"It was back in the late 1800's, a massive war was fought for our town, but when it came down to writing this history in the books, no one ever got all the details of this horrible night completely. In the books, it was known as the fight at wolf-scar hill. In the books it was said that a pack of two hundred wolves stormed to our town, and one man had been able to slay them all, in just one night."

As I read my report I took the time to pause just a minute to look at all of their serious faces watching back at me.

"But we know truly what happened that night; we have heard the stories as it got passed down through or generations. Those wolves weren't running towards our town just out of randomness, no, they had spotted us out, and were coming to wipe out the whole town, children and all."

By now I could hear complete silence in the room, not even a sound could be detected.

"And that man, was not just a man, for we know it's not possible for a simply man back in that time to be able to take on a pack of two hundred wolves, he was much more. That night, as the pack raced down the hill of wolf-scar, that man stood his ground, and in the shine of the moon above him he transformed into one of the very beast that was running towards him."

I glanced to the teacher seeing her open her mouth to protest, but I looked back down at my paper, and quickly went on, not wanting to hear her opinion just yet.

"He was much more powerful then the other wolves, he had been trained, and had many skills that the other wolves didn't appear to have, and sadly like a true hero he had died trying to keep his home safe. He had no known family in this town, some say his parents had died in an accident many years ago, and he had wondered the streets for years after. Legend has it that after he had died a witch had placed a curse on his soul, and sealed it in a man who had been near by this terrible scene."

As I said this all the others began to look at each other, sharing thrilled looks, some seeming a bit scared.

"I have a question?" A girl from the front of the room named Amy asked raising her hand, looking pointedly up at me.

"Yes Amy?" I asked.

"What was the man's name?"

"No one ever found out, since they couldn't find a family history on him, and he had just died, they never found out who he was,"

Everyone else was quiet for a minute, until another hand rose, from the back.

I strained to not chuckle as I saw my brother waving his hand at him with an eager grin.

"What Darrell," I said trying not to roll my eyes.

"Does this mean that one of us can have this dude's soul in us?"

I couldn't help it now, I laughed shaking my head.

"Umm, well I suppose the spirit could get passed down through generations, but even if it did, spirits usually stay dormant, and just the thought of one of us all the way in the 2012 getting a spirit from the 1800's is not likely,"

A few others laughed quietly.

Mrs. Adams decided to interrupt now.

"But like Mason had said, this is just an urban legend, our ancestors were quite biased, and it was more likely it happened more closely to what is said in the history books.

I shook my head looking at her, and slowly made my way back to my seat.

None of the adults believed in this legend, and it was rather sad, but not our generation, everyone in this room believed, and took it seriously, even though the adults are always trying to tell us otherwise.

I smiled slightly as the room began to clap.

Mrs. Adams sighed, rubbing her face to move her bright red hair from her eyes.

"Who would like to read their report next?" She muttered sitting back at her desk, looking at each other us with her piercing brown eyes that could spot out an unwilling person with just one glance, and soon she pointed to a girl from behind me.

I felt a hard slap on my shoulder, and I turned throwing a slight glare at Darrell as he leaned over to snicker at me.

"Real good speech bro, I actually didn't fall asleep in this one,"

I rolled my eyes, glancing at him.

"Wow thanks, means a lot," I said sarcastically, throwing him a grin.

He snorted, and messed up my hair, nodding to the girl up front talking smoothly about Benjamin Franklin.

"I see your girlfriend is hitting it off up there as well,"

I glared, hiding the hotness that crept into my cheeks, and swatted at him.

"She isn't my girlfriend,"

"Oh but you wish she was don't you,"

"No I don't, Charity Smith, I don't think so,"

Darrell now rolled his eyes holding his hands up now going back to his seat.

"Mhmm, sure brother," He threw back to me before flopping down in his seat and hi-fiving the guys around him.

I turned back to the front, and pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head before directing my attention to Charity.

I listened closely, keeping each word she said in my head.

I would never understand how much I wanted to keep her voice swimming in my head forever.

Shaking my head slightly at the direction I let my thoughts go I relaxed back in my seat.

No reason I go love-sick puppy for this girl, it was very honestly not going to happen.

I'll just stick with my average everyday life as a normal guy, it's what I knew how to do best.