Young Writers Society

i wrote this story for an english assignment and my teacher loved it. so far everyone who's read it has loved it. i hope you all feel the same.



Locking the door, I dropped my bag by it, and deposited my keys in the tray on the end table in the corner right beside the door. My shoulders ached from carting around my backpack all day, my hands stiff from holding my phone to my ear for so long. I was on the phone with my boyfriend Brock, and my best friend Amber, or rather they were arguing and I was trying to stop. Instead, I just hung up. They’d call back, once they stopped bickering.
I was completely exhausted and headed upstairs to my room, stopping to look at the pictures as I sluggishly treaded up the lush maroon that covered them. I had half a mind to sleep on the stairs, but decided my bed was the best thing for me. Looking at the pictures of family and friends made me nostalgic.
Closing the door to my room, I locked it, and walked over to my dresser to look at myself. I had raven black hair that went well below my waist. My eyes were moonlight silver with splashes of violet in them that could make a person stop and stare, like a deer caught in head lights. At least, that’s what people say. I was taller than average, 5’9 to be exact, and I had a strong capable body, long strong limbs corded with just enough muscle to look attractive. My skin went unblemished and lightly tanned. People say like sun kissed honey. My name is Luna Wenchester, and I’m seventeen years old, and I live with my dad. We’re not very close anymore. Maybe when I was a child, but things changed.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Was the sound of my phone going off, but by then, I was already drifting into a sweet blissful darkness.
Boom! Was the sound of thunder rumbling as someone slammed the front door closed, jolting me awake so violently, I almost fell out of bed. Dad’s truck was in the driveway when I got home, so he must’ve gone out while I was sleeping. I listened as he stomped up the stairs, and stopped in front at my door. The handle jiggled as he tried to open it. I watched as his shadow slowly receded from the door and down the hallway.
Ring! Ring! Ring! My phone went off. This time, I decided to answer it.
“Hello Amber.” I said, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Dude,” Amber sounded pissed. “Did you really hang up on us?!” she paused. “Well, I can understand you hanging up on that fag bag of a boyfriend-”
“Yo man, watch what you say about my boyfriend.” I glared though the phone at her.
“I. Don’t. Care.” Amber said. “That punk boyfriend of yours called me a ghetto hussy!!!”
“Hey,” I laughed and sat up. “you and Brock are the ones always bickering over nothing.”
“He’s still a punk.” she grumbled.
“You know he loves screwing with you, and yet you let him get under your skin.” Glancing over at the alarm clock, I realized it was 6:30, and got up to look out of my window.
I pushed back the curtains and looked toward the sky. Thick black clouds swirled over head like a deadly miasma, in the heavens thunder boomed, red hot and ready to go, lightening zipped through the sky setting everything alight.
I closed the curtain and headed down to the kitchen in search of food. I was starving. My phone beeped alerting me that I had another call coming in.
“Oh,” It was Brock. “hang on Amber, Brock’s calling, let me put the call on three way.”
“Noooo!!!” Amber moaned in desperation, but it was too late.
“Hello, my little Amazonian warrior.” A velvety smooth voice murmured, setting my cheeks aflame.
“Ugh,” Amber wretched. “no sweet talking my best friend with that gag-me-smooth voice while I’m on the phone, you prick.”
“Well, how bout’ you get off the phone then?” Brock suggested. He must’ve known Amber was about to speak because then he said, “Or how about I do gag you, but throw you into a river? Yea, I think I like that plan better.”
“How about you both calm down,” I interjected. “and Brock, you apologize to her.” I padded down stairs to make sure the front door was locked.
“What?!” Brock sounded appalled.
“You heard me,” I replied, and then said slowly, “Apologize.”
“Yea, apologize.” Amber said smugly.
“There’s no way no way I’m givin’ your triflin’ ghetto hussy lookin’ self anything!!” Brock scoffed.
“The hell you aren’t, you turkey baster!!” Amber yelled.
I could listen to these to all day. It was like hearing an old married couple fighting over who gets the last tapioca pudding cup. They always made me laugh.
“Guys,” I didn’t try to hide the fact that I was laughing at them. “Stop fighting like two grumpy old people and-”
I grunted as I hit something very hard and solid. My dad. Crap. Before I could move out of his way, he shoved me into the wall so hard to drop my cell phone. His eyes thundered with rage, but his face was the definition of calm. I struggled not to squirm.
“I would advise to watch your step,” he said calmly.
I live here too,” I responded calmly. “I have every right to walk where I want.”
I could hear Amber and Brock yelling my name repeatedly. But dad wasn’t’ having that. He grabbed me by my arm and threw me back against the wall.
“Listen you ungrateful bit-”
“Wow,” I teased. “such a colorful vocabulary you have. “wouldn’t want it to get you in trouble.”
I could still hear Brock and Amber.
“You should really mind your manners, father.”
Wrong thing to say. He grabbed me by my jacket, pulled me right up against him, and threw me back into the wall so forcefully my teeth rattled. I winced as pain radiated every which way through me.
“I’m giving you one chance and one chance only to apologize” he said. “What’s it gonna be?”
“What’s wrong, Victor?” I mocked. “Did one of those little girls you like turn down your offer for a play date?”
Really wrong thing to say. I grunted as his knee connected with my stomach, sending me tumbling down to floor beside my phone, and the hand that met my face was anything but pleasant. Amber and Brock were still yelling my name. They were in a panic. Sitting up, I put the phone back to my ear and said breathlessly, “Let me call you back” and hung up the phone, ignoring their protests.I pulled myself up against the wall, clutching my aching side, and looked at father, who was watching me. He shrugged of his jacket and said, “Get off the floor.”
Sitting there, I took a good look at the man who was my father. His face could’ve been made out of the hardest substance known to mankind as far as anybody could tell, his glacial blue eyes made of granite. His stubbornly square jaw emphasized his sharp cheekbones. Those broad shoulders could block out the sun. Big strong hands that could easily wrap around my neck or cord ripped arms that could easily squeeze the life out of my body, my very soul. I could see the storm raging, thundering, getting worse. Since I didn’t what he told me, he grabbed me by my neck, and hauled me up. Try as hard as I may, but to no avail, I couldn’t break his grip. I was engulfed in rage as my heart bet ferociously in my chest.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” his voice was soft. Never a good sign, especially when it came to me. The hand around my neck tightened. He lifted me at least three feet off the ground, letting my feet dangle.
“You belong to me.” his hands tightened long enough for me to almost lose consciousness, and then loosened.
“I belong to no one,” was my respond through clenched teeth.
Then I kicked him right in the go-nads and his grip loosened on my neck, providing me with just enough room to drop to the floor. I bolted like lightening for the front door. Just not fast enough, I guess.
He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back to him.
“You’re just not getting it.” he tsked in my ear.
He threw me down on the floor and kicked me over and over again until I saw seeing stars.
“You’re my property.” He knelt down beside me and I struck out, catching him right in the jaw.
I didn’t stop there. Instead, I kicked him in the gut with both feet, and scrambled back. That didn’t seem like much to him. He grabbed my ankle and dragged me back. I couldn’t break his grip, no matter how hard I tried.
Just then, I heard banging on the front door and two familiar voices yelling, “Luna!!”
Brock and Amber. I tried kicking Victor in the face, but he just dodged my foot and used it to yank me the final inched under him, and climbing on top of me. Brock and Amber were still beating on the door, yelling my name. They weren’t getting in. there was a dead bolt on every door on the first level of the house. I was on my own. Before I could get a word out, a hard slap across the face stopped me dead in my tracks.
“I own you.”
He shoved my legs apart with his and penned my wrists above my head. Since I was fading in and out of consciousness, I didn’t hear what he said, or feel his finger trailing down my stomach and hooking into my jeans. That’s when I heard what sounded like the door busting open. The last thing I saw was Brock barreling in with Amber right behind him, and what looked like fangs and amber glowing eyes. Amber looked like she had claws instead of fingernails

Amber and I busted in just in time to find that prick on top of Luna, trying to undo her pants. I lost it with an infuriated roar and charged straight for him. His startled gaze turned to completely frightened as it landed on me.
“You twisted bastard!” I snarled before throwing him across the room.
“Brock!” Amber yelled. She was leaning over Luna. “We need to get her out of here!”
Then she started to come to. She rolled onto her side with a groan and spat up blood. Heat coiled through me and my vision was tinged with red as I turned back toward where Victor was.
“Brock!” Amber snapped.
“Quiet your hissing werewolf!” I snapped back.
Every fiber of my being was yelling at me to kill Victor, but Amber was right. I walked over to where Amber was leaning over Luna. Her head was in Amber’s lap, and she looked so pale. Amber pushed a lock of hair out of Luna’s face as I lifted her into my arms and headed for the car
Amber’s face looked stricken with some undecipherable emotion as she opened the back door. I slid into the back seat as gently as I could without hurting her. Luna’s arms wrapped around my neck as she snuggled closer. The gesture made my heart warm like butter in a micro wave. I buried my face in her neck and breathed deeply. She smelled of honey doo dipped in strawberry jam, with a hint of cinnamon. Her scent calmed my nerves, quieted my rage, and soothed the beast in me.
“My dad should be home today,” I said as Amber got into the front seat. “he’s off for the weekend.”
Without another word, Amber started the car and head to my house.

I’d just walked into the kitchen when Axel appeared. He had this pensive look on his face as he gazed down at Luna.
“Get her upstairs” he said. “I’ll be along shortly.” Then he was gone.
I carried her upstairs and into my bedroom, where I laid her down on my bed. Amber climbed on the bed towards Luna and pulled her head gently into her lap. She looked so sad it almost broke my heart. Her hazel eyes with chocolate brown flecks glossed over with tears as they steadily flowed down her round alabaster cheeks.
“I’m so sorry” she whispered brokenly, and pushed a lock of hair out of Luna’s face.
She squeezed Luna’s hand before wiping her eyes. Luna stirred and squeezed back.
“It’s not your fault, Amber” Luna squeezed her hand again.
Amber curled up beside Luna as she brushed a lock of hair out of Amber’s face, then she passed out again. Axel walked in a moment later and looked at Amber.
“I have to wrap Luna up, and I can’t do that with you attached to her side like a Siamese twin” his voice was gentle, but in his eyes, a startling darkness filled them.
Amber disengaged from Luna and moved over to make room for Axel on the bed. He settled beside Luna and began unsnapping the buttons of her shirt to reveal these angry blue and black bruises that were starting to show themselves. My blood sizzled with hatred for Victor. One way or another, he would pay.

I shot up in bed with a start, clutching my pain wracked ribs. I couldn’t breathe. My chest constricted in pain. Then warm strong arms encased me, and my back met solid heat. The pain in my chest eased, as did the pain in my side, and everything was ok. My breathing calmed and my body relaxed.
“Shh,” Brock said soothingly and kissed the top of my head. “it’s ok now Luna, you’re safe.”
“Why did you lie to me?” was the first thing out of my mouth.
“About?” he asked like he didn’t know.
“You know what about.” I replied.
“Oh, you mean the part about having fangs?” he shrugged nonchalantly, though it was anything but.
His grip tightened on me, like he was afraid I was about to bolt out of the bed.
“Forgot.”
“Why are you lying to me?” the frustration in my voice was evident. Brock just chose to ignore it.
“What do you want me to say?” his entire body was stiff, like he was waiting for something bad to happen.
“I thought you trusted me, Brock.” now the hurt was evident in my voice, but this time, Brock didn’t ignore it.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he shrugged again. I knew he was anxious. It was radiating off of him in waves. “which is something to remember when talking to your werewolf gal pal.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about telling me now, and neither does Amber.”
We were silent for what seemed like forever, when Brock finally spoke.
“So, you’re ok with this?” he turned me around to look at him, surprise the dominant emotion in his eyes.
“Really?” he sounded hopeful, but cautious.
"Brock,” I laughed. “I love you for you. You make me feel safe and loved. What you are changes nothing about how I feel towards you. Same goes for Amber. It doesn’t matter to me.”
He sighed in relief and touched his forehead to mine, feverently saying, “Thank you,” and kissing me over and over again.
I returned his kisses over and over again, saying, “You’re welcome.”