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a series of short one shots from different points in Embry's life.

I tried to create a background for one of the least talked about Pack members except for maybe Paul.

1. One shots upto new moon

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1489   Review this Chapter

Run, Run, Run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the ginger bread man.

The song was stuck in my head and I sang it under my breath as I sat on the cold wooden floor of my bedroom. It was my 4th birthday. My mother had given me a match box car set. I had scampered her to my room to create the world’s most exciting race course. I pushed the cars over the uneven boards and under my bed and out the other side. Each car zoomed around the dust laden legs of my dresser and past the looming clutter of my closet.

I pushed the cars, watching them struggle across the uneven surface before ricocheting off the walls. The yellow car went first, fitting the molding and bouncing backwards to a halt. The blue one with the fancy numbers on the side didn’t even make it half way before it flipped over onto its back. The red car, which was my favorite, drove the smoothest and reached the wall with the most speed. The normal soft tap didn’t erupt when it hit the wall though; instead a dull crack resonated throughout the room. I scrambled to where my new car lay only to find the front left wheel disconnected.

I held the disabled car in my hand, wishing that I could fix it. I looked carefully at it from all direction, squinting at the tiny metal toy. I meticulously fiddled with the wheel before it slid back into place. The damage was repaired, and I now had a new obsession for life.

I rushed into the house, covered from head to foot in mud. Our yard had little grass, so when it rained it becomes one large mud puddle. I had taken out my Tonka trucks and laid criss-crossing patterns of wheel tracks across the solid mud. The truth be told, I had allowed my imagination to create a construction zone out of that small yard of mud. I had lurched through the mud on my hands and knees playing all afternoon. When the layers of mud had already caked onto my skin making me look more like a muck monster then boy, I had decided it was time to go inside.

I left my soiled snickers by the door, careful not to drop mud onto everything. My mother was sitting at the table pieces of stationary laid out across the wooden surface. I leaned on the edge of the worn table looking at what she had been doing. She holded a single piece of white paper and slid it into the waiting envelope. She took my class picture and slipped it into the accompanying letter.

“Who are you sending this to, Mama?” I asked, wondering who could warrant my photograph.

“To your father.” She said. She let her tongue slide over the edge of the envelope sealing it, and wrote in her own bold simple hand writing a PO Box address for a town in Washington.

She put the letter down on the table and pulled me into a big hug. She didn’t release how messy I was until she pulled back and her own shirt was skimmed with the dusty remnants of my play time.

“Why don’t you go take a bath while I fix dinner?” My mother said, her voice soft.

I nodded my head feverishly, racing into the cramped bathroom and an attempt at being clean.

I sat in the car, watching as the only home I knew slowly vanished into the background of the past. I sighed, as my mother drove our aging station wagon towards our new life. She had bought a new house, it was slightly bigger and near a beach. She said that it was on a reserve called La Push, by Forks, Washington. The name of the town sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it.

I spent the hour or so drive completely within my own little dream world. I was wondering what our new house would look like. My mother listened to the radio as I allowed myself to watch the trees grow closer together, and the green moss start covering everything in view.

My eyes had grown heavy and I nodded off during the ride. I awoke to the engine being turned off on our car. We sat in front of a small wooden house with a porch. A sold sign hung in the front yard. I got out of the car and began to help my mom carry our few meager boxes of possessions into the house. The truck with our furniture pulled onto the street and my mother began to direct the men as to where everything went.

I wandered down our yard and sat on the curb. Two boys were walking down the street together. They looked to be about my age also. I stood up and waved to them.

“Hi.” I said. “I’m Embry. I just moved in here.”

The taller of the two boys spoke first. “Hi, I’m Jake and this is Quill.”

I sat utterly bored in Geometry. My head was leaning on my arm and the teacher’s voice had long ago stopped sounding like actual words. I ripped a sheet of paper out of my notebook and quickly scribbled a note across it. I crumpled it into a ball in my fist and waited for the balding middle age teacher to turn back to the board. When he finally did so to write down yet another excruciating problem, I tossed the message to Jake who was sitting a bit away from me.

He easily grabbed the paper out of the air and read it. He turned back to me and shook his head smiling. We would have to grab Quill after school before we headed to Jake’s house. I had been looking for a carburetor to replace the one in my dirt bike and had come across a fuel injection gauge for the truck was working on. I knew that as soon as the bell rang in 15 minutes, our books would soon be forgotten and it would be just the three of us friends in Jake’s garage lounging around.

I counted down the seconds, ignoring the poor girl next to me’s attempts to flirt with Jared. Three seconds, two seconds, one second, and the blast of the bell echoed through the halls. I stood up grabbing my books and headed to Jake’s desk.

“Come on. We’ve got to go find Quill before he wonders off and actually becomes productive!”

There was something about the pain and excitement that one felt while running. The awesome power and freedom that accompanied the release of all my emotions drove me onward for an immeasurable amount of time. I felt joy and happiness for the first time since I discovered what I was, but even this happiness leaves regrets that even I can’t hide.

For every little moment that my heart escapes my body and wallows in the absolute excitement of my joy, that little voice in the back of my heads tells me that I’m not really normal or human. That little voice nags me until I begin to regret the actions I am taking, ruining the moment beyond any and all hopes of repair.

I regret being a wolf, only because I see the pain I inflicted on Jake and Quill by not telling them what I am and why I now avoid them.

I regret it because this means that my father wasn’t just some one night stand, it means my father was one of my friend’s dads, a married man.

I try to hide the pain and regret I feel. I hide it within me hoping that no one will see the pity that I reveal in. But somewhere in the deep orbs of my eyes, a glint will tip them off, and within there the truth will lie. It is hidden, yes, it will not be seen by any except for those who take the time to gaze into my unyielding stare and extract the true nature of my faults. For them, it’s plainly seen. Emily has proven this time and time again by reading the hidden pain in my eyes. Sam doesn’t understand nor Jared and Paul. They have each other don’t miss the outside as much.

I don’t have either my best friends, I left them behind the moment that I changed. Emily understands only slightly better. For her to be with Sam, she had to ruin her friendship with Leah, they were still friends but not the same as they used to be. I didn’t think that I or the other guys could be what we used to be either, unless they all turned into giant dogs, which I hoped that they wouldn’t.