Pacing, pacing is the only thing I can do to keep myself from going crazy but even with pacing my mind is racing. Bradley could've easily found out about us, except he's like every other teenager out there thinking vampires are make believe. Let me tell you, they're beyond real. We have a few werewolves in our town too. We have only a few, soon to be more. The old alpha's wife is pregnant with twins and she's been bedridden for a while. Baby werewolves are about the size of two year olds while in their mothers womb, and they don't find become a full werewolf until fifteen to sixteen years of age.
"Why the hell would you do that, Auro? If you didn't chuck the knapsack down the mountain this wouldn't have happened," Jeremiah scolds. I shrug and dart out the door, needing some time to myself.
I run back to the top of the mountain, nobody's around. I sit crisscross on the edge of the cliff and watch as the full moon comes up. The distant howling leads me to believe the werewolves are awake. They're not exactly classified as werewolves though, they're shape shifters. They can turn into a werewolf whenever they want.
I take a deep breath of cold air and the first snowfall comes down around me. Holding out my hand, beautiful crystalized water drops land in the palm. I stare at the moon and the bright white sphere seems to dance in the sky with the stars. If only life could be as easy as being the moon, you just be beautiful from birth to your future death. You do what you enjoy, watching everything in the universe form where you forever stand. If only life was that easy... Who am I kidding, life isn't easy anyway for me. A god damn vampire is a blood sucking demon...
* * *
The next day was sun-filled, and luckily we can't go into the sun, I want to hide away from Bradley if I can. I go out into the open anyway, where it's bright and don't need to hide in the woods. I sparkle, I know you may thinking; "sparkle? Sparkling is gay!" But just like Stephanie Myers book, Twilight, we sparkle. I hate it.
I sit on the porch for hours, drawing my surroundings. A woodpecker working at the bark of a tree, the apple tree that is now covered in frost-bitten apples, the leaves covered in snow. The faint semi-circular moon in the west of the sky. I work until I run out of inspiration.
I wont have to hunt for another week to two, I have a lot of spare time on my hands. I've already mastered all of the finest pianist compositions, listened to every CD I own ten times, done all the homework assigned for next week. I've completed the test for calculus because I've done the test multiple times already and can get into the instructors head easily. There is nothing to do.
I begin playing with the elements. I twirl fire on my hands, but they don't burn me. I roll both balls into one and throw it with half my power at a nearby rotting tree. Across the lake. I watch as the precision is spot on and watch the tree burn to ashes. I make the lake dance in the air, twisting into a whirlpool, giant waves, and finally letting it rest. The ice of my skin can be transferred as well. I ball my fists together and then blow a gust of breath on them, towards the lake, freezing it instantly. I freeze it so the ice is thick enough to skate on. Eventually I get bored and go inside to watch the NHL game, Boston vs. Calgary.
Tomorrow should be better, forecast calls for rain and fog, overcast weather. I'll be able to come out of hiding, thank god. I feel trapped when I have to stay home.