The Last Sheba

Avery's POV

I sat by a corner in my room squeezing my stomach in pain and watching myself bleed. My throat felt dry, my eyes felt like they were burning and my chest ached. My vision was blurred like it always was every time I got beaten by my dad. I couldn't help but wonder the worst thing that could happen if I killed the man.

I spat out the blood in my mouth, feeling irritated by the feeling of dried blood on my skin. Letting out a low sigh as soon as my mouth was free. I remained in a position, watching most of my injuries heal in seconds, smiling to myself. I took pride in my speedy healing.

I attempted moving, groaning at the sound of my cracking bones. "He didn't hold back today,", I groaned to myself, using the desk next to me as support to stand up. "What an ass.", I whispered, biting my lower lip in annoyance and waiting impatiently for myself to fully heal.

This was a daily routine. My 'dad' loved beating me up every morning. My pain was pleasure to him. I never did anything wrong to him. He just started beating me up all of a sudden after my mom died. I try not to think too deep about his reasons, I always end up stranded when I do.

I guess I'm getting used to the pain... That's a good thing... Right?

I rushed to the bathroom, taking off my clothes and dumping them in the laundry bag then hopping into the shower when I was sure my body was ready.

I couldn't hold back the moan in my throat when I felt warm water slide through my back. I always found baths divine.

I didn't take long in the shower today. I'm already late.

I dressed up, grabbing all I needed for school. I chuckled to myself, thinking about the difference between my life in school and at home. At school, Avery's the bad ass bully. A bitch that doesn't give a fuck about anything. Popular shit with a Beta's son for a best friend, my life's perfect over there. But at home, Avery's the wimp that can do nothing but watch her dad hit her. She can't even gather enough courage to tell him to stop. All I do is cry in private about how much I miss my mom. I'm pathetic... Still a baby with a shallow mind.

You can say it's cause of my shallow mind that I'm such a bully.

The only reason I bully is because it's almost satisfying. I make it my duty to depress people just because I'm broken; because I feel they have too much and I have too little. Its so unfair. There's never a second I don't feel deprived.

They haven't gone through what I go through and they never will but I'll have to carry this shitty burden I call a dad till he dies and he doesn't look like he's planning on dying anytime soon.

I feel that bullying is the only way of making things fair on me.

I see everybody else as better than me and I low key respect them but my jealousy will never let me show it. Never ever. So petty. I disgust myself but what the hell? You learn to live with it.

Life has always been unfair to me, taking someone I loved so much and suddenly turning my dad into a monster. Thinking about it hurt more than any beating I've gotten from my dad.

"Maybe things would've been better if dad died instead of you." I whispered, glancing at a picture of mom that laid on the desk next to the door. Seeing her picture always reminded me of life before her death. That's a life I should forget. Remembering the paradise you had while drowning in mystery is an indescribable pain but then I can't bring myself to hide that picture or control the urge to look at it. I loved my mom so much.

My dad treats me like his punching bag

He's crazy. He beats me everyday for no reason at all. 'For the fun of it' he says. He's so heartless, he beats me mercilessly, leaving me with my blood messing the floor and of course I always clean it up but I've got no scar.

I heal within seconds and no one's explained why. Of course I'm a werewolf. It's meant to be normal healing, but not when it's this fast.

I keep my questions to myself most times. I can't let people know about how unfortunate I am. Last thing I want is pity. If I have questions or I can't keep my thoughts to myself, I find myself running to Mr. Arthur and Dylan. My best friend and his dad. My second family. They mean the world to me. I can't even imagine life without them. I'd have probably committed suicide or something.

Dylan.... He can be a hand full but that's not a reason not to love him.

After making sure I had everywhere cleaned up, I rushed out, heading to Dylan's house

I didn't bother trying to look fashionable today so I threw on a big grey shirt and blue jeans with matching snickers. It didn't look bad on me though.

The journey to Dylan's house wasn't too long, but it was exhausting. I was still tired after today's beating. I stood by the his house's door, sighing a bit before knocking, hoping I didn't leave any open hints that I was stressed. The door opened immediately like it was waiting for a knock. Mr. Arthur stood behind it, grinning as soon as he saw me. I forced a smile, hoping he wouldn't ask about my morning; wasn't surprised when he pulled me in for a hug. That's our way of greeting. It has its way of calming me down

Mr. Arthur takes me as his daughter

And I take him as my dad. He's done so much for me and never asked for anything. He's so nice, it's creepy. He even pays me visits most times, though he is usually busy with his beta work.

That was years ago when we were still kids.

I still don't know why he's so connected to me.

At the beginning of everything Dylan hated me because he thought I was stealing his dad and I hated him because I felt he was too self centered

"How are you?" Mr. Arthur asked, slowly breaking the hug.

"I'm good. Thanks for asking" I thanked him. "Where's Dylan?" I peeped into the house, impatiently. I needed to head to school and he's the one driving.

"He's in his room. He just finished exercising. He's not ready for school. I could drop you off if you'd like." he suggested, moving aside with a small smile on his face, inviting me to come in.

I sighed, hearing his reply. It was stupid of me to expect my idiot best friend to be ready on time for once "No... No need. I don't mind waiting for him." I said, walking in and heading straight for the dining where my food sat. I always get excited eating at Dylan's. Mr. Arthur's cooking is the best.

I always eat here. Mr. Arthur insists on it. He'd make me live here if he could but my dad would never allow. There's a limit to what he can do.

I can't sleepover cause my dad is against it but I honestly appreciate Mr. Arthur's efforts.

I wish he was my father but then again I'm glad he's not cause...well

I don't want Dylan as a brother. The thought makes me cringe.

I ate, dancing on my seat, loving the food. I didn't even know Mr. Arthur was starring till I accidentally glanced at him. The look on his face almost made me choke. "What's wrong?" I asked, dropping the spoon and giving him my attention. He looked bothered.

"What do you feel for my son?" he asked, no hesitating at all.

I licked my inner gum, looking away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I looked back at my empty plate, swinging my feet and playing with my fork "Friendship?" my tone gave out the lie.