Disclaimer: All characters, plotlines, etc. belong to Stephanie Meyer.

Author's Note: It's been a long time since I have written a piece of fanfiction, but this popped into my head and demanded to be written. I hope it's not too bad. Please review!

Leah Clearwater One Shot:

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I hate what I am.

And what I am is a werewolf.

And, do you want to know what werewolves in general have cost me?

First of all, they stole my Sam.

Sam was mine and I was his. And then they just… stole him away from me. Just like that.

One minute he was there, sitting on the couch with me watching a movie, tantalizing me with secret kisses to my cheek every time my parent's watchful eyes wandered in the opposite direction. He left my house that night, both of us feeling so happy and lucky because we belonged to each other.

That was the first and last time Sam ever told me he loved me.

He had started to drive away, before swerving into a quick U-turn and pulling back up my drive. He jumped out of the car, ran over to me, grabbed my face and gave me a long sensuous kiss before whispering, "I love you, Leah."

And then he left and never came back.

Sure, two weeks later he showed up at school and acted like he had never left at all. But, he was never my Sam again. He was jumpy, he skipped school all the time, and he never smiled anymore.

Second of all, they stole my best friend.

My mom knew how miserable I was about Sam's sudden behavior change. To get me out of my funk she asked Emily to come up for a visit. Emily was more than just my second cousin, she was my best friend. She was the first person I called when things were going so well I couldn't stop smiling, and she was the only one who get me to smile when things were going badly.

And what happens? Emily is in La Push no more than fifteen minutes when Sam finally bothers to stop by and see me, feeling guilty for the way he'd been treating me, and imprints on her.

Of course, I didn't know it then. But I caught the gist of what happened – Sam and Emily fell in love at first sight. Emily pleaded with me to forgive her, and I did. It wasn't necessarily her fault. She was kidnapped.

Sam wasn't mine anymore, but as much as I hate to admit it, I was still his.

Then, they stole my brother.

He transformed into a werewolf, just like Sam and some of the other reservation boys, and that became the greatest priority in his life. Everytime he talked, it revolved around the pack and traditions, and the myths, and how feaking cool it all was. He was so proud of being what I hated. It was a great big adventure for him. He's so young and immature, he doesn't see them the way I do.

And he wasn't Seth anymore, he was a werewolf. And worse of all, he knew that, and it didn't bother him at all.

And then they stole me.

The day I first felt the ripping sensation in my body, and saw the way my figure metamorphosized into the terrible creature I was, it was as if I was being ripped from my body. I finally put a face to what I hated these past months. It was my face. The face of a wolf.

That face had cost me Sam, Emily, and Seth. I hated that face. I hated myself.

The greatest loss came after my descension into hell.

Then I loss of my father.

When he looked at the faces of what used to be his children, his heart ripped from his chest the way my body had ripped from my self...

But he couldn't be trained to transform back.

And neither can I.

God, I hate what I am.