She was running towards the woods, with a boy's hand in hers, and they were scared of what they were running from. She couldn't look back, only ahead, but she sensed that the boy was more scared than she was. Though what they were running from was unknown, she knew it was bad and it was gonna kill both of them if they stopped even for a second. Darkness was falling, and with every step they took, she got more scared. With every degree of light that faded, he grew frightened almost to the point of madness.
Was that a voice ahead, urging them on? Or was it behind them, threatening its revenge? She didn't know, and neither did the boy with her. She only knew that because the hand in hers was masculine. She feels the rain falling hard and fast on her already soaked skin, feels the terror when he lets go of her hand and starts to transform into a werewolf, but she's scared for him, not for herself, because…then the wolf takes over the boy's mind, and lunges at her…
Jadira suddenly wakes in a cold, fearful, sweaty state with her blanket twisted around her. She checks the digital clock on her very old six-drawer dresser, and it reads 4:15 AM. The alarm light is on, and she leaves it on as she looks around her room. The light from outside the bottom-level apartment almost makes it like sunlight is seeping through. But the pitter-patter of the rain, plus her clock tells her that a storm is just outside at 4 AM on a Wednesday morning. Her breathing was ragged, like she'd been running or playing tennis for too long. She slows it down slowly, like she'd been taught, till it becomes normal.
Closing her eyes only brings back the nightmare she's had since the summer started. And it's the morning of August 28, 2013 (aka the first day of her tenth grade year). She sits up, looks around the clean room. Clean, save the floor needs vacuuming, two of her drawers need to be organized and so do the two bookshelves. And the fact that her makeshift bed is on the floor; her real bed, a futon, held her outfit for today, her new journal, her brand-new non-bleeding colored pen set and a bunch of empty reusable bags.
So, after changing into fresh underwear and night shirt, Jadira debates on whether to clean the rest of her room or to write in the journal she'd gotten for her birthday party in July from a girlfriend. She chooses the latter and opens the blue floral design cover to the first page. She decides to write about who she is.
My name is Jadira Montgomery; I'm 15 years old and will be going into tenth grade today. I go to Clarksburg High School in Clarksburg, MD and though I have many friends at school, I'm not very popular. Not that I care about being popular! I really don't care anything worth a crud about being popular! All the 'popular' kids at CHS are such rude people! And it doesn't matter what grade they're in (9th, 10th, 11th or 12th) they are so rude to every student who isn't in their 'friend' group!
I don't like those kinds of people, snakes, spiders, rated-R movies or movies and books with bloody or gory scenes or summaries, getting pimples or zits on my nose, the colors pink, purple, orange or yellow, and I definitely don't like any boy in my grade!
I like cats, dogs, fish, hermit crabs, romance books (but not romance movies!), sci-fi books, manga, anime, crocheting, knitting, collecting rocks, playing video games like The Legend of Zelda and Pokémon and I really love to read!
I am quite the weirdo in school; I have blue-as-a-hurricane's-eye-center eyes, brown-as-mud hair, I usually just put an outfit together of what clothing I have that's clean and I crochet in class! But usually after I've done all the work or I get the warm-up done faster than everyone else. My skin is tan from this summer of going to three different beaches, though I toned down a little after working at my church's fair booth for SSL. I got three hermit crabs at the last beach we went to before the County Fair started and all three are still alive! I am 5'3 and very outspoken when it comes to bullies, recycling and getting the word out about the Crafty Coyotes.
I believe that if we take care of our planet, everything in Mother Nature's realm will set itself back to normal; even the Ozone layer will grow back! But no boy at school, even those in my grade, will even look at me! Once, a guy friend tried to ask me out, but he got pounded badly by some eleventh grader, for something else I hope, and never came back to our school. He was transferred to North West, and that was a big blow to Clarksburg's track team, because he was one of our best. I very much doubt I'll ever meet a guy who'd love me for who I am; not what I look like, how I act or what my popularity status is. But one can always hope.
The buzzer of her alarm goes off just as she finishes writing the last word; she puts the journal back on her futon and goes into the bathroom to take a quick shower before she has to catch the bus and go to school as she rubs her eyes free of sleep.