Chapter One: History

The wind was icy cold and was blowing my hair in a thousand directions. But I didn't care. I was here to learn my past and what was happening to me, and I wasn't leaving anytime soon.

I had knocked on the Black's door twenty minutes ago, but no one had answered. So I just stayed out here, waiting. Their car was in the driveway, so they were home. But I guess they just didn't want to see me.

I couldn't blame them; no one liked me. I was… weird. In my old home in Texas, I had been teased and beat up almost every day until I was fourteen. That's when I grew to six feet. A good five inches over everyone else. The height scared the kids enough to stop beating on me, but I still got teased for my home life.

My dad was gay. But he still lived with us. My mom was a drug addict and an alcoholic ever since my dad had told her. That was when I was five. I was fifteen now. Ten years she had been addicted. Ten years I had been hated by her, but loved by my father.

Now, though, I was running away from all that. I wanted to know my past. My mother's brother was the only person who could help me now. His name, I had found in some old letters, was Billy Black.

That was how I had ended up here, on this wintry day, on a Native American reservation, freezing my butt off. I wasn't going to leave, so I knocked again.

The door opened a few inches, held in place by a chain lock.

"Who are you?" a voice asked. The voice, a boy's, sounded about my age.

"Is this the Black's residence?" my father had taught me to be polite, but I wasn't giving my name to a stranger. Names are power.

"Maybe, it depends on who you are," this boy was very hostile.

"Well, if this is the Black's residence, I am the son of Ashley Black, now Ashley Walker. May I ask who this is?"

"I am the son of Billy Black. What is your name?" This was getting old. I decided to cut the bogus stuff and get to the point.

"I'm Ashton Walker. If you are the son of Billy Black, then your name is Jacob and you are my cousin. Can I come in?"

The person on the other side was silent for a moment. Then the door closed and I heard him running away.

"Hey! Get back here! I need to talk to your dad! It's about my mom and what's happening to me! Help!" I banged on the door with my now frozen hands. Even a hotter than normal blood temperature was no match for zero degree weather.

The door opened, fully, again a few minutes later. This time an old man, in a wheelchair, was there. "Hello, Ashton. I am Billy, your uncle. Come in out of the cold. I am so sorry for my son's attitude. He's been so upset lately. Unrequited love, if you know what I mean," he whispered this last part and winked.

"Dad!" a voice came from upstairs. Jacob, I assumed.

"Hi, Billy. I'm Ashton, as I guess you already know. I, um, have a few things to ask you about my mother… and, if we have time, I mean, I wanted to ask if you knew anything about… um, werewolves…"

Billy just stared at me. Great, even my uncle thought I was crazy. Way to make an impression Ash. Now he's gonna kick me out.

"Here, come in to the living room. This may take a while to explain…" Billy led me to a room off of the entryway and sat me down on an old couch. "What would you like to know first?"

"The history of my people, it's what my mother, when she was sober, would never explain to me."

"Of course, you should learn your past before you set out for the future. Well, it all began many years ago…"

I listened to Billy explain to me my history for the rest of the afternoon…

Hey, do you like it? I thought I should do a new story about werewolves; they're so much easier to write about than vampires! This story could go a lot of ways, so give me any ideas you have!

Ok, please review!