I don't own them - very short I know


Sometimes people tended to look over them. They took in the tough exterior and made assumptions as to what that individual was like. That they wouldn't care or that they were most likely planning to cause trouble. Possible cause damage to property or others.

Their response to this; hide the pain they were feeling. To act out against others. To fall to the wrong crowd. To be easily manipulated with kind words. Something that made them feel like someone important. Not someone who was a threat. That others wouldn't go near.

They chose clothes they knew made them look tough and cool. Some new leather bound outfits made them look like 80's gangsters from those American movies yet still had the adverse affect. A warning that said, don't come near me or it'll be the last thing you'll do.

People would now look over what they really were inside. They never saw the sweet timid boy who just wanted someone to care for him or the lonely poor soul begging for friendship or the little humiliated girl searching for compassion. They only saw the façade that someone else helped them to create; this someone saying it would help.

And it did. For a while anyway. That is until they started to be faced with real danger by things called Kanima's or Alpha Packs. Things that honestly just seemed flipping terrifying. Things that they needed help with but their new persona's didn't help others to trust them. Didn't help others to want to help them; assuming they had an alternative motive.

Without these looks they were just three typical teens.

Three very lost teens.