Quil Ateara/ Claire Young
Disclaimer: My name is not Stephanie and is not about to change anytime soon. Needless to say, the book nor movie do not belong to me.
What if Claire was taken away upon the news of imprinting? The magic between the werewolf and the imprintee went so much further than the surfaces…
Claire is classified as an insane lunatic since she turned 5. She is cold, detached, uncaring, and violent. Only released from the most dangerous section of mental ward when she was fifteen, Claire is, no doubt, not a normal person. It seems as though a piece of her soul was missing and she is always so cold…when can she possibly get better?
Chapter 1
…It's another day…Claire opens her eyes wearily with a tired expression that should not be seen on a girl as young as her and emitted a straining sigh…another day to endure in her miserable life.
Soft sunlight illuminates her bare and empty room as a gentle breeze rustle through her blankets from the opened window and lift her long bangs that nearly cover her eyes, revealing those dim black orbs that seems entirely too lifeless. She sigh yet again and rolled toward the window, enjoying the feel of small brief pleasures that she can manage to take from time to time.
It never lasts long.
Over the years, she have learned to take what she can. After all, the mere idea of happiness is a foreign concept to her for as long as she can remember.
Seemingly fascinated with the ray of sunlight that illustrate the erotic dance of dust in the air, Claire stares blankly, fixatedly at the spot. A sense of calm blanket and envelope her, effectively dulling her senses, and sent her to her world that stood apart from everyone else. It is peaceful, being apart. Claire enjoy the lack of emotion, the detachedness within her, at least than, she can escape the grip of pain and hollowness residing within her.
But someone just had to call her back to this cruel reality.
"Claire? Claire!? Claire!" her frantic mom burst into her room worriedly, "There you are! Thank goodness. Dear, why are you-"
"Get out." Claire stated calmly without twitching a muscle upon her dramatic mother's entrance. She didn't even bother to remove her glance from the entrancing light at the spot, remain unmoving in her position facing away from the door, she repeated herself, "Get out."
Her mother stares open-mouthed at her daughter's back, open and closing her mouth a few times in disbelief, she decided to try again, "Now, Dear, I'm sure-"
Claire didn't even let her finish that sentence before she abruptly sat up and twist her body to fix a freezing death glare on her mother's increasingly pale face, "I said get out!" Claire shouted furiously. The expression on her face must have been quite intimidating for whatever color in her mother's face rapidly fade on the receiving end of her hateful glare, bit her trembling lips hard and stormed somewhat-shakily away from the room.
Claire witness her departure with a sense of grim satisfaction. She should have been used to this already, she thought boredly, flinging herself back on the bed carelessly. After living with me for sixteen years, that woman can still remain ignorant of the things that tick me off. Amazing level of sensibility, really.
Of course, she thought with a sneer, unless they still cling to the illusion of me being a cheerful energetic child. She roll her eyes at the thought. It is common knowledge that they often try to counsel her by claiming that she has only fall into the rebellious stage all teenagers go through and has been a "normal" child before the age of five.
Claire swept her bangs away from her eyes before smirking devilishly, as if she can ever be normal. According to her oh-so-reliable parents, she have closed off herself from the world after turning five. Staring at blank places mumbling to herself, not eating nor moving, responding to no one and, apparently, reacts violently to any type of physical contacts. She stifled a humorless chuckle, it was said that they were forced to restrain her, when she is five, with four grown men and knock her out before they can remove her into the mental hospital because of her fierce resistance and relentless screaming objections of being touched.
Claire was one of the seemingly hopeless cases in the ward. It has took myriads of professional child experts' cooperation four years to even manage to draw her barest amount of attention from her own little world without her reacting violent or start screaming. And another four years to convince her to talk and not immediately resorting to violence when she is being touched. A damn nearly impossible task too, even to this day. Quite a number of grown men suffered broken bones from her in her childhood during their "coaxing". It is said that Claire has quite the strength and know by instinct where exactly to hit to disable her unfortunate opponents.
The young girl rub her face wearily, I suppose that its only reasonable that my parents would become eager to intervene and become involved in my affair as they were not able to in the earlier years as they have been able to on the behalf of my younger siblings, she thought rather reluctantly, quite reasonable, really, that they will try to restrain me now, she tried to told herself but knowing already that she don't care about their reasoning. Claire dislike everything that are forced upon her. No matter how justifying the reason maybe.
She got off the bed and sat down on the wooden floor with her long unkempt black hair flaring around her like a protection shield. Leaning back on her bed, Claire close her eyes half-way and wait for what is to come. It is like they are trying to rein her in, refusing to believe that she might be anything less than "normal". After all, she continued her train of thought with a sarcastic mocking grin, the doctors did say that she has gotten better and is "cured" now. What could possibly still be wrong with her?
Any hint or trace of a smile immediately vanished upon her once again stoic mask as she heard the start of faint footsteps on the stairs.
They are coming after all.
They either just don't understand or are simply refusing to acknowledge the fact that Claire Emily Young can be anything less than sane and normal now that she is cured. Either way, she is not appreciating it. They expected her to bend to their rules and expectations as her younger siblings have and be a happy normal teenager like any other. And after finding she is not, repeatly trying to pressure and mold her into their image of how Claire Young should be.
She is tired of putting up with all of their bullshit.
They were delicate around her during the first year she became responsive and was returned to their care, afraid to provoke her in fear of jeopardizing her new-found sanity. After treading on ice for a year without any strong, explosive reactions from her, they grew bold and decided that she must be alright by this time…Claire close her eyes completely and raised a wary grin as she can listen to the muffled arguments and footsteps approaching her doom…not realizing it is simply because she just cannot bring herself to care what they do. Determination rose as a tide within her, she will show them all.
Her door burst open with unnecessary force and slammed into the wall as her father advance toward her, roaring with rage, "CLAIRE EMILY YOUNG! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT! APOLOGIZE AT ONCE!" Claire looked at his indifferently from her position on the floor, so he expected to intimidate me as he has with Sophie and Brian? He got another thing coming if he think I would bow down that easily. Claire raised an eyebrow, look him in the eye, and promptly replied, "No."
He deflated, seems to be caught off guard for a second before recomposing himself, "This is NOT a negotiation, Claire. Your mother did not deserve that. You-"
"So?" Claire interrupted with no hint of respect, eyes challenging, "What are you going to do about it?"
His eyes twitched, Claire noted calmly through her observation, a rather angry vein is throbbing on his forehead. And purple really isn't his color.
He was speechless for nearly a minute before questioning her in disbelief, "What did you say?"
Claire flick her hair back lazily, "Whatever, I'm tired of this. There is nothing you can do to me. Stop poking your nose into my business and invading my personal space."
Rage consumes him as he took a step toward her threateningly, "You little…"
Claire didn't even blink an eye.
She reach over to her drawer and secure the fragile lamp her mother brought for her not long ago, "When are you going to realize that I don't care?" she asked calmly as she shatter the lamp beside her.
Claire's father flinch as the loud noise reach his ears, took a step back and asked weakly, "Claire, Claire, what are you…" Claire snatched up a piece of sharp glass with her pale dainty hand, appeared to be absorbed in studying its sharpness for a while before turning back her gaze to her motionless father.
"This will do." she mumbled softly as she see blood droplets appear on her finger after a light press.
She placed it upon the hollow of her throat. Right next to the vital vein.
Claire's father stare at her in complete horror. She is utterly serious, he realize with a jolt as he look into her emotionless face, unwavering eyes and steady hand. "Claire…" He croaked with a shaky voice, "Claire…don't do this,"
"Honey? Dear? Is everything alright? I just heard this terrible noise and-" her mother opened the door and instantly froze upon encountering the scene of her baby girl trying to kill herself while her husband is standing motionless right in front of her, "MY GODS! CLAIRE! What do you THINK you are doing!? You can't do this!"
Claire shifted her eyes on her and lifted her lips into a cold smirk, letting her rake a good long look at her empty eyes that spoke of her lost and watch her shudder in horror, "Try me." Her whisper seems to echo in this room as time stood still.
After a brief mental battle, her father's shoulder stumped in defeat, "Alright, Claire, do as you will. Just don't do this again. Come on, Hon, lets go and leave her alone." He gently guarded her hell-shocked mother out the door and shot her a sorrowful look before stepping out.
It didn't faze her at all.
She drop the shard and fling herself back on the bed. Finally…some freedom and peace…
