I hitch hiked to Beacon Hill, California, all the way from Chicago Illinois. It's true that I could have traveled here on foot, being a werewolf and all, I move fast on my feet and don't tire easily. I would have arrived earlier believe it or not. But seeing as I was trying to make it harder to track my scent, my best option was to hitch hike. It had taken me five weeks to get there, barely sleeping during the entirety of the trip, I couldn't risk letting my guard down when I was being hunted by my old pack.
Truth be told I hated small towns, I loved the city life, I loved the noise and the hustle and bustle. That was exactly why I went to a small town. Truth be told, as soon as I got there, I realized how this wasn't the best idea I've ever had. I stood out in Beacon Hill like a sore thumb, with my cobalt blue hair, tattoos and piercings, I looked like an outsider, like I didn't belong.
The people treated me with respect to an extent, but still treated me like an outsider, a threat to their peaceful world. It didn't really bother me, I was used to being treated this way. I was a born werewolf in a pack of those turned by the bite. They had been my family, and now they wanted me back, and if I didn't go with them willingly they would take me by force, dead or alive it didn't matter to them. I had been the Alpha's mate, which had automatically made me his property. The thing about me is, I don't belong to anyone. I left when my Alpha became abusive with me, becoming so possessive and territorial of me, that I couldn't even leave his sight to use the bathroom.
Being a social person, it was hard for me to leave everything I've ever known behind, for a life of solitude. I had to leave though for my sanity and for my health. Though my sanity would take a huge hit, having to distance myself from social interaction, like I said before, I'm a social person, as are wolves.
This town was going to drive me nuts, another reason I shouldn't have picked such a small town, was because everybody knows each other and they are all so social, something I needed to avoid. I somehow managed to keep to myself, rent a house on the edge of town, getting a job as a barista at a small cafe and I walked wherever I needed to go. I payed my rent in cash and on time, convinced the owners of the cafe to pay me under the table, stayed out of trouble and only went out for work, and food. So basically I became the new town curiosity, a recluse barely seen outside of the cafe or my own home.
I was able to stay to myself for quite sometime, until a new scent came into town, one that put me on edge. It wasn't a member of my pack, it was just new. The news of his arrival spread fast, especially after half of his sister's body was found. Derek Hale, the story about his family burning to death as well as other stories weren't an uncommon topic at this point. I was beginning to feel bad for the man. The didn't last long though, he turned out to be a brooding douchebags. Although his sex appeal made up for most of that, though not all. He came into the coffee shop from time to time, ordering his coffee straight black, and I would oblige him. He didn't seem the type to startle easily, but he did look surprised when he first saw me. I didn't blame him, I get that look a lot when people see me for the first time in this small town. There was a sadness to his eyes, mixed with anger and hate, towards what or who, I didn't know. Derek Hale was just a bundle of flowers and sunshine.