"Well, thank you for an amazing day!" Malia whispered into my ear, holding my arm tentatively as we walked into the school hall. Since we had a whole day to fill, I took Malia to the one place in this city that made me happy; The Navy Pier. My mom had taken us there a couple of times after Rebecca was born, and I loved it. It beat being stuck in the house with my father all day. The second we stepped onto the dock I could practically feel Malia's enthusiasm, the atmosphere was buzzing, the sunlight reflected perfectly off of the waterfront; just everything, everything was good. Especially the three rides we took on the Ferris Wheel, the third of which we were pretty much making out the whole time, but still, it was good.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here?" She asked, clutching on to my arm to reassure me that we were okay. She knew that I wasn't, I was shaking, my breath was uneven, and I'm pretty sure I was moments away from a heart attack. 'Please don't recognise me', was all I could think about as the rest of the audience swarmed around us.

"Yeah." I choked out as we found our seats, a place half way between the stage and the exit. "You drag me to Chicago and now you're asking me if I want to go back?" I managed a laugh, but it was filled with nerves. She wrapped a protective arm around my back, pulling me into her, and I pulled the hood on my coat up over my head, before nestling into her side.

We stayed like that as the crowds around us found there places in the audience, until a couple tapped on Malia's shoulder, asking to get past. I looked up at them, my face still hidden from the shadow of my hood, but I could see clearly. It was them, it was my parents. My heart stopped beating for a moment, and in the moment I needed her support most, Malia stood up, allowing them space to get through. My mother passed first, stopping before me, waiting for me to move.

I took a deep breath, and stood up, my knee's almost buckling underneath me as I did. I looked in the other direction, desperately hoping that they didn't recognise me. My heart felt like a drum, banging painfully against my chest as she brushed past me, thankfully not paying any attention to me. My dad was different, he moved slowly, as a predator would as he stalked his prey, and I could feel his eyes burning into me. I didn't have to look to see the displeased expression he wore; it was always there, always when he looked at me. He eventually sat in the seat beside me, and Malia pulled me back into mine.

I looked over at her, her stare filled with confusion, but my own, probably terrified expression answered for her. 'They're my parents,' I mouthed, my lip quivering slightly as my father huffed besides me. He didn't want to be here, he never did. He never showed up to any of my lacrosse games, not even the one where we won the State Championship, but then again Rebecca always was the favourite child.

Cutting our dramatic moment, all the lights in the hall dimmed, and a group of girls walked on to the stage, signalling for the audience to settle down. I heard my father mumble something along the lines of 'this better be good,' and the play begun.

After at least fifteen minutes of poorly directed acting, the one face that I recognised was finally on stage, a bright smile on her face as she took in the audience. My father chuckled lightly besides me, and my mother let out some form of a squeal of excitement. Malia noticed, "Is that Rebecca?" She whispered to me, and I replied with a nod. "Then stop smiling so much, they'll think you're a creep," she stated, nodding towards the couple besides us. I quickly looked at her, I hadn't even realised I was smiling, but whatever I was doing was replaced with a sarcastic stare.

"Thanks," I replied, my voice thick with sarcasm. She stuck out her tongue playfully before resting her head on my shoulder, and we both turned back to watch the show. The play was about school life, ironic, I know, but it was showing how the class progressed each year, with all their funny moments. Rebecca was in a scene with three other girls, where they had all prepared a dance routine.

Everything was great until someone in the group made a slight fumble, the audience were sympathetic, and though they all expected the group to carry on, Rebecca quickly started shouting at the girl. My mouth fell wide open; the pure rage that she showed was... Immense. It was completely out of her character. She's the sort of girl that wouldn't harm a butterfly, but here she was, completely going off on one at this poor girl. The audience gasped in horror, my father sunk in his seat, hand pressed against his forehead, whilst my mother had sat upright in her chair, observing the incident as best as possible.

I looked back at the stage, and I'm sure I saw her eyes flash golden, just for a second. I turned to Malia, "Did you see that?" She nodded, and we both stood up, heading straight for the stage. By this point the girls were being dragged off of the stage by teachers, the curtains were pulled across frantically and the audience began murmuring amongst themselves. I could hear my parents behind us, my mother dragging my dad anxiously along as she pondered what was wrong with Rebecca.

We reached the side of the stage, quickly heading up the steps, about to cross the curtain until someone placed a hand on my chest. "Sorry sir, you can't go back there unless you're a parent or guardian." I looked at the ground, sighing deeply; I had to get Rebecca out of here.

I looked back up at the man slowly, gently tugging my hood back to reveal my face, "I am, my names Tyler Hoyt." I whispered as my parents approached, quickly pulling the hood back up to conceal my identity. The man jumped backwards, a look of horror on his face, and he dropped his clipboard, slowly reclining the hand he had placed on my chest.

"But-but you're dead," He stuttered, too quiet for anyone else to hear, "You're dead!" He shouted, much louder this time, grabbing almost everyone's attention. I froze by his words, 'you're dead'. No way, they wouldn't have done that! I'm their son; they wouldn't just pronounce me dead. Everything went numb, Malia's hand was on mine, but it felt empty, I felt someone grab my shoulder and spin me around, another going to my hood to yank it down, but to me everything seemed frozen.

...Until his face was in front of mine. And all I saw was red. I pushed him off of me, grabbing his hand and twisting it as if to break his arm in two, and he crumpled to the floor. I could hear the faint sound of muffled screaming, but it wasn't loud enough to wake me from my trance. He fell backwards to the floor, and I sat over him, knowing full well that our roles had now changed. I am the predator. You are the prey.

I swung my fist, connecting straight to his jaw, and again, and again; over and over until blood smeared his cheeks. I felt hands clawing at my body, trying to pull me away, but I shrugged them off with ease. My arm recoiled again, but it was stopped, this time by someone much stronger. Malia put her other hand around the side of my face, and forced me to look at her. "Tyler." She said sternly, and it was the one thing I could hear through all of the commotion; my anchor.

She pulled me backwards and people crowded the beaten man on the floor, I stared down at my fist, covered in my father's blood. I did that. My mom didn't seem to care, she rushed to me, cupping my face as I struggled to take it all in, she was crying, and soon she had pulled me into a hug.

Realising all that had just happened; I felt like I was suffocating, I had a sudden need for air. I pushed the broken woman off of me and ran to the edge of the stage, jumping down from it with ease. The remaining audience mumbled around me, although I could hear everything that was said. "He's supposed to be dead." "How can he be alive?" "What a messed up family." Everybody's gaze followed me as I stormed out of the building, the fresh air hitting me like a brick wall.

Soon I found a wall for support, and crumbled down it, unable to keep myself upright anymore. I panted for breath, inhaling and exhaling in fast, short bursts as my mind wandered over the past half an hour. Why did I agree to come here?

A/N: So there's your chapter, I'm sorry if it wasn't all that good. I've gotta be honest, I don't like the way it's turned out- I really struggled to write this! So I just kind of went with it, in the hope that the next chapters will be better!

So Tyler hates his dad with a passion, everybody in his hometown thinks he's dead, and Rebecca is transitioning into a wolf... Just in case you didn't get all that in the story ;)

Hope you all enjoyed! Thanks again to everybody who reads, reviews, favourites or follows this story! Y'all are awesome!

~Abi