Dating My Stalker

1- The Worst Part


I got off the bus and looked in front me. My eyes started searching for the place that I needed to go to.

But of course everything was blurry. I was not wearing my glasses.

I hated wearing them out in the open. As my eyesight was not much worse, I only wore them when needed. Like when I was studying or when I could not see the far away things.

And right now was the same situation.


I dug my hand into my bag and pulled out my glasses. After they were over my nose, I looked up and searched for my college building while walking a few steps forward.

Across the road, a big building that had 'St. Edmunds college' embedded into it in letters made of metal came into my sight.

This was my first day as a college student. I had come here for admissions and other necessary procedures earlier, but today was my official first day as a student.

I crossed the road as fast as I could without getting run over by a vehicle and reached the entrance.

If I were to say that I was nervous, it would be a huge lie.

I was freaking out of my damn mind!

My school days had been something that I would never want to remember ever again.

I had endured torture. Not physical, but mental torture.

'Cause let's get the story straight, I am a werewolf. And I hail from a very small pack, and by small I mean, barely ten families in that pack.

We do not have all the necessary things that a pack needs, like schools and colleges and hospitals and what not.

So we had to go to different pack to study and treatments.

Now that is not the worst part. The worse part of it is inside me. I am the worst part of our pack.

The thing is, werewolves have enhanced physical and mental abilities. They have bodies that can break a rock and they have minds that can communicate with the other werewolves of their pack.

I did not have any of them.

Even though I could change into a beautiful, honey colored wolf, since birth, I was unable to communicate with my pack members mentally and I had physical strength slightly stronger than a human.

So all in all... as the other werewolves who met me said, I was not a werewolf.

I was just a human who could change into a wolf.

And because of that, I had to listen to the bad... BAD kind of words that you can imagine, from my schoolmates as well a teachers. Every day. Till I was out of that hell hole.

Now I would not be complaining if the torture was just limited to me.

But because of me, other werewolf packs had refused to give us any kind of help.

Because they thought that I, my pack, was the beginning of the extinction of werewolves.

Our financial status was not good at all. Because we did not have any businesses to help us strengthen that. So we had to manage with the earnings that we earned daily. Just like humans.

I knew my pack hated me. They hated the fact that I was born into their territory. They hated that I was born this way.

They hated that I did not kill myself.

Ha! Like I would ever do that.

Even though I was.. different, and I had to endure the worst kind of mental torture for being week and poor, my parents were the best part of my life.

They were the only ones who never treated me differently. Who loved me whole heartedly even though I had a sister who was not born with all these disabilities.

I and my sister were equal to my parents. And their love for both of us was unwavering and unconditional.

So no matter what I to go through in life, I stayed happy.

Why should I care if other people were bothered by my disabilities? They were my disabilities. I was the one who was not given the full blown package of treaty, amazing werewolf.

What the hell has it anything to do with their fucking assess?

So I had one mantra embedded into my head from childhood by my parents.

Fuck the world. You are your own kind of queen.

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