Sitting on the cold stone floor outside I watched as a spider spun his web of golden silk along the wires of fence that separated me from the world. The world which killed me and made me who I am today.

Growing up I was a normal child, well as normal as you can get when you witness both your parents being massacred by the notorious Dick Cheney. I had never understood why he let me go but some things are best left unquestioned. I had a pretty good childhood until then. We where effectively the perfect family but witnessing this perfect life being shattered, the pieces tore me apart and it became a shadow, a rain cloud over my childhood but I was coping okay and everyone told my grandma that I would heal because hurt like a small wound would close in time unless of course you picked away at that wound and you where scarred for life. Inside I was scarred more than any one could have known and that would in its self turn me into a monster.

During those awkward years when your changing and you’re mind is all over the place I was just like all the other girls , I was changing but in so many different ways . I was so angry all the time and for the first time I could remember what happened to my parents in agonising detail. I could see Cheney’s face; his disgusting snarl of a smile, his sharp blade slicing through bone. These thoughts haunted me so many times and I would suffer from violent attacks crying out for help; my eyelashes skimmed my cheeks yet somehow I was awake inside. On the last night before my fourteenth birthday I had sunk my nails deep into my skin and caused claw marks along my neck all in the small time of my dream . I decided that I needed help because self harm was a bench mark in my brain that screamed mentalist. I confided in my grandmother and her reaction infuriated me, she cried telling me how she had suffered to and how pathetic I was being and that’s when something really changed. I lashed out at her biting, scratching, clawing at her crinkled face rippled like the sea’s waves of blue her skin now laid smooth and raw along that cold stone floor. Stumbling out of the house and I sat beneath the full moon on the very same stone floor and I cried for my mother, father, my family and my sanity. Then I remember feeling the hot ball of aggression like severe heartburn explode into a blazing fire. My skin burned and my hands shook uncontrollably then my eyes glazed over and the world became ugly. From then on I was what only a children’s fairytale could describes as a werewolf. I was a monster. After that day I hid behind my cloak of red shadowing my face from the world and from the mirror.