I wake up screaming. I am covered in sweat and I can still feel the fire burning me. I try to calm my racing heart. By now, I know no one will come to check up on me. My parents and sister got used to my screams and nightmares.

To be exact - nightmare. I always have the same nightmare that ends up with me waking up screaming in pain. The nightmare starts with a man that is on his knees, and his wrists and neck are chained to the ground, making it impossible for him to stand. I can't see his face because he is always in flames. He looks at me and says something that I never hear and then I am burning. And I can feel the fire even now and I can swear I smell burned skin.

Unable to sleep, I go to the kitchen. I decide to eat a piece of cake and have a glass of milk. Maybe it will help me feel better.

"You always eat during the night," I hear my mom behind me. "No wonder you are fat. Who will want a mate that is fat? You should be more like your sister."

I am sick of being compared to my sister. Alana, my perfect little sister. If only my mom could see how Alana acted outside the house. She thinks Alana is an angel.

"Yes, mom," I say.

I put the cake back but keep the glass of milk. It is not my fault I am fat. I have tried dieting, running; you name it. I am just different.

I am not like the other werewolves from my pack. At seventeen years old I still haven't shifted. At this point, I have lost all hope that one I will shift. All werewolves experienced their first shifting at the age of fourteen. Basically, I am a fat werewolf that can't shift. Who wants a mate like me?

I go to my room and close the door. Looking at my clock, I see it is 6:12 AM. I don't even try to get more sleep. At 8 AM I start school, anyway.

I go to the shower. Once I am done and I dry my hair, I try to arrange it so I won't stand out so much. But there is nothing I can about it. Been born with pink curly hair and violet eyes makes me stand where ever I go. I put on a hoodie and hide my hair under the hood.

I make sure I have everything I need and, at 7:45 AM, I get out of the house and go to my school.

"Here comes Piggy," I hear my sister say, and more werewolves laughing.

Some even make oink, oink sounds at me. I rush to get inside the school, while more werewolves laugh.

Alana is nothing like me. She is popular, beautiful, and is always surrounded by her group of friends. I, on the other hand, don't have friends. Who wants to be friends with the crazy girl that wakes up screaming every night, claiming someone is burning her?

Ever since I can remember, she calls me Piggy. "Is because you are fat and have pink hair. Just like a piggy. "

I have learned to ignore her a long time ago. I enter the school and I am glad when mostly everyone ignores me.

During classes, I try to be as invisible as possible. It is only in art class that I can express myself.

After school, I rush home. I don't want to hear more pack members make fun of me. I know how they love making fun of me. Every day is the same.

Only four months left of school and I am out. I can go to college and finally study what I want. I love to paint. And I want to paint as much as I can. My parent won't agree with me going to art school but in July I will be eighteen.

When I get home, I go straight to my room. I leave my backpack next to the door, change my hoodie for a t-shirt, and sit at my desk. I take out a new sheet of paper, my pencils and I let my hand draw. It is only when I halfway through the drawing that I realize whom I am drawing, the man from my nightmare. Lately, I have been drawing him a lot. What is it about him that makes me want to draw him so much?

Fury

How long has it passed since I have been chained? Time here means nothing. The only constant companion I have is my fury.

The Demon King chained me and cursed me to burn in flames every day. He used fire from Hell to burn me day after day. During the night my body heals, only to burn again the next day. And it goes like this forever.

The only thing that still keeps me sane is the vivid memory of how my lady Charlotte looked like. I see her pink hair, violet eyes, and red lips. I see her so well in my head that sometimes I see her in front of me, and when I whisper her name, she burns and screams in pain.

The fire starts again. At first, the fire burns my feet, and then it goes up my waist, my torso, and until it swallows me whole. I feel my newly regenerated skin burning. It hurts so bad. But I heal fast, making the pain unimaginable. It goes on for hours upon hours of burning, but I never die, no matter how much I wish to die. Sometimes I scream in agony, sometimes I curse the day I was born, or I beg to die, and most of the time I make promises of vengeance. Because one day I will break free on my chains and kill all those that force me to suffer this agony day after day.

I will make them feel pain and scream as I do now because everything that I feel is fury. Fury! I am Fury!