text: If they knew what I was. If they knew what I was and could understand it, then maybe that was something that I could do to help me. There was something in the air on the night of Christmas Eve. There were trees that littered the streets. I was struggling. My body was going against me, it was eating me alive. I didn't know what to do. One second I was standing up, the second second I was eating a person. The third second I was awake and alive, filled with adrenaline. Blood was pouring all over me. I didn't know what to do- because I didn't existed. There was nobody else on the streets that was with me that passed through the alleyway when I transformed. There was not a soul that heard me either, or if they did, they were deafened. There was nobody else that helped me, and if they did, they'd probably be dead as well. I. Am. A. Werewolf. My story is not a fantastic romance. I am not Jacob Black from twilight. I am a werewolf cursed, born, and made. A werewolf from conception and a werewolf from the second conception. When I struck my hand against tendons. The blood littered the street. They called it a murder. Every night on Christmas Eve I was made to transform. Every night on Christmas Eve I lose a day of my life to kill people. One life for three or four or five. I wasn't made to bargain. They did. There was nobody else with me when I transformed. I was always alone. Until I met a girl. My nose was transformed into a snout. Halfway through my transformation I inched towards her. Cravings was already taking me over. I knew nothing of what to do to help save the girl. I barely thought as well. I only knew that if I never ate I'd never be satisfied. I'm not poor. The streets didn't *allow* people to be poor. They allowed only people to be rich and healthy. There was nothing to do about that. And no one wanted to do anything about it either. Life here was perfect-ly and perfectly made for everyone. The girl stands there and I'm shocked. She has not moved an inch. This is a primal rage which is stunned and frightened. I'm perhaps even frightened at what I'm about to do. Maybe this girl will die tonight and that will be the end of it. Of my hunger. Chad knows what he is doing. He comes around and picks up the girl. I am barely transformed as they leave. I sigh on the cursed pavements. A bit of my mind comes back to me. *What?* That is all I can say. The streets pick up and vibrant colors fill through the pavement. Loud sounds rock my ears and I am left to coil over. I am so sensitive to it. Then the sound ends and I can finally fulfill my transformation. Tonight on Christmas Eve, I will kill again. There will be no soul that can stop me without a gun, and if they did, where would they shoot? On the head? I would be too quick and I'd eat them up alive. I feel threatened. A police officer comes into view and he says, "Stop." I turn around and kill him as well.