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Right. So. I'm a werewolf. I'm just going to be honest with you from the start. It's actually kind of nice. You know, except for having to chain myself up every winter solstice. (One winter solstice the world was even supposed to end. I, sadly, missed the going-away party.) Oh! And the constant urge to attack people. Yeah, that's not very good for my image.

But like I said, it's not all that bad. Continuous hunger makes it hard for me to be picky. And some children find me cute when I'm fluffy. Well, you know, before I make them sprint away in mortal terror. I also have never worked out a day in my life yet still retain all this muscle. Maybe it's the protein. Who cares? Chicks dig the muscle: I'm happy. Everyone wins. And now, they've got these awesome pills that subdue the symptoms. Yes, lycanthropy is now a known and treatable disease. Somewhat. I still get the regular, “What the HECK are you?!” routine every once in a while when I freak out. And by freak out I mean scare the living crap out of people sometimes.

Like... Like this one year! One year I went to a Halloween party as myself. No costume, just honest you know? Let's just say I was the life of the party that night. I learned two things: A full moon is a terrible time to have a party, whatever the occasion; and people don't like it when you're honest.

Needless to say, there's never been a permanent cure for lycanthropy. Everything I take either only lasts for a little while or only subdues the symptoms. Nothing stops me completely. So I've started trying my own remedies. Wolfsbane in the pocket comes in handy, but it doesn't stop me from changing: it only helps me keep my head. Most of the time. Plus, there's always the off chance that someone who wants to kill me could just grab it out of my pocket and force me to eat it. Which would be lethal, by the way. I've also tried pure silver necklaces. Now they keep me from changing. Again, most of the time. But on the other hand, they often chafe or cause nasty bruises. I can't figure out if this is just from their sheer weight or because I'm a werewolf.

So now you see my dilemma. And now I hope when you meet me you won't just be like everybody else and scream or judge me. Remember, I don't want to kill you. I'm just a cuddly....killing machine capable of ripping you in half. But don't think about that if you ever meet me. Remember the nice guy that wrote this. Remember I'm not really a fan of this life. And remember I'm trying to be normal like you. (And definitely remember when something moves in the forest not to shoot it, okay?)

But I'm not ending it here. Someone needs to know about my life, and I have a lot more to tell whoever is reading this. Think of it as a book of confessions. Confessions of a Teenage Werewolf/Wannabe Human has a nice ring to it, don't you think? So just bear with me on this. Who knows, maybe you could be the next person to come up with an actual cure and then we could go have coffee or something. Normally.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Right. So. I'm a werewolf. I'm just going to be honest with you from the start. It's actually kind of nice. You know, except for having to chain myself up every winter solstice. (One winter solstice the world was even supposed to end. I, sadly, missed the going-away party.) Oh! And the constant urge to attack people. Yeah, that's not very good for my image.

But like I said, it's not all that bad. Continuous hunger makes it hard for me to be picky. And some children find me cute when I'm fluffy. Well, you know, before I make them sprint away in mortal terror. I also have never worked out a day in my life yet still retain all this muscle. Maybe it's the protein. Who cares? Chicks dig the muscle: I'm happy. Everyone wins. And now, they've got these awesome pills that subdue the symptoms. Yes, lycanthropy is now a known and treatable disease. Somewhat. I still get the regular, “What the HECK are you?!” routine every once in a while when I freak out. And by freak out I mean scare the living crap out of people sometimes.

Like... Like this one year! One year I went to a Halloween party as myself. No costume, just honest you know? Let's just say I was the life of the party that night. I learned two things: A full moon is a terrible time to have a party, whatever the occasion; and people don't like it when you're honest.

Needless to say, there's never been a permanent cure for lycanthropy. Everything I take either only lasts for a little while or only subdues the symptoms. Nothing stops me completely. So I've started trying my own remedies. Wolfsbane in the pocket comes in handy, but it doesn't stop me from changing: it only helps me keep my head. Most of the time. Plus, there's always the off chance that someone who wants to kill me could just grab it out of my pocket and force me to eat it. Which would be lethal, by the way. I've also tried pure silver necklaces. Now they keep me from changing. Again, most of the time. But on the other hand, they often chafe or cause nasty bruises. I can't figure out if this is just from their sheer weight or because I'm a werewolf.

So now you see my dilemma. And now I hope when you meet me you won't just be like everybody else and scream or judge me. Remember, I don't want to kill you. I'm just a cuddly....killing machine capable of ripping you in half. But don't think about that if you ever meet me. Remember the nice guy that wrote this. Remember I'm not really a fan of this life. And remember I'm trying to be normal like you. (And definitely remember when something moves in the forest not to shoot it, okay?)

But I'm not ending it here. Someone needs to know about my life, and I have a lot more to tell whoever is reading this. Think of it as a book of confessions. Confessions of a Teenage Werewolf/Wannabe Human has a nice ring to it, don't you think? So just bear with me on this. Who knows, maybe you could be the next person to come up with an actual cure and then we could go have coffee or something. Normally.