I was at Karin's when my father got the letters. My father was very high up in the Wildcat goverment. In face he was the head, the top dog, the big cheese. With a hairy caterpillar on his upper lip and a jet-black tailored suit, he certainly looked like the 'character' he 'portrayed' as the jealous bastards would quote. Stroking Karin's cat fondly, her mobile started ringing an 80's funky beat.
"Uhh yes, hold on," She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "It's for you." I raised my eyebrows, and she handed me the phone.
"Dad?" I exclaimed. Something was wrong, I knew that for sure. He would never phone Karin unless it was important.
"You need to hurry up and get over here, it's urgent." Karin gave me a quizzicle look. I shrugged my shoulders.
"But Dad, we're just in the midde of -"
"ASTRID! I DON'T GIVE A FLAMING NOODLE ABOUT YOUR SOAP OPERAS. THIS IS SERIOUS. GET DOWN HERE. NOW."
"NOW!" He screamed down the phone, and hung up. I sighed, all I wanted was to loosen up the strained joints of my body, have a gossip and feel like a princess, and not some wild beast who morphs into a moulting monster. But no, of course not. Everyone else always has to come first.
"What was that all about?" Giggled Karin. "I could hear him raging from here."
"I have to go Karin." I said, with a monotone.
"Why? You just got here." She moaned.
"Family commitment. I'm sorry."
I got up and packed my bag. I swear I heard Karin mutter 'Whoa, talk about pokerface.'
When I reached home, my dads face was tinted scarlet.
"Couldn't take any longer could you, Astrid?" My dad snarled.
"I walked here, for your information. Karin's parents were out."
"Don't start getting cocky, young lady."
In exasperation, I rolled my eyes, and sunk into the sofa.
"ASTRID, STOP IT." He screamed violently.
"WHAT? WHAT'S SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU HAD TO DEPRIVE ME OF HAPPINESS? WHAT'S SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU COULDN'T BEAR TO LET ME BE A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL FOR ONCE SECOND. I'M STILL A KID, DAD, I NEED MY OWN SPACE, I NEED MY OWN LIFE. I NEED MY DAD BACK."
The room was silent for several minutes, my dad inhaling the smoke from his fat cigar.
"The werewolves have found us. Some leaked our personal information, including our location out to them. I'm the leader, so they'll hunt us down, trap you and force me to surrender. If I don't, which I won't, we all die. We've got 48 hours before that happens."
I was taken aback. Guilty as charged.
"Why didn't you...why didn't you just...tell me on the phone?"
"WHY?" He scoffed. "BECAUSE OUR CALLS ARE BEING TRACED YOU STUPID GIRL."
"W-what?" I stuttered.
"They're tracking down our phone calls. They're listening to them, and using the satellite to find us."
"HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS, EH? HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE NOT JUST TRYING TO FORCE ME TO DO ERRANDS FOR YOU?"
"Death threats." He replied bluntly. "We got them today, mountains of them flooding our mailbox from the werewolves." He shoved various colored paper to my face. It didn't take me long enough to gaze at them and realise that the handwriting was scarily familiar. It was Blakes. I tried to deny it to myself, but my conscience was too strong; Blake Rivers, my bestest friend in the whole wide world had sold me out, and may be the reason for my excruciating death.