I. Our School

1784 Words
I never expected to be chased by werewolves. Then again, I should've known better when I signed up for the whole werewolf hunting program. I mean, it was supposed to be a quick buck. After all, they won't catch who they're trying to find. Idiots. If only I knew how to save money. Then, I wouldn't be stuck in this type of situation. Of course, I'm getting too ahead of myself. Let's rewind time. I would say it all started about half a year or so ago. I'm not sure. I don't exactly have the best memory in the world. It was a Monday morning. Generally, I don't dislike Mondays. For me, it's another day of the week, except it was chosen to be the start of a school or workday. Unlike the other days, it got the short end of the stick. I remember that Monday - kind of. It was sunny and awfully hot. The beginning of the school year is always so wonderful. "Julia!" I scream, then rush towards Brenda. We grab hands and leap around, "I miss you!" She hugs me, "I miss you too!" "How is summer?" We said at the same time. "Good. And you?" We couldn't stop it. "Stop it!" We laugh together. Brenda and I had been friends since we were in elementary school. If I'm the right foot, Brenda is the left. If I'm the left hand, she's the right. We share half a brain. Slowly, our group made their way and formed a circle. I'm not that different from other teenagers. I love Friday nights and am a complete sucker for rom-com. I like to secretly mock other students with my friends for laughs. We would hang out at each other's houses during weekdays, or if I were lazy, I would spend my time at home on my phone. My parents think I'm a waste of space and pray that I would do something with my life every night. I dyed my hair purple in Junior year. That wasn't what my parents had in mind about doing something with your life. "How was training?" Eric asks. Brenda and I are both from a long line of hunters. We knew each other because our parents were in the same hunting group. Around three or so decades ago, werewolves appeared in public eyes. Of course, there's bound to be a war if a whole new species arises. Somehow, the conflict between werewolves and humans triggered some genes inside humans. Thus, hunters. They call it the MACTN3 gene. The ACTN3 gene regulates the ACTN3 protein produced in fast-twitch muscle fibers. ACTN3 protein deficiency results in a lower proportion of fast-twitch muscle fibers (more slow-twitch muscle fibers) associated with endurance. The M stands for mutations. So, mutations in ACTN3 genes. Scientists theorize that all humans have the gene type, but it is triggered under different conditions. Once the gene triggers, it's a lot easier for the generation after to switch on their genes. Survival, I guess. My grandpa had his gene trigger. Fought the war and everything. He's dead. But, before he died, my grandma was pregnant with my dad. Mom's gene was triggered when she was attacked by a werewolf when she was younger. So, naturally, my genes were activated when I was younger. I was two when a knife accidentally fell on me. I blame dad, who could never put his stuff away. I caught it with one hand and stabbed the cabinet repeatedly until mom came out of the bathroom. I secretly think I have some sort of psychopathic tendencies. I remember her words to this day: "My new cabinets!" After that, I was enrolled in hunter's school. My ancestors didn't expect much from me since they were all average hunters, and they were right. I scored in the average range nearly my whole life. I can see my future already. One day, during a mission or maybe on my way to the office, I would run into someone. We would get married, and our children may or may not be hunters depending on the environment. Many hunters would marry humans, and sometimes, their children's genes don't switch on. All because you're a hunter doesn't mean you're anything special, and you should only marry other hunters. But, some may have a thing or two to say about that. Scientists theorize that the natural environment is trying to balance out the number of hunters in nature. Similar to how werewolves cannot reproduce quickly compared to their humans' counterparts. Werewolves can have one or up to two children per generation. I guess to get something. You have to give something. Humans were born weak so that we could reproduce faster. Werewolves were born strong, so they reproduce slower. Ah, mother nature. Brenda and I groan at the thought of training. During any breaks, hunters have a mandatory three weeks of training. Just in case another war breaks out. All because you don't want to be a hunter, it doesn't mean they don't have the right to prepare you. Which is complete bullshit. The older hunters get, the more they realize how they don't want to go to war. I mean, who wants to die for their species? Not me. I cried when I got a cut on my finger. And even if I do heal faster than humans, it doesn't mean I don't feel the pain. So, when I was in middle school, I enrolled in a public institution with a mixture of humans and hunters. Down the line, I'll get a regular job away from the field. I'm pretty sure one day my co-workers would somehow find out about my MACTN3 gene and say: "What a shame. You would've been a great hunter!" But we both know they won't really mean it. It's all small talk. Brenda snaps her fingers in front of me. "You're zoning out again." "Am I?" "What were you thinking about?" "How disappointed my future co-workers will be in me once they realize I can't catch the plastic knife they throw at me." "Hey," Eric says. "No one blames you for what happened. Who would've thought that a principal would throw a knife at their student." "I'm surprised your parents didn't sue him," Brenda said. "Can't. He had the Hunter Agency backing him up. Something about surprise knife throwing is part of the contract. It's considered training or something like that." The group walks into the building to select our lockers. Just kidding. We already sneaked into the school two days ago and put locks on our lockers. Everyone at school does it. "That bullshit training," Eric says. "That's what the first guy who got stabbed on the shoulder said too." I wasn't the first student to get stabbed by a surprise knife throw, which is why they made hunters sign contracts before attending their school. "I wish I was him." The first guy who got stabbed got a butt-ton of settlement money from the Hunter Agency. "I heard he brought a pyramid." "That's the dumbest s**t I've ever heard," Brenda replies. "Yeah. I would've brought storage spaces," I said. They look at me. If it weren't only Brenda and Eric, I wouldn't have said that aloud. The rest of our group left earlier to meet other friends. "People are always going to need a place to store items." We're natural hoarders. "I get monthly payments without doing much." "Is money all you think about?" Eric asks. "Sometimes, I think about what I'll eat later." When I noticed a crowd, I got noisy. "What's going on?" "You didn't hear about the announcement?" Brenda question. "No. I'm just asking for kicks." I gave her a duh look. "Of course, I don't know what's going on." "I swear if you didn't meet me early in life. You would've been friendless." I snort, "Please. I'm awesome." "Alright. Time to find a new best friend." Brenda pretends to walk away. "Before you do that," I said. "Can you tell me why there's a hoard of students there? I would think it's a fight, but they're all staring at a wall." I wish it were a fight. "They're announcing something," Eric says. "Such as?" "An important announcement." My eyelids narrowed, and I gave him a blank look. "Thank you for the in-depth explanation." "You're extra sassy today," Eric grumbles. "My mom thinks I've been relaxing too much during vacation, so she woke me up at 4 am to run." Brenda places a hand over her chest, "Oh. My poor child." She hugs me, "Bless you for staying so strong." "I know," I said. "It was rough, but I promise I'll hide better from my mom. She can't take me out running if she can't find me." "You know if you spend as much time training as you do figuring out different ways to get out of things. You'd be a kickass hunter," Eric smart-mouth me. "Didn't you drop out of hunters' school in second grade?" I rebuttal. "Did you get chased by wild dogs in second grade?" Somehow, someone thinks it's a good idea to let wild dogs chase elementary school students to increase their speed. "No? Yeah. I didn't think so." "Oh? Did you get a knife thrown at you by the school principal? No?" I mock him. "I didn't think so." "Alright. Alright. Children. You need to settle down," Brenda interfered. "Let's all agree that we're all equal failures." Brenda, Eric, and I are dropouts. As in, we drop out of the path of becoming a hunter. It's actually quite common for people to drop out. It could be anything. Personal experiences. Fear of dying. Inability to withstand the field. They didn't have enough talent to be a hunter. Your genes can switch on, but it doesn't mean you're equal to the guy next to you. "You truly made my day," Eric says. "Always pushing that self-esteem, aren't yah," I include. She hangs her arms over our shoulders, "Shut up. There's a reason why the three of us are together." "Failure is not a reason to bond over!" Eric said. "Meh. It is what it is," I smile. "I can see you will do alot for humanity." I gave him two thumbs up, "I leave my Carbon footprint just like everyone else." "Do you know what just spills out of your mouth?" "Nope." When I looked forward, most of the crowd was gone. Even if I ask these two what's going on, they'll somehow get distracted again. "Look. The crowd is gone." I head towards the wall. The contents of the flier seem questionable - unbelievable. "They're announcing werewolves will go to our school?"
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