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My name is Boe, I'm a five foot-eight and a half inch arctic fox with black edged ears, black hands but my fingers remained white, black tipped tail with a black strip that ran all the way up my tail and back until it hit the back of my neck, a stripe on both sides of my hips, black feet though my toes were still white, and a black heart on the left side of my chest. My eyes are deep emerald green, even though you would only be able to see my right eye because the left if covered by my bangs. My fur doesn't always change color through the different seasons like other arctic foxes, though I don't really mind. The part that sucks about having most of my body covered in white fur was the fact that it was easy to see dirt and stains, so bathing and grooming is a common activity for me.

I live with my mother, younger sister, two younger brothers, and my grandmother in my great aunt and great step uncle's house along with the conjoined number of thirty dogs... yes, I know, thirty. My grandmother has nine dogs, my mother had two, my great aunt and step uncle have thirteen plus five new born puppies, and I have one; Tyy is his name and I love him so much, even when it seems at times he doesn't love me back.

Yes, I know, there's a lot of people (and dogs) under one roof, but the reason for that is kind of a long story, so to put it simply, it used to just be me, my mother, my sister and two brothers, then my grandmother moved in with her dogs, then my mom's landlord decided to evict us for no reason, so now we're living in my great aunt's and step uncle's house along with the thirty dogs (which I have come to hate with a burning passion after living under the same roof for over six or seven months).

Well, I suppose I can't say HATE, cause I don't completely hate the dogs. Mostly I do hate them, but I find myself patting them on the head every once in a while, that's gotta count for something, right?

The dogs aren't the only thing I don't like around here either. Recently, my grandmother has been getting on my nerves... actually everyone has been pissing me off, but grandma is at the top of the list. She's always telling me what to do, how to live my life, how to take care of my dog (Even though my dog is the most well behaved dog in the house) and everything else she could think of. I'm seventeen, I'm not a kid so I don't need to be told how to live my life every single day from the moment I get out of bed. I really can't wait till I move out of the house.

Some day's I wish I could just go to work and forget about everyone back at "home" (I can't really call it home, it doesn't feel anything close to home to me), but my job only run's through the school year and it's still summer, so I'm stuck in this hellhole.

I guess you'd think that I would be anticipating the school year to start back up again, but the truth is, I absolutely loath my school! I'm treated the exact same way I am at home; people always telling me what to do, how to do it, when they want it done ect. ect.. Honestly, I'd rather stay at home and get an earful from my grandmother.

I don't really like work either, my boss is... different. Some days, she's the easiest person to get along with, other days she's biting my head off from the moment I walk through the door. She doesn't really treat us employees very nicely, though the work hours are pretty flexible, but that's really the only good thing about it. My friend and I have been looking for another job because neither one of us wants to go back next year, even though my boss said that we'd be getting a raise when work started again. I don't know what to do, maybe I'm just being ungrateful? I mean, it is a job, it's a chore, not a privilege.

I know what you're probably thinking; 'this guy is so spoiled, if he thinks life is hard, just wait until he moves out!' Truth is, I know life is only going to get harder, I'm not stupid, but does that mean that I have to suffer every single day? Should I have to? If so, why? If everyone was made to suffer every day, why are people really alive then?

I don't know, but maybe life outside this charade I play every day will get better when I get out of the house? It's a nice thought, really. It keeps me going some days, I just tell myself, 'just wait one more year, then you'll be eighteen, a legal adult; no one will be able to tell you what to do anymore.'

... something about telling myself that makes me feel like I'm just lying to myself inside... maybe it's just because I don't know what live is outside of being told what to do all the time.

Guess the only way to find out, is wait...

Chapter One.

I sat on my bed with the laptop resting on my thighs as I typed away. I was writing another new story that had come to me one day while watching The Walking Dead and tapping on the back of my grandmother's iPad. It had nothing to do with the television show, but rather the tapping I was going. I had come up with a character that communicated through tapping his claws on surfaces, and after that a story fell into place through that.

That's normally how I write stories; I get a good (or sometimes bad) idea on how to create a character and their personality, then I put them in the first scenario that pops into my head, think of a conclusion and just worry about the beginning and middle parts (not always in that order), most of the time I just make it up as I go along, which seems to be doing me just fine.

I knew that I probably wasn't going to finish the story; I never really did. There was once where I wrote a forty-five page story from start to finish, but it was supposed to be a series and I never finished the second part.

I wrote this other story on accident called, The Prince and The Pirate. It was only eight or ten pages long, but I liked it enough to post it on a website where people could share their stories. Not long after, people started to like it and I found myself writing another story, even though I didn't really want to take the story any further.

Five or six stories and sixty-five watchers later, I come to a stump in the series that I didn't know how to get around, so I ended up giving up on the story. No one seemed to really care, so I guess that was alright, but I still kinda felt bad for stopping the story just because I didn't know how to continue it without making it look bad.

I had started other stories and posted them on the website, but they didn't seem as popular as The Prince and The Pirate, and eventually, I just stopped writing all together for a couple months... until now, that is. I don't know if people will really like this story as much as the other ones, but really, the way I see it, is I'm writing what I want and I'm just letting other people see it. A somewhat selfish thought, but over time, I learned to be just a little bit more numb to what other's think or want of me.

I probably sound like a heartless, snobby brat, don't I?

I sighed as I hit save on word documents, closed out of it and hid the document somewhere inside of several different folders so that if anyone were too look, they'd have a hard time finding my works. The computer I have isn't totally mine, it's my sister's and brother's too, that's why I want to buy my own laptop.

I have enough money to buy one, but I don't really like spending more than forty dollars on one item (even though the PlayStation I bought was two-hundred and forty-three dollars). I know; there's no way in hell that I'm getting a full-fledged laptop for less than forty dollars, but I'm a patient being, I can wait till I'm ready to be serious about looking for a laptop.

I bobbed my head slightly to the music coming out of the speakers of the laptop as the song Dude (Look Like A Lady) began to play. I'm a fan of the oldies music. Sure, eighties music isn't THAT old, but it's before my time, so I consider 80's and before oldies. Some of my favorite oldies songs were Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gee's, Low Rider by Funk, One Way Or Another by Blondie, The Phantom of the Opera (no judging) I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston, Take on me by a-ha, some Bon Jovi songs and so many more. I know, I'm a boring person and I didn't have to list so many songs when you obviously got the point since before the third song, but I like them a lot.

When the song was over, I closed the laptop and pulled out my phone. I unlocked it and opened Facebook. I didn't really like Facebook, but I did like to see what kind of funny vines were posted and what was going on with some friends every once in a while.

This was my life; get up, let my dog out and feed him, then play on my phone, watch movies, play videogames, take my dog for a walk, argue with grandma or mom or both, go to sleep, repeat. Not too exciting right?

~*~

It's been a couple weeks sense I started that new story, but I've lost the vibe now and don't really feel like continuing it, though I'm not surprised. It's always like that. Now I don't really know what to write about. I really want to write something, but I have no idea what... maybe I should ask some of my watcher's on that website what I should write, maybe do something like a commission, that way I'd have an obligation to finish that story. That kinda sounds like a good idea... maybe I'll do that when I get home.

I crossed another street as I continued my walk. Normally I take Tyy with me, but today, he didn't seem to want to go for a walk, so decided to go without him, which is fine with me, that way I don't have to worry about him getting hit by a car or getting away from me again. I fear for him a lot and I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to him. One day while he and I were taking a walk, he had somehow pulled the leash out of my hand and dashed away from me. Something must have spooked him because he never runs away from me like that. I ran after him as fast as I could, and though I'm a pretty fast fox, Tyy was faster. I'm just glad he knew where he was going and I found him as the front door of my old house. Scared the shit out of me, and though I don't like to admit it, I cried. I just sat there on the porch, holding Tyy and crying.

But that was sometime last year or the year before, I don't really remember. I never told anyone about that day except for my mom a few days after it happened. Though it might have been a scary event for me, I didn't really consider it dire and worthy to share with the rest of my family, especially my grandmother who would have a royal cow if she ever found out... I don't really need her on my tail about much more these days anyways.

As I walked down the street, thinking about the day I nearly lost my dog, the sound of a yelling woman made its way through my ears and into my thoughts. As first, the yelling just sounded angry, so I thought it must have just been a mother scolding her child or wife hounding her husband, but eventually, those yelling of anger turned into screams of fear. I looked in the direction where the sound was coming from. Down the street to the left of me was people coming out of their homes and standing on their lawns to see what was happening. Whatever was going on, I couldn't see it because the street curved behind a row of house. I watched the watching people, hopping that someone would do something (whatever was going on) but everyone just watched like freaking idiots.

I looked ahead of me and could see the driveway back to my great aunt's house and considered just leaving, I thought that whatever was going on must not have been that big of a deal because no one was doing anything, but if someone really was getting hurt, I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I just walked away.

I turned to my left and began jogging across and down the street. The yelling and screaming only got louder as I made my way down, and eventually I could begin to make out another loud voice in the mix of it, then another voice, both masculine. They sounded like they were arguing, but I couldn't tell over the woman's loud screaming.

As I rounded the corner, I saw three people standing in the middle of the lawn of a random house. There was a man holding a woman around her neck with his arm and holding a knife to her temple with his free hand. There was another man there, a young wolf that looked to be maybe a few year's older than me, but then again, I'm bad at judging peoples age. Immediately I tried to subconsciously figure out what was going on:

The man (a fat, gruff looking tiger) holding the women had a wedding band on his left finger, as well as the women (who was a grey with age furred wolf). The younger wolf looked somewhat like the woman, but judging by his jacket and motorcycle that was parked behind him as he yelled at the man, he looked like he was the biological son of the wolf, but he might not live with her, he seems old enough to be on his own, so someone must have called him over just before the fighting started. Then again, it was just a wild guess.

As I got closer I couldn't really tell what they were yelling about, not that I was really listening, I was too focused on finding a way to get the knife away from the woman's head and out of the tiger's hand.

I was now standing next to the younger wolf, though not too close because I still didn't really know him, far enough away to react if he tried anything. No one seemed to so much as notice me, but when I tried to take a step closer, the tiger's eye's darted from the wolf to me as he scowled and said; "Stay the fuck away!"

I took a step back.

"Get outta here you nosy-ass brat!" he yelled at me.

The younger wolf wasn't yelling anymore, now he looked at me with eye's that told me to just leave.

I looked back to the tiger. "I'm sure we can talk about this-"

"I SAID GET OUTTA HERE, DAMNIT!" he roared angrily. I started to walk away the way I came, best not to get a man with a knife and a hostage mad.

I kept backing away until I was safely out of view from behind a few houses. Now what was I going to do? I couldn't just leave that poor lady with that sick bastard... could I? No! With half an idea hatching in my mind, I ran alongside the house I was hiding behind until I was in the back yard. I could still hear the yelling, but I couldn't see the tiger or wolf, so they must not have been able to see me either. I made my way crossing through the back yards until I was behind that house that the fight was in front of.

I walked up to the back door of the house, praying that it was the wolf and tiger's house and not someone else's. The door was unlocked, which was good, so I made my way inside. I'm pretty sure this was considered breaking and entering, but what would you do at a time like this?

Upon entering, I found myself in the kitchen, but the room was disturbed and untidy as if a struggle had just taken place, which is probably where this whole thing started. On the counter, there was a knife box, which is exactly what I was looking for, and noticed that one of the knives were missing; the one most likely in the tiger's hand right now. I went up and looked through the knives, I wanted one that was long enough, but not wide enough to cause too much damage; I just wanted to disarm the tiger, not kill him.

Grabbing a four inch, narrow knife, I made my way back to the back door. I closed the door quietly, though I doubt anyone would have heard me through all the yelling and threats that were being thrown about. I ran to the other side of the house and made my way down until the front yard was in view. I was almost directly behind the tiger and the younger wolf didn't seem to notice me yet. I stood there for a moment, thinking of how this might play out; first thing's first, I'd have to somehow brace his arm so he couldn't harm the woman before I do anything else. Then I'll have to stun him, probably by using the knife, but in a non-vital area. By that time, the woman would have gotten to safety and the younger wolf should jump in and help me out... but on the off chance that he goes to comfort his (assumed) mother, I'll have to find a way to take him down myself...

I sighed nervously, he was much bigger and most likely stronger than me, so I'll have to use my speed and his weight against him. Damn... I've never done anything like this, I've never even so much as been in a serious fight before... well, I guess there's a first time for everything...

Taking a deep breath, I sprinted for the tiger. He didn't hear my footsteps, so I could still surprise him. Before I knew it, I had gotten behind him and put my arm in the crook of his elbow so that he couldn't harm the woman. The tiger started to yell fiercely and I felt his arm ready to move to stab the wolf when my free hand used the knife I had to plunge it into the arm the was holding the woman. Most likely from shock, the tiger let go of the woman and let out a howl of pain.

I saw the woman stumble away from the corner of my eye and the wolf in coming fast from over the tiger's shoulder. I moved my arm out the tiger's elbow so if he tried to break it, he wouldn't be able to reach my arm. I saw the wolf jump and I knew what he was going to do, so I let go of the tiger and stumbled away as the wolf threw both his feet into the air and knocked the tiger right knot his back.

Before the tiger could recover, the wolf had already gotten on top of the tiger and was repeatedly punching him in the face. I watched from my place on the ground as the tiger's face and the wolf's knuckles begin to get bloody. The wolf lady was trying to yell at him to stop, but I could tell by the look in his eye that he wasn't near satisfied yet. I jumped to my feet and ran to the young wolf's side. "Hey, buddy! It's done! It's over! You can stop now!" I said, but he wouldn't listen.

Taking a step back, I threw all my weight into the wolf and knocked him off from the tiger. He fought for a moment to get back up when I heard the wolf say; "It's okay Marcus, I'm alright!"

The wolf looked over to the woman and I could feel his body start to calm down. I looked up to him, he was panting and he still looked like he wanted to beat the shit outta the tiger, but he wasn't fighting to get up anymore. "You okay now?" I asked.

He sighed and nodded. I helped the wolf up and he thanked me before he went over to the woman's side. "Are you okay, mum?" he asked.

I patted myself on the back, not because I helped save a life, but because I was right about the relation between the two wolfs. I looked around at the watching crowd, some of them had just called the police, but most of them looked at me in amazement and actually started to clap and cheer for us. I smiled bashfully before I started to walk away; all I really wanted to do right now is go home.

My legs were very shaky and my heart was beating a million miles an hour. It felt kinda hard to walk and like I was going to collapse any moment now, most likely because of my damn nerves, but I pushed on and kept going on my way home.

"Hey, wait!" I heard the woman call and felt her hand touch my shoulder. I turned around only to get locked into an embrace. "Thank you so much, young man. Thank you, thank you, thank you..." she whispered over and over again.

I patted her back softly. "It's okay ma'am, no big deal." I said, but she was shaking just as violently as I was. For some reason, I just wanted to cry and stop shaking, but of all my actions I did already, I can't show weakness right now.

"No, really," the younger wolf (Marcus I suppose) said from behind his mother. "Thank you so much, is there any way I can repay you?"

I just shook my head as he pealed his mother off from me. I couldn't say much right now, my body was still shaking and my stomach felt somewhat queasy. I really hope I don't puke... "No it's alright. I have to be getting home now."

"Do you live far from here?" the wolf asked.

I shook my head. "No, just down the street, the big white house on the hill... I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well, I really think I should be getting home." I said and began to walk away again, only faster this time. God I feel like I'm gonna pass out... I could hear the wolfs thanking me and insisting that they repay me in some way, but all I could think about was bed...