My name is Jake Bareteeth, and I'm different. I'm a predator, born in Zootopia. Zootopia is supposed to be this wonderful place where everyone gets along, at least that's what the prey say. You see, predators have it hard in the big city, since prey outnumber us ten to one. Prey see predators as these big and scary monsters who could devour them at any moment. There are a few predators who have it better than others, like lions or tigers—or really any other larger predator who is respected.

I'm not in the 'respected' category.

I was born to Michael and Laura Bareteeth, both red foxes. We already have the disadvantage of being predators but being a fox is even harder. Foxes are seen as no good, shifty, sneaky thieves. Somehow, my parents had hit the jackpot in life—for foxes at least. My father's an accountant for an insurance agency while my mother is a regional manager for a company that makes car parts.

My family was far from poor, and we knew that. Both my parents had nice new cars, we all had our own TV's, good food—the list goes on. My parents were well aware that there were families who needed any help they could get. Any time my parents had any extra money to spare, they would give it to the poor families in Happytown. Happytown is a slum, riddled with poverty, primarily being predators.

I was lucky enough to grow up in the suburbs of Zootopia's downtown. The neighborhood where I grew up was full of tidy and expensive two-story houses. All the lots were fairly large, giving each family a good sized yard and some privacy.

These suburbs were full of prey families. Not only were we the only fox family, but we were also the only predator family to live there. The prey families didn't like us to say the least. They tried to get us removed multiple times, but, thankfully, we were able to stay.

Remember how I said I was different? Well, I don't mean some sort of disability or being gay or even being the only predator in a prey neighborhood type of different. I mean superpowers kind of different.

I know, I know. Who wants another superhero story? Well, I'm not like the other superheroes you read about in comics. I didn't get my powers from some freak accident, nor am I from another planet. I was born with my powers, and I don't know why. I can't fly, speak to fish, run super fast, or levitate stuff with my mind. instead, I control the environment around me.

I can control the water, the air, the earth, and other things around me. But I'm not the avatar like from that cartoon. I can also control the trees, the shade, the temperature. How do I know I can do all this? Well, we're going to find out. And it all starts at my kithood.


"Come on, Dexter. Give it back!" I yelled with the high pitched voice of an eight-year-old. I jumped up and down trying to get my lunch.

"What's the matter? Can't reach it?" Dexter and his goons laughed. Dexter, a giraffe, was two grades higher than me and far taller.

We were outside on a large playground. Normal as far as playgrounds go, full of mulch, swings, sandboxes, and slides, at Ridgemore Elementary. Ridgemore is the school district that I lived in, which means I was the only predator. The school was large, holding at least a thousand kits all wearing white and black uniforms.

Being the only predator was awful, the other kits avoided me like I was some sort of disease. No one want to even try to talk to me for fear or getting pushed around too, which I understood.

Dexter and his gang of ten and eleven years old had been bullying me since the moment they saw my red fur. They would always take my lunch from me and even steal my homework. No one would help me. The other boys would just walk past me, and the girls would watch and giggle.

Being a fox, I embraced they only stereotype that I would ever need—sneakiness. I had learned early on that Dexter would come for my lunch and homework, so I would pack a dummy lunch and ask for two homework sheets for 'extra practice'.

If my parents had found out that I was being bullied, they would have flipped. They would have marched straight to Dexter's house and confronted him like good parents. I'm glad they hadn't found out. If they had gone over there, Dexter would have played the victim card and gotten us in trouble. It would have been easy to say that, because we were foxes, we were lying and trying to get him in trouble.

I had grown used to Dexter and his gang picking on me, to the point where it didn't bother me. I would wait for them to have their fun and leave. I would pretend to be upset and even cry just to get them to leave me alone. If I showed no sign of fear or pain, I would get beaten up. Sometimes, they would beat me up just for fun.

Today was one of those days where Dexter would take my lunch and I would put on the show. The usual jump up and down, snatch at the brown paper bag and beg for my lunch back. They would throw my lunch in a circle around me, dropping it on purpose to flatten or crush the food. Sometimes, they would open it and eat it in front of me.

"Come on, Dexter. It's not funny!" I yelled indignantly. I have to say, for my age, I had become a pretty good actor, but it didn't take much to convince these dummies.

"It's pretty funny to us, Pipsqueak." Dexter threw the paper bag to one of his friends, a gazelle named Josh who opened the bag and took out the pudding cup I had in there.

"Oh, look what I found guys. Some chocolate pudding!" Josh proceeded to open the pudding and shoved all of it into his mouth.

None of the teachers ever helped me. When I first complained to one of them, they thought I was lying to get Dexter in trouble. Some teachers would even see me getting bullied on the playground and quickly look away as if nothing was happening.

Not even any of the teachers or staff were predators. To me, it seemed as though all the predators lived in the city or purposefully avoided this place.

The only teacher who was nice to me was the art teacher, Mrs. Stubs. Mrs. Stubs was an old antelope who could see the good in everyone. Sometimes, she would even let me eat in the art room during lunch. During my time with Mrs. Stubs, I had learned that there were always going to be bad mammals in the world, and the only way to fight the bad was not with more bad, but with good. She would always say that kindness would be the best way to move forward in society. She also told me the people would think all sorts of things of me, but I should only care about what I think of me.

The reason I couldn't eat with Mrs. Stubs every day was that she also worked over at the middle school, since there wasn't enough funding for the art program at both schools. At least when I go there, I'll be able to have some refuge. But, for now, I would have to suffer sometimes.

"Hey! That's my stuff!" I huffed.

"We know it is. That's why we took it." One of the goons chuckled.

My lunch was passed around to the various different bullies. They smashed, ate, and threw away all my food. The spectacle had earned a few onlookers—some boys on the swing, a few girls gossiping in the shade.

The crowd around us got bigger and bigger as time went on. The circle was closing in on me. I knew what was coming. I was about to get beat up. The taller fifth graders stood over me, looking down at me. I tried to make myself smaller, tucking my tail between my legs, flattening my ears, and hunching my back looking down at the ground.

I was waiting for the first punch, kick, slap, or spit. It never came. Instead, I had all the leftover food poured over me: pudding, squashed banana, peanut butter and jelly, and, worst of all, a small can of soda from one of the other kits. I could feel all of it sliding down my head and face, working its way down the back of my shirt.

The circle widened, and everyone now could see me, covered in trash. They all pointed and laughed at me. I cried. I may have cried, but I would not show them real tears that came from hurt. They thought they could crush my spirit but it takes the strongest of will to hold everything together, and refuse to give up.

The final bell of the school day rang. All the kits dispersed, heading in different directions. Here at Ridgemore elementary, the school day ended at lunch. As a consequence of our early exodus, we had to go to school all year round with only short, two-week breaks throughout the year. All the other Ridgemore schools went to school at the normal time and ended at the normals times. They even got to have a summer vacation, something I desperately wanted.

After a few minutes, I was left alone on the playground. All the swings were barren, the sandbox as empty as a desert, and the slides unused. I sat alone in the mulch, wiping away the fake tears. I stood back up and brushed what I could off of myself, leaving the trash on the ground beside me.

Though I had gotten used to the bullying and refused to show them that they really got to me, it didn't mean I liked it. Every day, I would go for a walk through the woods behind the school to forget about the torments I endured in an attempt to make myself feel better.

The forest was vast and easy to get lost in, but I never got lost in the place. I don't know why. It just seemed like I knew the place like the back of my own paw. The forest was full of all kinds of different trees. It had large rock formations with winding streams and creeks. Best of all, there was a freshwater lake right in the middle of the forest. I had never seen anyone there before, like no one knew it was there and it was all mine. I loved to swim in it on these hot summer days and walk on it in the cold winter ones that seemed so far away.

I walked through the forest, admiring every tree I came across and inspecting each stone. I loved the feel under my feet—the dirt, leaves, roots, and moss. I was amazed by the bright blue skies above me that were barren of clouds, as though the sun was shining just for me.

Walking through the forest, I thought about my life. I had lived in Ridgemore for all of it. I had never had any friends, only bullies who pick on me for what I am. I never really learn to trust anyone or how to be properly social with other mammals.

As I continued to walk, I let my thoughts drift and wonder, why were these kits bullying me? Was it just because I'm a predator and a fox? That couldn't be why. It had to because they were jealous of something. Hate doesn't just spring up out of nowhere, does it? They must be jealous of the fact that my parents care about me, right? These other kits have parents who have their maids or housekeepers make their kits lunch or don't even pack one at all. They have the newest gadget put in their face to distract them and keep them away from their parents.

My parents were amazing. We made our own food, my mom packed my lunch, and we watched TV with each other every night. We didn't have any maids or anything like that. I did chores like every kit should do, learning discipline and how to earn things. My family was a real family— parents who loved their kit and paid attention, giving them praise when they did good or helping them when they do something bad.

I nodded my head, passing several trees while lost in my thoughts. "Yeah, that must be why. They're jealous of me, a fox." I said aloud, a smirk break my solem frown. All those prey mammals who bullied me were jealous because their families sucked. I smiled the rest of the way to the lake.

The lake was a fairly small one, being able to see the other side just in sight. Despite its size it still had sandy shores with large rocks scattered all the way around the lake. The water itself was clear and cool. I could see all sorts of fish swimming out there peacefully going about with their lives thinking nothing about life outside their lake.

I scrambled up onto one of the smaller boulders, warmed by the sun. I could sit there for hours, enjoying the warmth and the fresh air. I could be out here till night and see all the amazing stars and constellations that lit up the night sky. Suffice it to say that I loved nature.

Sitting on that boulder, I thought about all the things that made me happy in life. I remembered every Christmas with my family and birthday without anyone other than them, all the fun summertime activities during our short breaks, the movies I watched with my parents on Fridays and Saturdays.

The air around me seemed to warm even more with happy thoughts. The water in the lake lapped further onto the shore, reaching closer onto the small sandy beach. The dark and cold shadows receded, the sun shining brighter.

My thoughts drifted out into the future, all the possibilities that awaited me. My smiled slowly dissolved into a frown. What would happen when my parents died? Who would I have? I haven't had anyone other than them. Who else would love me after they past?

My heart was racing as fast as my mind. I pulled my legs into my chest, wrapping my tail around my ankles. Tears began filling my eyes as my thoughts kept getting dark and more lonely.

The sun seemed to go out as it was cover with large, stormy clouds that hadn't existed moments before. The bolder below me lost all its warmth and became cold to the touch. I looked around me seeing everything change. The air got cold and the shadows bent and reached out towards me. I jumped off the rock onto sand that shifted below my feet. The bolder I was just on began to shake and shift along with other rock and pebbles around it.

I backed away from the boulder slowly, thinking whatever was happening was caused by the rock. The shadows that had been stretching towards the rock twisted and bent in my direction. The soft sand that I had stood on a few minutes prior was now hard and cool. The small ripples and waves from the lake got bigger, trying to reach for me.

I was frozen, full of fear. I had never been this scared, not even when I'd gone through that haunted house last year in Zootopia. Everything around me seemed to react to my increased fear, reaching closer and closer.

I felt the ground harden. I feel to the ground and brought my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. My tail tucked itself between my legs. I shut my eyes tight and buried my face into the ball I had created with my body.

The water reached me first, touching the bottom of my foot. I pulled my foot back and tried to make myself even smaller. The water came at me again, this time, covering my foot. The liquid wasn't cold like I had thought it would be, instead, the water was warm and almost reassuring. The strangest thing was that my foot didn't even feel wet. The water washed up on the hard sand around me, warming my body but not soaking it.

I lifted my head slowly. The shadows were still reaching out for me, but the water had stopped them from getting to me. I looked to the sky. The sun had broken through the clouds and was shining down on me, keeping me from the darkness.

I took shorter, less panicked breaths. I was calming down. The clouds cleared up, the shadows slowly receded, and the pebbles and rocks sat still. Then, the water slowly returned to the lake, and the air warmed again. I felt safe again.

A deep, but soft and reassuring, voice spoke to me. "Don't be afraid. Learn to control it."

I stood bolt upright. I looked around me but saw no one there. I couldn't see any footsteps in the sand, couldn't smell any mammal, couldn't hear the crunching of leaves and branches under foot.

My heart rate picked up, adrenaline flowing through my body. I continued looking around me for any sign of the mammal who had spoken to me. Had anyone even spoken to me? Was I just hallucinating? I had to be, there was no way anyone could control the water, shadows, air, and rock. There definitely wasn't anyway someone could have talked to me. There was no one here with me.

"H—hello? Who are you? What happened? What do I need to control?" The questions came pouring out as I continued searching for the voice.

No reply came, only a warm breeze.

I sighed. Looking over the lake, I remembered why I had come here. I wanted to get all the trash and food out of my fur. I remembered how everyone had laughed and pointed, not a single one of them trying to help me. They never did.

The small ripples and waves in the water began to get bigger again. I sat at the edge of the water, just out of it's reach. I thought of all the things I wished I could do to get back at all those bullies, I let the anger and hate fill me. The water became more violent, small waves crashing at the edges of the beach. I noticed the sudden change in the waters behavior.

"What is going on!" I yelled, running my paws through the fur on my head. "Why is nature acting so weird?"

The water receded. The waves stopped, and the water pulled back further than it usually would. All across the lake the surface had stopped moving—no ripples, no waves. The liquid was still, it looked like a large mirror I could walk on it.

I thought about just going home and forgetting everything. I looked down at the sand covering my feet. I couldn't go home, my parents would see me and freak out and the whole nine yards.

I let out a sad and defeated sigh. I took off my uniform and walked reluctantly into the water wearing only my boxers. The lake was still perfectly still. Everything around me was quiet. It was a creepy and tense kind of silence that made me feel like I was being watched, which is not a feeling you want as an eight year old wearing nothing but boxers.

I ducked my head into the water to rinse the sticky mess of food out of my fur. Pulling my head out of the lake with my muzzle dripping, the surrounding water was still perfectly still. The water that dripped off my fur, hit the surface and disappeared without a ripple. I ignored it. I had to be imagining all this. It couldn't be real. I may have been eight, but I knew that when something dropped into water there were always ripples.

I still had gunk all over my back. I submerged my whole body and used my paws to wash the trash off of me. Even when I broke the surface of the water, nothing happened, no wave, no ripple, no splash.

I looked over the lake one last time before exiting. It was as still as could be. Even when I stepped on the beach, the water that fell from me hit the sand and rolled into the lake instead of soaking in. It was like all the sand was waterproof. Even the boulders had moved, leaving trails in the sand and the trees bent towards the lake from all sides. I ignored it all, pretending nothing had happened and it was all a figment of my imagination.

As I got dressed again, I was relieved to find that my clothes were getting wet. At least one thing was normal. I picked up my backpack from the sand and walked through the forest to where my home was. As I walked, I noticed the birds in the branches watching me perfectly silent, as if waiting to see what I was going to do.

I took the same path from the lake to my house everyday. I knew every little detail of that flattened path. But as I walked, I saw new roots and rocks that had come from nowhere. I saw a few trees that were closer to my path than they had been the day before. I walked faster, feeling as though something was behind me and wanted to get me.

I broke through the brush of the forest behind my house. My parents were lucky enough to buy a lot right in front of the forest. We never had any nosey neighbors or had to see other families in their own house. Having a house by the forest was the best. Your back yard was huge, you never had to worry about shade, and the air was always cleaner.

My house was two stories, with a ground level and a basement. My room was in the basement. I know what you're thinking, what parents would make their kid live in the basement? Well, I wanted to have my room down there—my own little fox den. The basement was the coolest place ever. We had a pool table and a second living room. I even had my own bathroom. And we had a small gym down there. The upstairs was awesome too, with an office for my mom, a giant kitchen, a fancy dining table, a nice comfy living area with a big TV, and, of course, my parents room.

Walking out into the large back lawn we had, I noticed all the grass blades bending slightly towards me. I chose to keep walking not looking at anything but my house. I walked up to the back door and let myself in.

I heard my mom call from the kitchen, "Hey, Bud. How was school?"

I set my bag down beside the dining room table. "It was good. Where's dad?"

My mom walked up to me, holding a plate with a sandwich on it. "He's still at work. I made you a sandwich. Your favorite too!" She placed the plate on the table and looked me up and down. "Why are you all wet?" She asked, raising a brow.

I picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. "I went for a swim in the lake," I said with a mouth full of peanut butter and jelly sandwich, forgetting about the one that had been in my fur.

"You like swimming there don't you?" She smiled, "Oh and before I forget, tomorrow there's gonna be a special guest to talk to your school." Mom giving not explanation she walked out of the dining area and into her office, where she picked up the phone that was ringing on her desk, ending our conversation.

I ate the sandwich and went down to my room. I brought my backpack with me, since I had math homework. Once there, I set my bag down and flopped onto my bed dampening my covers. I went over the events at the lake in my head. I didn't understand any of it. It didn't make sense.

After a few minutes, I rubbed my paws over my face and decided I needed to get my homework done. I sat up in bed and grabbed my bag, opening it and pulling out my homework. I looked down at the worksheet. We had been given fractions, the worst thing to ever be created. I changed from my soggy clothes before sitting down in my chair.

I sighed and pulled out a number-two pencil. I set the worksheet on my desk and began not understanding any of worst thing about fractions is that the teachers don't let us use calculators. I stared at the first problem for a few minutes, making no progress. After thirty minutes I had finished just a few problems, it was like I was relearning fractions and my teacher was whispering in my ear. Everything my teacher had told us about the fractions were slowly coming back to me.

Once I had finished I packed all my things in my bag and layed down in bed. I laid there going over what had happened less than two hours ago. The lights began to flicker and the shadows stretched and contorted into arms across my wall. What happened wasn't just the lake. It must be me! I was causing all of this, but how? The lights stopped flickering, but the shadows remained. If I really was the cause of all of this, then I had to find away to control it like that voice had said. I watched enough movies and TV with my parents to know that if anyone found out, I would be taken by the government and turned into a weapon. I didn't want to be taken from my parents.

I took a few shaky deep breath and tried to calm myself. The shadows went back to where they had been.

I raised my eyebrows. Maybe, it was my emotions. If that was the case, I needed to learn to actually control my emotions not just act like I was. I focused on my feelings and remembered all the good things I had experienced in my short life. The air in my room became raised a degree in temperature, the lights got a tad brighter, and the shadows receded.

Definitely the emotions, I thought, letting the memories slip. The room went back to normal. Well, this is going to be hard.

Later in bed, I tossed and turned in my sleep. I was having nightmares about being lost and surrounded by darkness. I was trapped, stuck. I couldn't move or do anything. I was in an abyss. I couldn't see anything—no walls, no ceiling, and no floor and yet it felt claustrophobic. I could hear laughter. But not like the kits from the playground, evil laughter, deep and unremorseful, the kind that came from people who really wanted to hurt you, not just take your lunch or homework.

I could feel whatever was surrounding me slowly creeping closer. It was like that feeling I had had in the forest when everything was calm and still. All the evil laughter had stopped, but I could still feel the presence of whatever was slithering around me.

Something was about to happen. I could sense the tension in the air like it was about to pounce on me. The attack never came. There was a blinding light forming in front of me, I brought my arms in front of my face. All the darkness slowly creeped away. The laughter was replaced with what sounded like tortured screams.

I looked to the light. I wanted to run to it, to safety, but I was still stuck in place. I could see a silhouette of a mammal—a fox like me. The figure got closer and so did the light. The light itself seemed to be coming from whoever was walking towards me, like a miniature sun.

The figure knelt down to me. It looked like no one I had ever seen before. "It's alright little one, there is nothing to fear. Become great and good, and the darkness will fear you. Become tainted and hateful, and the darkness will claim you, taking you away from everyone you love and everything you hold dear to you."

The voice was the one I had heard at the lake, the deep but reassuring voice. The fox was a red one. He had a scar over his left eye and white markings all over his face. He was wearing something I couldn't comprehend. It seemed like pure light, I couldn't look for fear it would blind me.

I stood there finally able move, I took a step towards the other fox, further from the darkness. "Who are you? What's happening? What is it that I need to control?" I found myself asking the same questions I had at the lake.

The fox looked at me with a warm smile, as if he had been expecting the questions. "I don't have a name. I have been given many, but none are mine. As for what's happening, I can not yet say. You will find out in your own time. And it is the same for what you need to control. The power you have recently found is no accident, nor is it a toy." he seemed to warn, "It is a tool. Tools aren't good or bad; however, their users can be. Which will you be?"

"I want to be good I guess, but I don't know how."

The larger fox just smiled saying, "You will know with time, but I suppose you know what a bad person is, correct?"

I simply nodded, thinking of Dexter and his gang. I looked at the mysterious fox not knowing what to address him as, "Can I call you Red?" I asked.

"I haven't been called that one before, but I don't see why not." A smile made its way onto the foxes face.

I smiled as well, moving on to the next question on my mind, "How did I get these powers if they weren't an accident?"

Red put his paw on my shoulder. "You know how you were born yes?"

I shook my head.

"Well," He pondered, "I planted a seed in your father, and he passed that seed onto your mother. That seed was you and had the power lying dormant until now."

I creased my brow, "How come I'm getting these powers now instead of later or earlier?"

Red looked me in the eye, knowing everything I had done up to this point, "I suppose it was your feelings taking over as you thought about a bad future, but you will never be alone, for you are you father's and mother's son, but you are also my son."

I tilted my head in confusion, "So, I have three parents?"

The fox nodded. "You must never tell anyone about me or your powers, not even your parents. There will be one other in your life, and only they will know. You will not tell them, but they will know something is different about you."

I nodded in understanding, "W—will I ever see you again?"

The fox stood. "You will see me in the faces of the mammals around you, canines, felines—anything. You will see me in your dreams like tonight, and maybe, someday, when the time comes, face to face. I will be watching you throughout your life. Make me proud. Make the right decisions."

Before I could open my mouth again a new light filled my vision. This light came from the one in my bedroom. It was softer than Red's, but still present. I felt a paw shake my shoulder, but I didn't see anything. I looked to Red who smiled and waved goodbye.

My mother's voice intruded my dream. "Wake up, Honey. It's time to get ready for school."

I opened my eyes slowly, looking up at my mother. She couldn't know what was happening to me, no one could. Only one person would be able to tell there was something different about me, but I couldn't even tell them either.

Once my mom saw that I was awake, she walked out of the room to get breakfast ready. I looked around my room. The shadows were shifting and moving. Against the dark, I could see the same silhouette from my dream. The silhouette moved a ghostly finger and brought up to it's lips.

I hadn't had a dream, I had just had a vision. Normally, I would have already forgotten a dream, but I remembered every vivid detail of that vision—every evil laughter, the blinding light that had saved me, and the face that had given me life.


I was riding the school bus, obviously full of prey kits. These kits were different though—these kits knew me and my family. They didn't hate me as much as the others. They didn't bully me. They only ignored and avoided me.

Sitting alone in my seat on the bus, I looked out the window. I saw trees and houses pass by. I was thinking about the vision that I'd had the night before. I didn't know how to feel about it. It was exciting, terrifying, surprising, and any other emotion you could feel. Thinking about the vision made my heart race and my emotions were so out of whack that it actually helped me control my powers.

I hoped that Red was watching over me. I hoped I could make him proud of what I've done and what I could do. I would make him proud. I was going to make sure I made all the right decisions and did the right thing. A new thought came to mind—Aren't I like those heros from the old myths? Would I really going to die a tragic death and have some sort of fatal flaw?

I would have to be sure that I watched my own behavior. Not be too proud, but be humble. Not be jealous, but be happy with what I have. Not be greedy, but give like my parents did Not be lazy, but stay in good shape—the list went on and on. I wasn't going to end up as a bad guy. I couldn't. I wouldn't allow myself to become like those evil laughs from my dream.


I was sitting in my desk for math class. The teacher—Mr. Maine, a zebra—was teaching us how to divide fractions. He was one of the nicer teachers in the school, but he still wouldn't help me when I was being bullied. He was writing on the chalkboard trying to teach us the same problem for the third time.

Everytime Mr. Maine would turn around, some of the kits would shoot spitballs at me or blow and flick my ears. As time passed, a light would flicker in the room or a cold breeze would pass. When I noticed the change in temperature or saw a flicker, I would take a deep breath and calm down.

If I had to live like this, I was going to learn to be the most well-tempered mammal to ever live. I would need to learn to control my anger, my embarrassment, and maybe even my happiness. I would have to become emotionally dead on the inside, and I didn't want that.

I would have to find a way to control my powers and separate them from my emotions.

Why not try now? I thought.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I reached out my thoughts and senses. I thought about the temperature cooling. I imagined icebergs and snow capped mountains.

I could feel the room drop in temperature a degree or two. I smiled to myself. Maybe I could keep my emotions from controlling my abilities. It would be slow and gradual but I could show emotion and be me.

I opened my eyes again, and the room temperature went back to normal. I was pleased with the fact that I was able to control what ever power it was I had. I wouldn't need to worry about my emotions.

One thing struck my mind. If no one could know about my powers, how would I be able to use them? How could I help people like I wanted to? If I couldn't use my powers, then why did I have them?

While I was deep in my own thoughts, a voice came over the P.A. system. "All students go to the auditorium for the assembly with our special guest."

There was a collective cheer in the class. Everyone began putting away all their pencils and notebooks. We all picked up our bags and exited the classroom, heading towards the auditorium.

Walking down the side of the hallway, I tried to stay by the wall. I tried to stay hidden, so no one could see me. I kept my tail tucked and head down. It didn't work, it never did.

I felt a slap on the back of my head. Then another. And another. Dexter and his groups of friends walked passed, laughing at me. I could feel my anger growing. I noticed how the shadows from the passing kits were bending and twisting towards me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes tight, calming my nerves. I wouldn't let the shadows get to me that easily.

Entering the auditorium, I tried to go straight to the back. A teacher saw me and told me to fill up the seats up front first. I was surrounded on all sides by the kits who bullied me. They were going to mess with me the whole time. My patiences was going to be tested and drawn out. The assembly was supposed to last a hour.

We waited for the rest of the kits to file in and take their seats. While we sat the kits around me blew and flicked my ears, pulled my tail, yelled in my ears, and punched the back of my head. The shadows grew closer and closer.

The lights above us went out, and the spot lights turned on. All the kits went quiet and sat in their seats. Everyone had their attention focused on the stage. I sighed in relief. I didn't know how long I was going to be able to hold in my anger and frustration.

A white wolf walked on the stage wearing a ZPD uniform. He held a microphone and stood center stage.

The wolf introduced himself to us. "Hello, kits, my name is Officer Howler, and I work with the ZPD. I'm here to talk about an epidemic that is controlling our schools: Bullying." The wolf looked at the the audience of prey. When he saw me, he kept his eyes on me as if waiting for something. "Bullying is something no one should ever do. Bullying is illegal, meaning you can go to jail for it."

The entire auditorium was silent. The air was tense. Everyone knew they, in some way, had done something illegal. A few kits quickly glanced at me before looking back at the wolf. I tried to make myself smaller.

Officer Howler must have noticed this because he kept his eyes locked on my area. His voice took on a hard edge. "I'm sure there are some of you who have been bullied before. I know that you know what being bullied feels like, and how much it can hurt." The Wolf continued to speech for another hour.

After the assembly was called to an end, everyone shuffled out awkwardly. All the kits glanced at each other without saying a word. We were all making our way through the door. I was at the back, so I wouldn't have anyone hit me again.

"Hey, Fox." It was Officer Howler.

I looked back at him. He waved me over. All the kits whispered to each other nervously. I walked back over to Howler, and he led me away from everyone. We sat in the chairs of the front row.

"Tell me, kit, are you bullied?" He put a paw on my shoulder. "You can tell me." He said softly.

I nodded my head.

The wolf let out a small growl. "It's alright. I'm not mad at you kit. It's the prey. You must have it pretty bad here, being the only predator."

I nodded again keeping my head down.

"Don't worry, I'll have them taken care of. It's what we do at the ZPD. We help people." The wolf smiled and stood. He left the auditorium leaving me sitting in my chair.

I smiled to myself. The room got a little brighter. I knew now what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was gonna be a police officer and help people.