Jake
The ground was soft beneath my feet. The sand tickled as it made its way in between my fingers and toes. The waves crashed on the shore and then drew back as yet another came. On the distant horizon, several fins popped up.
I smiled, but it never reached my eyes.
See, I've been a dolphin before. And I know that all they basically feel is happy carelessness. All life is just a game to them.
So when I morph, when I become one of them, it's an escape for me. It's a way out of the war; out of the fear and killing.
At least for two hours.
But after that, after I'm forced to become human again, the empty feeling returns. Sometimes it's worse. Most often it doesn't change. My feeling of emptiness lies deep in my heart, so it's very hard to get rid of.
One of the many side effects of carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.
But for dolphins, and even dogs too, the only sadness they feel is when they don't have anyone to play with. When no one will throw a ball to them, or jump out of the water with them.
I guess you could say I'm a little jealous.
Because it's not that way for me. I'm the leader of a small band of resistance fighters.
Five kids, and an alien.
When I go home, I'll have to deal with the enemy right there. I'll have to look him in the eye and remind myself why I'm fighting so that I don't spill everything. I'll have to laugh at his would-be-funny-jokes, and talk to him as if nothing's changed. As if he's still my brother.
I don't want to go home. Not yet.
So for now I'll just watch the sunset.