Chapter 1
Normal… I continue to beg once again to the air that taunts me every day and night. Especially night, from the moment a sliver of the moon has appeared to the second that it becomes full. Why can't I just be normal? Why do I count the days until a new moon, when I can get a break from it all? Why does it have to be so difficult to be around normal people?
Of course I'm not the only one who is conflicted with questions that might not ever be answered…. There are others. I'm sure there is a scientific word for "mythical creatures" somewhere in a school book, but we just say mythical creatures, although I take it as somewhat offending. If we are not a myth, then how can we be mythical? But yes, there are others like me who are just as troubled as I am, if not more.
I watch in awe as the sun goes down, slowly but surely, and then open my bedroom window. If it's not open by the time I turn tonight, I will probably end up shattering it to pieces anyways. My parents told me I did that when I was younger, and in order to diminish any suspicion from people, we had to cover them up with long clothing and makeup. I walk to my bed and pull my blankets from their tidy tucked-in spot under the pillows and lay down, letting myself sink into the thick comforter and pillow that swaddles my head in feathers.
2 hours of sleep is about all I get, so I suppose it's a good thing that it's all werewolves need. When I wake up in the morning, I won't remember anything that I did while I was transformed, until I have a vision. I only have visions when I come into contact with the things I encountered while I was turned. So if I even walk into a place where I was last night I will have a vision about what I was doing while I was there. It's not that complicated, really. I'm not the only werewolf either. My best friends, Nichole, who I call Nic, and her boyfriend, Asher, are also werewolves, and they stay with me and my parents, along with their families as well. I know because we all have visions with each other in them sometimes.
I am 15 years old, but in "Wolf Years" I'm 105. But that's considered young. My dad is 39, so he is really 273. All of us mythical creatures only live to be around 50, to keep the population low. About 1/3 of the people in our school are mythical, same with all the other schools. There are the Vamps, who are usually either nerds or jocks. There are the many fairies, of who some are enchanting and beautiful, and some are ugly and unpleasant to be in the presence of. Centaurs, half horse, who are dare devils because of their wild and unpredictable ancestors. Dragons, which are either over protective or easily threatened. Then there are the wizards, who have to be right all the time. They get on everyone's nerves because they never remember anyone's name. They're too focused on the spells they have to cram into their tiny little heads.
Normal people don't know about us. If they did, we would be an attraction at a zoo and eventually, a museum. And besides that, there would be people who would walk around saying, "I wish Iwas a vampire!" or asking, "Can Ibecome mythical?!" Some of us mythical creature's do not have the patience for them, and the population of know-it-alls and snobs would decrease. That's when I black out.
Before school, Nic, Asher, and I rendezvous at the courtyard. I am sore from traveling last night. We must've run to a far greater place to eat, though I don't see why the forest here in town wasn't good enough for food. Nic and Asher are also sore, maybe more than I am.
"God, how far did we go last night?" Asher gripes, rubbing his forearm.
"I don't know Transylvania or something?" I chuckle. I'm looking around at all the other people near us to make sure no one is listening. A cool breeze pulls the summer heat off of our skin and its only 8 am. The sun starts to appear over the building and about 3 Vamps walk inside the school.
I sense 2 Fairies a Dragon nearby. I envy them. They transform willingly, they aren't forced to turn at certain times like Centaurs and Werewolves are. I spot Charlotte and Grace, and immediately know where the fairies are that I smell. They always smell like an alluring mixture of flowers, soil, and leaves or grass. Grace is a Dryad, or the spirit of a certain tree. If the tree is cut, she's cut. If the tree is sick, she's sick. If the tree dies, she does too. She obviously takes very good care of this tree in order to stay in good health. However, Charlotte is a Siren, and they're not as affable as Grace is. Sirens, better known as Mermaids, will allure anyone with their enchanting voices. When they're swimming, they persuade a person to get in the water with them just by captivating them with a drop-dead gorgeous lullaby. I learned in mythology that there was a man who wanted to hear a siren's song, but he didn't want to be lured into the water. So he had someone tie him to something heavy weight and listened without being drowned. Smart man.
Then over in the corner hanging out with a group of gothics is Alvord, the Dragon, who literally always smells like fire smoke. No kidding. When someone smells like they have been breathing smoke besides the pot and weed, you'll know who and what they are. The bell rings.
"If you want, we can help you find out what your Talift is?" Nic tells me as we walk to the school door with our things.
"Nah. The only thing I've learned since we started that is that I'm not charismatic. Why is it so hard to believe that I didn't get a Talift like everyone else?" I reply.
"You spend too much time asking questions and not enough time finding answers, Kristine." She elbows me playfully.
"Yeah, yeah. But anyways tonight is a-"I look around. No one's listening. "New moon. I'm staying with Miranda tonight." I declare.
"Mm... Be careful…"
When the Earth blocks the moon from the sun, there will be no gravitational pull to trigger transformation- my day off. Miranda, my only other friend who isn't mythical, gets curious of why I never stay the night with her when she asks. Well problem solved. No suspicion.
We sit on the bed and plan out what we're going to do on a blank paper clipped onto a pink clipboard. Like we're 12 again.
"So, why don't you ever have a boyfriend?" I look at her, trying to look confused. "Just wondering." She says. I start writing again.
"I don't know. Maybe guys don't like me." I say.
"That is so not true! Like ten guys of high school like you. I've counted." She makes a point. If I wanted a boyfriend I could easily get one. And I do, but I can't.
"Maybe I don't like them." I reply.
"You don't like girls do you?!" Her eyes get wide in disgust.
"You wish!" I shove her shoulder playfully.
We laugh.
"But seriously, you need a boyfriend." She lies out across the bed and pulls off her socks.
"Guys are just distractions from education and future references. A husband when I'm grown is all I need." I say sophisticatedly.
"No boyfriends at all?"
"I don't see the point." I tell her.
"Oh." She looks down and thinks about that.
"So what else should we do tonight?" I add.
"Scary movies! Like, hide-under-the-covers-scary!" She says loudly.
"You read my mind." I smile mischievously.
We spend the whole night watching rated R terrifying movies before passing out.
