I wish I owned Animorphs, but I don't, It's all K.A.'s
A/N: I'd like to apologise to those of you who were reading my story when I stopped posting. And I'd like to especially apologise to my wonderful beta for leaving her hanging. I ran into a brick wall a while back and now I'm reworking the story a bit. You probably won't notice much of a difference until chapter 5. I hope to post more often now, so thanks for your patience.
Chapter 1
Cassidy
My name is Cassidy.
I wish I were still the way I was that morning. That fateful morning when my world was turned upside down, I wasn't contemplating the fate of our planet. I wasn't waking up from a horrible nightmare. I wasn't crying in fear that I wouldn't live through the next day.
No. Instead, I was waking up from an eventless night in my leopard-print pajamas. I was contemplating whether I should hang out with Mark or not. I was smiling at the thought of his smile.
So when I stood up and looked in the mirror, I found myself bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Totally happy to be alone at the moment, I hummed as I dressed in combat pants and a pink tank top. Yes, pink. Usually I don't wear pink, but lately, I've decided to make an exception, because Mark said it looked really good on me. He's right, I thought as I roughly bloused my combats with a hair elastic. It complements my olive skin, and helps bring out my hazel eyes, which is hard to do, considering my eyes and skin are roughly the same color. I put some extra-strength gel in my short hair so it stood straight up and straightened out my excessively long bangs. It was a strangely opposite look from most people, who have their hair long and bangs short, but hey, look at what I was wearing. I'm just that kind of person. I do what I think looks good, and nobody can change my mind.
Again my thoughts wandered back to Mark, as I had known they would. It seemed like he was the only person I could think about lately. I smiled again, a ridiculous smile that would have made my skin crawl with disgust had I seen it on anyone else's face. It had to be a good sign. I loved Mark, I just had yet to say it. We had been going out about one month. One month since I first fell for his gorgeous black hair and charming smile. He was the sort of person that everyone likes, a natural athelete, even though he didn't play any sports. He wasn't the most popular guy though, don't get me wrong. He was always in the shadow of his friends who played a lot of hockey. You know that person everyone overlooks when they talk to the jocks? That's Mark. But at the beginning of the year, he walked up to me and just out of the blue asked me out. I considered it, and after much persuading on my friends' part, I said yes. After all, how could I resist those gorgeous glittering green eyes?
So maybe today I would hang out with him. We could go to a movie, then maybe for a romantic walk on the beach… I shook the thought from my head. Man, I was becoming more of a ditz each day. The beach? Get real, Cassidy. You hate the beach.
I sighed and took one last look in the mirror. Deciding that I wasn't looking like too much of a beast, I walked out into the kitchen for breakfast. Glancing into the living room, I saw my mother on the couch in a robe. An empty tub of iced cream lay on the carpet with a metal spoon poking out, alongside several various alcoholic drinks. No beer though, my mother had far too much class to drink beer. There were used Kleenexes all over the floor and the couch, and her eyes were red and puffy.
"Mom, do you want some breakfast?" I asked politely. Mom was always a sticker for manners.
"I'll come make some myself," she said, speech slightly slurred. She must have been up all night.
"Really mom, it's okay. I'll make you breakfast. Do you want eggs? Cereal? Toast? Don't get up." She tried anyway, and fell back onto the couch.
"No honey, I should be making you breakfast, not the other way around. The parent takes care of the child." I sighed, I wasn't winning this one.
"I'm not very hungry anyway, I'll just have an apple." I grabbed one out of the dish on the counter and went to my room before she could protest.
Most kids would hate their parents for drinking. Most kids would get frustrated with their parent's binges, trying to get out of the house as soon as possible. That's what my sister did. As soon mom started drinking, Amber moved across the country, hoping to be out of my mother's reach as soon as possible. Then again, Amber was really only my half-sister. She didn't feel responsible for my mother's sorrow the way I did.
See, about two months ago, my dad just walked out on my mom for no apparent reason. One night they were kissing and hugging and happy, the next my dad walked in with another woman on his arm, saying it couldn't possibly have worked between them. He left that night, and I cried. Shortly after, Amber also left, and I was stuck in this cycle of trying to help and being refused. After a while I found small ways to help, such as slipping money into my mother's purse when she was 'impaired', or doing all the chores while she was out. I got a job coaching gymnastics at the club. It paid about sixty bucks a week. Things like that, in hope that soon she would get over my father. He was a jerk. End of story, get over it mom. But I had to be there for her, because through thick and thin, she had always been there for me.
And now I sat in my room, listening to the faint clanking of dishes as mother attempted to make her own breakfast and eating an apple. Then, and only then, did something revolutionary happen. Such a small event, that someone would hardly think to describe it as a huge turning point in their life. Someone other than me, because at that moment, the phone rang.
