2. DIFFERENT
It had been two weeks since the incedent. I was supposed to be living with my grandmother at the time. But I couldn't stand living with her. She would alwaus tell me that I needed a real career instead of focussing on my "attractive-or-not voice". It always got on my nerves. The last time I viseted grams; she pushed me too far and I snapped. Leaving a broken fire place. I didn't know where the strength came from. No normal person would have ever been able to destroy a brick foundation with there bare hands. She called me the devil and had me sent out of her house. Although my mother had no clue this fight -and I use the term loosely- had ever occured between me and grams.
For all she knew I was in Georgia right this very second; listening to old time music and reading books that people my age wouldn't read. I guess I was an exception. I absolutely adored books. Especially the thick ones. That only meant more to read; made me even more curious.
Why would any one my age volunteer them selves to read a seven-hundred paged book? I shrugged my shoulders. That had been enough thought about how different I was for one day.
Two weeks... me, the side of the road, and my voice getting me by. To my surprise, my voice had raised me three-hundred dollars in the past two weeks. Even more tro think of how very different I really was. Actually; now that I think about it... I never really was normal. Not even as an infant. Before my father commited suicide, he had told me that he loved me. He didn't tell me in person though. I guess he didn't have the heart to say goodbye. Perhaps he was waiting for me to join him one day. Hoping that that last short goodbye wasn't necassary.
Although he didn't actually say a formal goodbye, he did leave me a back-pack. Filled with a home made video of my birth. Also a copy of my birth certificate and a video tape of my first words... only seven hours after my birth. I watched the tapes two years ago when I was fifteen. The first tape; my birth. I hadn't even cried. Not a smile even. No facial expression what so ever. The second tape; my first words. I watched it in horror. Affraid of why it was I was so intellegent. It wasn't normal for a child to talk at seven hours af age. And it deffinately wasn't normal for a sixteen year old girl to be able to break a fire place built with a solid brick foundation.
The last thing I looked at, was my birth certificate. It was the strangest thing ever; it hadn't even had a finger print. No foot print, no palms... nothing. There wasn't a trace of where I came from either.
Me and my mother looked as if we weren't even related. In fact; we were exact oppisties. My mother had dark long brown curly hair that hung down to her waist. She was a fair tan color. Her eyes were green, and there wasn't exactly anything special there.
Me on the other hand; I had short black hair. My skin was a darker tan color. It made me wonder if my dad had any Native-American in him. My eyes were a chocolate brown, and in just the right light, there was a hint of yellow. I had qualities about me though, that would deffinately be considered different. I healed... fast. For example; the day I sprang my knee and got scratches on my face, was the same day my knee healed and the scratches faded away. I was stronger than the average one-hundred and ten pound seventeen year old girl. No normal seventeen year old girl could break bricks with her bare hands. Every time I would lose my temper, my stregth would get the best of me and I always had to use karate as an excuse. The most special thing about me though; was that when there wasn't a moon, my eyes would turn almost purple. Though I never wanted to focus on what was wrong wih me. It made me feel different from every one else. Not that different was bad; just that kind of different.
If there was one thing that living on the side of the road has tought me; it's that being homeless is very overrated. People just have to know how to use what they have to make money. In my case... I had my voice.
I wrote my own songs and every time I sung them, people were in tears. They said that they never heard any thing so beautiful befor in there whole entire life. It always made me happy just to hear their compliment. But I couldn't survive off of compliments; I needed money. And that was no problem. Every song I sang earend me twenty-five dollars on average.
There was only one thing keeping me from my dream; I needed the right person to hear me. My voice has been compared to things from angelic, to miraculace. I just knew that if the right person heard my song I would make it. I just didn't know who to sang it to.
But there has only been one thing on my mind lately; and that's Eliot. I wondered if I would ever see him again. He was so different. Maybe even a little like me. Hopefully I'd see him again one day. And hopefully soon.
It was dark now... and I was starting to get hungry. So I decided to go to the local McDonalds. Thank God I had clean clothes still,or they wouldn't accept me there. I was walking slowly of course. Saving my energy for work... well... what little work I had.
Two hours of walking just to get to McDonalds. And no car in sight. Swinging my arms as I went, I tripped over my sholace. "stupid clutz" I whispered under my breath. And when I got up... there was a man staring at me from the end of the road.
He was just standing there, staring at me. He had long dark brown hair. He seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen. He was extremely tall for his age though. He deffinately could have passed for twenty-three. But I wasn't fooled by his height, or his muscles. I knew his real age. I could see it in his facial features. And there's a vibe that I get, telling maturaty. Just another of the wierd things about me.
"You look... different." The boy said. He started walking toward me. That's when I noticed that it was darker than usual. I looked up, and saw no moon. Great; that must mean...
"Your eyes... they're... purple?" His statement turned into a question. I nodded in agreement. Kind of scared as to why he was walking towards me, who he was, and what he wanted with me. And I started shaking. Not with fear; but with fury. He had no right to be walking toward me so... nonchalantly.
"You're shaking. Are you mad? Oh I am so scared now. The little girl is gonna hurt me. Ha! Take your best shot little girl." Was he... was he taunting me?
"Oh you are going to get it now boy! Just you watch I'm gonna tear you appa..." What was this? I was shaking violently. It felt like I was going to blow up.
"Oh really? Ha! As if a little girl could beat me up. You're so skrunny, I'd beat you to a pulp." He was shaking too now. But he didn't sound angry. He just sounded smug.
"Grrrrr!" I roared and then something happened. My whole entire body felt like it was on fire. And an explosion happened. My limbs grew bigger, furrier. I grew ears on the top of my head. My hands became paws as I turned into a werewolf.
I was growling and snarling. I took one bite at the bigger werewolf I thought to be the boy who was taunting me; before he turned the tables and had me pinned to the ground in less than a second.
Haha! Welcome back Fantasia. Oh my... I just heard his thoughts. And did he just call me Fantasia?
My name is not...
I managed to get that much out as I remebered so much. That video... it wasn't me. Another baby was born out of my mother. How was that possible? The no prints on my birth certificate; it was a fake. I was switched out seven hours later and that's when I said my first words. Wolf.
Ha. You're remembering aren't you? You know who I am sis. Come on Fantasia... you can do...
You idiot! Of course I remeber you Jacob! The last time I saw you was seven hours after my birth. When you switched me out.
Are you mad at me? It was silent for a moment. As we both fought not to think of anything.
How could I ever be mad at you? I love you my Jacob. My brother. I put my snout under his head. The best way I could think of to give him a hug. He let out a wimper.
love you too... my Fantasia.
Fantasia. That name you call me. Is that my real name? I asked in my head.
It was the name you were given at birth. It means...
Mystical and magical. I know. I planned to name my daughter that if I had one some day. Ha. I guess there's no need for that any more. I cut him off and we walked through the woods together.
We talked for hours. And he tought me how to hunt and I was finally full. He gave me imformation on my real family. My real dad's name was Billy. And I had a lot of family. I belonged to a pack now and Jacob was bringing me to meet the alpha, Sam, and the rest of the pack. Hopefully all was well.
I was a werewolf. Me... something so mystical and magical. I always knew I was different.
