A/N: This is another prequel bit to "From Alley to House," and a follow up to "The Day Zaphia Changed." This brings Zaph pretty close to the opening of FAtH.
On the plus side, I've always been more of a night person anyway.
Sleep during the day, travel at night. For weeks that's been the only clear idea in my head. Everything is a blur, everything is strange and confusing.
The only thing I'm sure of right now is I can't let anyone see me.
So I sleep, hidden as well as can be. When the sun sets, I run again.
Those first few days were so hazy. I just ran until I collapsed of exhaustion, then got up and ran again as soon as I awoke. It was hard to run…my legs seemed strange to me. More times than I'd like to admit, I fell flat on my face.
But I got up again, ran again. Running through the pain until I was numb. When the burning finally turned into numbness I had some relief. I could ignore the confusing mish-mash of scents I kept picking up from a nose that was too sensitive for my brain to figure out. I could ignore the sensations of ears and a tail that shifted and moved of their own accord.
The best was when I finally stopped to rest at dawn. At first I'd wedge myself into a tre, then as I left the woods I'd curl up in the long grassy ditches beside the highway. I trusted the prairie grass to hide me.
When I sleep I can pretend I'm not a monster.
At first I ran blindly, just trying to get as far away from people as possible. Once the first rush of panic was over I changed my mind- I need to be around people to get food. There's almost nothing in a prairie wasteland to feed on. But I won't go back…a rural population will be the worst thing. And my parents…
I need to keep going.
So now I'm following the highways, trying to stick to the more rural roads, only traveling at night. I'm driven mostly by whim, going wherever I feel myself pulled, hoping to find a city big enough to hide in.
With disgust I eat the only thing I could find tonight in the fields. I want to throw up, but I can't…I need the strength to keep running. I need to eat.
Catching mice is easy enough, it turns out. Eating them…that's another story.
Once it's safely down I cry myself to sleep, chewing on grass to try and get the taste out.
Finally, I've found civilization again. I'd much rather eat garbage than field mice and raw soybeans like I have been.
I wait until nightfall to slip into town. Slowly I creep along the alleyways, trying to figure out what are the least populated areas. Someplace I can hide until I have a plan and have the least chance of being spotted. Finally my nose is starting to come in handy…I can smell the people after they're gone, and I can find an alley that seems to be very rarely visited by anyone. This is where I'll stay for now.
Of course, living next to a dumpster makes a sensitive nose a bit of a curse. It's not all roses after all.
A wooden crate is my home now. Rough wood, always slightly damp, presses against me. The prairies weren't much better, but at least they weren't semi-permanent.
As I scrape my skin for the millionth time through the holes in my jeans, I realize I need a change in wardrobe. These clothes are shot. They're also rather bloody, which makes them rather offensive to my new sense of smell.
I've only been in the city a few days but already I'm searching out a place to steal from. Nothing much…just a change of clothes and some food is all I want. I spend a night or so watching a likely place, trying to talk myself into taking the risk of being seen. With a giggle I realize that I'm now an aspiring cat-burglar.
Lack of food must be making me light-headed.
My timing is good- there's no moon tonight. At four in the morning there's not much going on, nobody wandering by to spot me. I wrap a large chunk of concrete in a towel and punch through the glass of the display window.
No alarms. Trusting souls who own this place. Or they have silent alarms…
No time to lose, I slip inside. My main goal was right in front- clothes. With desperation I snatch up anything black I can find. I don't just need a change in laundry, I need something that will help me hide myself. The most important thing is to keep hidden. After grabbing a few sets of shirts, pants, socks etc I move to the back, keeping my ears perked for sirens or people.
There's no chance of something to eat here, but there is a cash register. I'm almost about to spring it open, when…something stops me.
I remember watching the couple locking up tonight. They had their little girl with them. While I watched crouching on a rooftop, they patted her on the head affectionately before walking home. They didn't seem to have a car. There clothes were clean, but a bit old. I recognize the signs of a second-hand store from plenty of experience of my own. But I did it in protest…I think they did it out of need. Odd, considering they own a clothing shop…
Can they really not afford to give their child new clothes out of their own store?
There's a pang in my stomach. I look at the register again. Money wouldn't do you any good anyway I reason with myself. Not like you can walk into a pizza joint and order an extra large with everything but anchovies.
I back away from the register. I'm just being practical…no reason to take what you can't use.
I'm very careful of the broken glass as I creep back out of the window. Deftly I jump back through and head to a dark corner, changing my clothes quickly. Soon I'm all in black, to match my black tail and head-fur. They even had black sneakers in the store…now all of me that is visible is a white face and hands. It should be easier to hide now.
So easy to hide in fact that all I have to do is draw back a bit as a pair of young men walks by. They don't see me. They're looking at the broken store window. With a grin, one nods his head in that direction, and they start to make their way in.
The fur on the back of my neck goes up.
They patted her on the head, and smiled. The mother's shoes were so shabby looking.
Before I realize what I'm doing I've picked up a chunk of garbage and flung it at the two men entering the store. "Get away from there! I'm calling the cops!" I cry out, and they flee. They don't even look at me. Lucky for me- that was an incredibly stupid move on my part.
I hear sirens. Maybe somebody else called it in.
Quickly I run away, ditching my clothes in a dumpster as soon as I've gotten a safe distance. It isn't long after that before I've curled up in the crate I'm making my home, until I can come up with a plan.
Strange feelings inside me, ones I'm not used to. Good, bad…mostly confusing. Good that I helped them, confusing that I felt I needed to. Not that I'm a crook by nature, but…why take the risk?
They patted her on the head. They smiled. They seemed to love each other.
I can't stifle the groan rising out of me as I realize what's happening. While I've been sitting here sorting out my thoughts I've been rubbing at my ears again. For some reason I've taken up doing that at night, when I'm confused or upset.
They patted her on the head. I was desperate for that to be me. They smiled, they loved each other despite the shabby clothes and no car, despite the run-down store they couldn't afford to take from…and I loved them for it. And wanted more than anything to be part of it…to be patted, and loved, and talked nice to, and fed and…
I think I'm turning into a housecat.
With a tear I look at my hands, flexing them so the claws come out. At first I thought I was just some weird animal. Then I thought, maybe I'm part panther or something with the black fur. The truth is dawning on me as these cravings are getting stronger.
My mother said if I was Angel, I'm not now. She was right. Angel didn't want to be held and sweet-talked. So who am I?
"Fluffy" I say out loud, laughing to myself. "Kitty. Puff." With a pensive frown I try to remember the musical I watched on tape with Suzanna so long ago. "Electra, Demeter"…I can't remember any others.
Hmm…there's always that old screen name of mine. A name I thought at the time I'd made up all on my own, because it seemed like a neat combination. Later I found out it actually was a name, although a rare one. I had of course dropped it's use immediately. Didn't want my pseudonym to be a real name. But it would do for now.
"Zaphia…" I whisper to myself, trying it on for size.