So Sacrifice Yourself, and Let Me Have What's Left

To most people, moving can be a good thing, or a bad experience. It could either mean that the destination you’re heading towards is going to lead you a wealthier and plentiful life, or it could mean that you were forcefully taken away from what you once knew as a normal and happy life.

This concerns adults, where as I, an adolescent youth, sees moving as a disaster. The ones who raised me saw our move as going down a road to a better life, but I saw it much differently. My sisters did not care much because they are the complete opposite of me. They have nothing to worry about when it comes to adapting to a new environment, but when it comes to me, adapting is just as worse as being stuck in the fiery depths of hell.

Although, in my case, I really shouldn’t say that, considering that, when my time comes, I will spend eternity in the deepest and darkest pits of hell where I belong—with my grandfather.

I remember when the man who raised me, Devin, came into the house I was raised in, a huge grin spread across his face. He began to talk of things mentioning a promotion, and he said the word ‘California’ a few times. The woman who raised me, Cynthia, cheered for joy and happily jumped from the dark green couch placed in the middle of our living room to wrap her tiny arms around Devin’s neck, congratulating her husband on what happened. My sisters, Danielle and Leana, who are the biological children of the people who raised me, rushed over to engulf their father in a hug as well.

I, however, did not congratulate Devin by touching him. I stayed put, nibbling on a ham and cheese sandwich in the kitchen, knowing my place. Nothing has been the same since Cynthia became pregnant with Leana. Devin and Cynthia had tried to have children before, but each time poor Cynthia would miscarriage. That’s why they took me when I was only hours old and abandoned on their front porch. When I was two, Cynthia found out the, in her case, glorious news that she was with child. Being part werewolf, Leana aged faster than I, and now, if you didn’t know our secret, you would think that Leana was older than I.

I don’t think that the people who raised me intended to ignore me, for I was at the point in my years to where I could make a sandwich and knew where the glasses and water were so I could have a drink, and I could also know how to dress myself, despite the fact that a few things I wore were a bit mismatched like most children’s clothes my age, considering it was the phase that we felt the need to act older and do things for ourselves. But, no matter how independent we try to be, we still need the nurturing and love the ones who raise us are able to give.

I do not blame the ones who raised me for not giving me their attention, however. I understand that they were given the gift that they had wanted for so long to receive, so I knew, being as mentally old as I was, that they were going to forget the child that popped on their front porch one rainy night.

It was after Leana was born that I began to see the differences in my physical features and the ones in the people who raised me. I could see Leana’s dark brown hair root up from her scalp, and her brown eyes sparkled with youth. This made me question why I looked the way I did, with my chocolate brown hair and my large green eyes that were dull at times, and had a slight glisten to them all the other times.

I confronted my parents—which is what I used to call them—about these differences after I noticed not just Leana’s, but in the one’s who raised me differences as well. I looked nothing like them, with Cynthia’s sandy blonde hair and Devin’s dark brown hair, and Cynthia’s dark brown eyes and Devin’s light blue eyes. Cynthia and Devin looked at each other, their eyes full of concern. It was at that moment that I realized it—I was not theirs. Even though the way my body was shaped I looked to be two or three, but my mind was full of wisdom and knowledge, meaning I understood what was going on around me perfectly. I screamed and hollered at them for lieing to me, and that they could go to the deepest layer of hell for all I cared, which was odd hearing that from a high pitched toddler’s voice. Cynthia was speechless, her mouth gaped open, while Devin was trying to calm me down. None of that worked, though. With tears swelling my eyes, blurring my vision a bit, I stormed up the stairs and slammed the door behind me as I entered my room. Letting out cries and sobs, I buried my head into my pillow.

Nothing has ever been the same between us since.

The ones who raised me continued to let me live with them, considering they still thought of me as their child and would continue to raise me as such. They did, however, not treat me the same way they treated Leana and my other sister, Danielle. I was always the envious one over my sisters—who now looked older than I—because they got to have Cynthia and Devin’s love and care, while I was just the girl that looked nothing like them, wasn’t apart of their family, and I just happened to get lucky that rainy night that I was born for them to let me in.

I leaned against the counter in the kitchen as I took the last bite of my ham and cheese sandwich, eyeing my family that wasn’t blood nor that I cared about. Danielle, Leana, and Cynthia had stopped hugging Devin to ask him about his promotion. Devin was telling them that the promotion included a much higher paycheck than what he was receiving now, much to Leana’s delight. She had always been spoiled rotten, thanks to the fact that she was Devin and Cynthia’s first child, excluding me of course. Cynthia asked him what he meant by when he said ‘California’, and Devin’s smile widened.

“My promotion means that I’m getting transferred.” He stated. “And they’re going to pay our entire moving fees so we can get on our way to Huntington Beach, California in a matter of days.”

Danielle, Leana, and Cynthia once again, not able to contain themselves, cheered for joy and engulfed Devin in another hug. I, however, stayed where I was. The last thing I wanted was to be separated from the only home I’ve ever known, despite the fact that I almost hated the people who I had to live with. Most people wouldn’t want to move because of losing their friends, but I had none. I was a loner, and didn’t mind that one bit. The thought of having friends sickened me, because they seemed like a waste of time and would only use you to make themselves feel better by betraying you in every way possible.

The only reason why I wanted to stay is because I’ve finally gotten used to this place of McKinley, Illinois. I was used to the cold winters and the snow, and now I was going to have to leave that for hot, beach clad, bikini wearing, orange bodies, white haired California. I hated the thought of it, and I knew that I would never, no matter how hard I tried, fit in.

“Isn’t this wonderful, Candace?” Cynthia asked, looking at me through the living room to the kitchen.

I was surprised she even remembered that I was standing not twenty feet away from her. “Yeah, peachy.” I mumbled.

“When do we leave?” Leana asked, not even glancing at while Cynthia was talking to me for those two seconds.

“Whenever we’re ready,” Devin shrugged.

I have never seen three women pack that quickly. In the blink of an eye, Leana, Danielle, and Cynthia were running up the stairs frantically, throwing random things into random suitcases. I really hoped none of them touched anything in my room. I would like to pack my own things for the time being, thank you.

As much as I dreaded the thought of moving, I had to admit, it was better than being stuck in one place for my entire life and eventually rot into the very same ground I was born on. I began to think that perhaps it won’t be as bad as I think. One of the only reasons why I don’t have any friends is because I’m different, and no one here can accept that. Perhaps California will accept that, although, from the pictures I’ve seen, I highly doubt that.

--

I leaned my head against the car window, my vision blurring to where I could only see the yellow strips on the road as they quickly rushed by. I was thankful that I was in the car with Devin, and not with Cynthia, Leana, and Danielle. I knew that I would be ready to blow my brains out if I was put in the same car as them. One good thing about Devin, he didn’t like talking. I thought that perhaps I had jumped to conclusions and that they were truly my biological parents, because Devin and I were almost the same. But then I saw my reflection in the car mirror, saw my facial features, and I knew that Devin and Cynthia being my parents was a bold faced lie.

“So how do you feel about the move?” Devin asked randomly.

I lifted my slender shoulders up and down in a shrug. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

Devin nodded, ending the conversation there. I knew I shouldn’t have said that, but that’s how I’ve been since the day I started talking. I would always say things without thinking, not caring if they hurt anyone’s feelings or not. I could tell Devin didn’t want to hear that, but it was the truth. I wasn’t going to complain about something I couldn’t change.

“I think you’ll like our new house.” Devin tried again. “It’s much bigger than our old one, and you can have the third floor room, if you want.”

“What’s so special about it?” I asked with no emotion in my voice, as usual.

“The entire third floor is dedicated to it, for one.” He started. “It was intended to be the master bedroom, but I thought that it would be more suited for someone like you.”

I knew he didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but I knew what he was thinking. Someone like me—someone that they don’t want anything to do with, and someone that they would rather see only once a day instead of having that someone hovering over them every chance they got, which wasn’t likely, considering I’m someone like me. “Thanks.” Was all I said; it was all I needed to say.

Devin didn’t say anything, and kept his eyes on the road. It was silent for a few minutes. We were already in Nevada, and only thirty or forty minutes away from entering the state of California on this crystal clear day of August fourth, the year two thousand. It was odd watching the skies turn from a dark blue color, signaling yet another thunderstorm as we left McKinley, and watch that dark blue change to a light blue color without one cloud in sight. I suppose I should start getting used to that.

“You’re not going to the same school as Danielle.” Devin said, causing my brows to furrow.

“Why not?” I asked, looking from out the window to him.

“The school Danielle’s going to is for werepeople.” Devin said, heaving his broad shoulders up and down in a shrug. “And I think that, if you went, they would catch on pretty quickly by how slowly you age compared to all of the others.”

I nodded, not needing to hear more. It had occurred to Devin and Cynthia that I was not a regular human when they received me. I did not age by human years or dog years. I aged fairly slowly, every ten or twenty years or so. Devin and Cynthia didn’t mind, thinking that I was an unknown species. It never once occurred to them of who my real father could’ve truly been. My aging process may have not bothered Devin and Cynthia, but I hated it. I hated not being like them. They treated me differently because of it, despite the fact that it did not bother them when they discovered that I was going to be around just as long as they were. They were used to how rapidly werewolves aged, so of course they thought I was some kind of a dud; a species that did not grow as quickly, including their mind capacity. But, despite what they thought, I was more of a genius than all of them. My mind worked in wondrous ways. I saw things differently, meaning that none of my family that isn’t a family understood the way I talked or presented myself, which got quite annoying at times.

“You’ll be going to a regular school.” Devin said, interrupting my thoughts. “Cynthia and I have already enrolled you. So, on Monday, you’ll start your first day of school as a student at Liberty High School.”

I nodded, not saying anything. The name of the school itself just screamed wealth, meaning none of the other kids would understand me, as they usually didn’t. I continued to look out the window, staring at the various cacti bushes we passed. It’s strange that when you’re in a car, no matter how fast you’re going, you can see things and observe them long enough to understand what they were and what their purpose was on that particular hunk of soil. Although, I don’t think others would go into such detail. It was just my way of thinking, once again, and no one would understand completely of what I was saying, once again.

Devin’s cell phone started beeping, and he put the phone to his ear after the fourth beep. “Hello?” he asked. He paused for a moment, and I could hear the faint voice of a female’s coming from the phone. “I think I can see the state line up ahead.” He paused. “Then it’ll be another hour or so.” He paused, and I could see the line he was talking about, although it wasn’t really a line, it was a large green square with white writing on it. I could barely see what was written on it. It said something about California, something about the sun, and the word ‘Hollywood’ was written on the top of it.

Once we passed it, I didn’t look at it. I didn’t want to, considering what that sign meant. It meant that we were now over a thousand miles away from the one home I’ve only known, and that nothing was going to be the same again. A few things would stay the same. I would still be the quiet loner that didn’t have any friends, and that was fine with me. I didn’t want any friends like the ones that lived in California. They didn’t intimidate me or scare me, they made me hate them. I wanted them all dead, and I wanted the state itself to burn into the ocean that it was so elegantly placed upon.

I was stuck in the cramped, sea green, shiny, new, business-owned Hyundai car with Devin for another hour or so as we drove through California. It wasn’t as bad as I expected, to tell the truth. The Pacific Ocean was a light blue color against the white sand, and then it would fade out into a dark blue as it expanded out further into the unknown. The houses were nice, some more expensive looking than others, but other than that they weren’t dreary and depressing like most of them back in McKinley. The people looked just as I expected, which wasn’t much of a surprise, but they weren’t as bad as I was dreading, and some of them looked nice. Well, they looked nice from afar, but I knew that the minute they got a good look at me their smiles would fade into both disapproving and misunderstanding expressions upon their sun kissed faces.

“Alright, here we are.” Devin said, a grin spreading across his face, as he pulled into a driveway that led up into a three story house.

I stared in both awe and shock at the house. It was beautiful, and had an old world charm to it. A balcony was placed on the third floor that looked out into the backyard, where the view was probably the forest that the backyard led into. Vines were draped all over one wall, which they wrapped themselves on a white ladder that covered the entire wall, making it easy for someone to climb up onto. A large dome greenhouse was expanding itself out of the wall, where the green vines only barely covered it. The porch only expanded out the front wall, but it was still big enough to fit ten or fifteen people. The majority of the house was brick, but the roof was a dark blue tile that looked as hard and rough as sandpaper. There was a white picket fence outlining the entire house, but the white had faded over time, thanks to there being a large oak tree standing proudly in the front yard.

I could never believe that someone like Devin or Cynthia picked out such a beautiful house. If it was beautiful to me, then it normally would’ve been demonic to them.

“Do you like it?” Devin asked, looking at my gaped mouth and my wide eyes, a smirk of satisfaction playing on his face. He knew that he had made the right choice about this house, but he wanted to hear what he already knew escape from my lips.

However, the striking beauty of this house made me speechless. All I could do was nod, my eyes never leaving the house.

Devin’s smirk turned into a smile. “Great, now how about you come out and look at it from a closer view?”

I turned to see what he meant by that, and I could already see Cynthia, Leana, and Danielle already out of their car and admiring the house. Cynthia was already walking up the porch, with her two daughters close behind. I figured that it would be best to follow them. I opened my side of the car door and stepped out. The house was even more beautiful without looking at it through a window, if that was possible. There was something about this house that made it mysterious, as if it had been standing here since the beginning of time.

Devin held the white gate door open for me as I walked through it. He walked behind me as I continued to stare up at the proud house standing before me. I looked at the houses to my left, then to my right before walking in. None of them were as striking as this one, which was odd. Most neighborhood houses all look the same, which this particular neighborhood managed to do, except for this one.

“This house has been here longer than all of the others.” Devin said, as if he read my thoughts. He did that many times, but it never occurred to me that mind reading could be his special ability that all werewolves are given once they go through the Change. “They built this entire neighborhood around this house. They said that there was just something about it that they just couldn’t tear down. They have made renovations, though, to make it more modern to our world.”

I understood what he meant, and nodded, walking through one of the huge wooden double doors that were carved remarkably, almost as if by hand, which I wouldn’t doubt if that was the truth.

While Cynthia, Leana, and Danielle were running through the entire house, exclaiming and cheering of how huge it was, I was examining its beauty. The first floor was dedicated to the living room, dining room, kitchen, and laundry room. Although I couldn’t see anything other than the living room, I basically used common sense to figure the other essential rooms were on the first floor as well. The living room was stripped bare of furniture, but it was remarkable nonetheless. The wood paneling on the ceilings made it seem almost palace like, and the wooden floor was a smooth, shiny, dark brown color that made sock skating seem like a good idea in this house. I smiled slightly at the thought, and continued to search the living room. The fireplace was enormous, and I wasn’t sure if it was entirely safe, but I’m sure that whoever made it didn’t mind the heat. The outlining was carved in such a tender and intimate way that it just had to be done by hand, and the inside was so perfectly covered by bricks that it was almost a shame that the heat from the flame and the ashes had to take away the burgundy and other deep shades of reds that the bricks were made of.

This house was just too perfect, there had to be something wrong with it.

“This place was made back in the Gold Rush days.” Devin said, his rough fingertips running across the white lining that separated the white top of the walls with the beige bottom of the walls. “A very wealthy man from New York had this place made for his children while he and his men were off finding Gold.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked. It did seem odd that Devin knew the history of this house, considering he had never been one for historic places or just plain out history period.

“The landlord told me all of this when he gave me a tour. He thought that maybe that would convince me to buy this place. Although the minute I saw the backyard I knew that this was the house.” Devin said, smiling proudly.

“What’s the backyard like?” I asked, looking from the fireplace to Devin.

Devin nodded through the dining room area, and I could see a large window that was used as a door looking out into the green grass that made up the backyard. “Go look for yourself.” He said.

I walked away from the fireplace and Devin, out the living room, through the dining room, and opened the glass door gently. No matter how tiny my figure was, I was unbelievably strong. It was a good thing I didn’t have a short temper, or else this whole world would’ve been burned to the ground by now with my mind abilities that could manipulate people and my strength to make them fear me and do everything I told them.

I was expecting the same white fence that outlined the front yard, but there was something different. The white fence ran through a tree on both sides the fence went on. I guessed that perhaps the tree grew into the fence over time, and now it looked like the trees were decorations. The backyard looked into a dark forest that I feared for some reason. Only a few yards were visible of trees cramped together, from there on was anyone’s guess. I could tell why Devin liked it. He was a werewolf, and, like all werewolves, the forest was his home, and I could tell there was probably hundreds upon hundreds of wildlife that fed off of the ground and trees, causing their bellies to grow. In other words, Devin would be able to hunt all he wanted in that forest.

My five senses had always been slightly better than everyone else’s for as long as I could remember. I could smell things—preferably food—a good distance away. My sight was incredible—I would never need glasses for reading anytime soon. If I was blind, I wouldn’t need a cane or a dog to walk me around. I would always know what things were by touching them, whether it be the smooth texture of rock or the warmth of flesh. If a plate of unknown food was placed in front of me, I could taste it, and tell you the entire history of that food—origin, pan it was made in, spices, ingredients, even the chef’s name, I could tell all from my taste. My hearing was the greatest of all, however, no matter how silent you tried to be, I would hear you miles away. Not even a cat could sneak its way past me or surprise me.

My hearing sense worked as it always did at that particular moment. I could hear the sliding of a door that went into a small slit in other opening, and I heard it close. I heard the harsh and loud footsteps of someone, probably a man, walking into another backyard, their shoes crushing leaves that they passed. Those footsteps stopped a few feet away from me, and I couldn’t help my curiosity. I looked over to my neighbor’s backyard, and my eyes widened.

Never before had I ever seen such a beautiful creature. His black hair shined against the warm California sun. He lacked a bit in height, but he made up for it in presence by standing proud and straight. His body was a bit scrawny, but it fit him. His plush pink lips pouted out of his milky white skin perfectly, almost as if they wanted another pair of lips to be pressed upon, and the piercings on both sides of his lower lip shined brightly, making his lips more desirable to kiss. His remarkable eyes were a jade green color, and they were staring right into my dull green eyes.

My body was turned to face him, as was his. We stared at each other, our eyes wandering down each others bodies, but once again met each other in the end. My breathing was uneven, which had never happened before, and I could hear his breath heavily escaping his lips. I could’ve stared at him forever, admiring his god-like features, and something told me that he could’ve done the same for me.

“Zacky, stop standing there like an idiot and get your ass back in here!” a voice chuckled from inside the house.

He turned to face the house, and took a step. “I’m coming!” he yelled, and my heart fluttered against my chest at the sound of his deep voice. He didn’t enter the house before taking one last look at me, while I was standing in the same spot, looking back at him. He blinked a few times, and then walked back into the house. I could hear men’s laughter and voices coming from inside the house.

I stayed right in the same spot, only a few feet away from the dark forest that my backyard led into, and could picture him in my mind over and over again. I couldn’t believe that someone like him ever existed, and that, hopefully, he was my next door neighbor. Maybe moving here wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Little did I know of the adventures that awaited me.