Seasons Change

"You are nothing but a worthless piece of shit." My momma's voice is full of venom as the words come spewing out her throat and into the vulnerable place in my heart. My momma is usually a very kind lady, never speaks an unkind word about anyone, never curses, and she never hit her child. She sits on the couch, her head in her hands, trying to take in what a freak her one and only son is. "I want you out."

"Out? Momma, what are ya talkin' about? Please, just talk to me!" Tears pour out of my eyes and down my cheeks, matching my momma. I could now see that my momma and I are more different than I had ever noticed before. Her skin is pale, her eyes are deep green, and her hair is as black as midnight. Just like my dad. For years, my father thought I wasn't his, but after a DNA test, they proved I am their child and that I might just have some recessive genes.

"You are a fucking freak and I can't have you in my house." She sighs and lets more tears escape from the corners of her eyes. I know what she wants, but I can't even process the thought of her wanting me to leave. Just because of something that I can't control.

"I cain't control it, Momma!" I plea, but it's obviously not enough. She shakes her head and raises the object that had been sitting on her lap. I am well aware she had the object on her lap, I saw the odd shape when I came down stairs to talk to her. Now as she holds up the object and points it at me, I quickly realize it's a hand gun. I gulp and get on my feet as quickly as I can, back slowly out of the living room as I can.

"God must hate me," she says as she runs her hand over the top of the gun, her voice as calm as if she was talking to her friends about flowers or cooking. She looks at me, but doesn't look me in the eye. She stands then and points the gun at me and steps casually forward. "If he gave me a son like you, he hates me."

"Momma, I didn't do nothin'!" I make my way into the hallway and to the front door. I raise my right hand, the left struggling to turn the door knob. When it finally turns, I pull the door open and put my back to the cold night air. I raise my left hand now, trying to show Momma that I mean no harm. She cocks the gun, her finger on the trigger.

"Leave, now. You're still my little boy and I really don't want to put this bullet in your head, but I will if I have to." She's trembling now as she raises the gun and points it at my head. This isn't the woman I know. It's terrifying, but I know that these are the last words I will ever hear Momma say to me. I want cry even more than I already am.

"I loved you, Momma," I mutter as I turn and run out into the cool night air. I run as fast as I can, heading toward the forest, rather than the gravel road. The tall, un-mowed farm grass comes up to my waist but I don't let it bother me. I can hear every sound out here- the crickets, the breeze, even some of the animals. When I finally reach the tree line, I realize I've run much faster and farther than I'd ever considered I could. I take one last look at the small farm house on the small farm. I look away, knowing that this small town in Iowa will never be the same for me.

I enter the woods and I can already feel the animals around me. They're scared and sad, but not because a human is in their territory at this time of night. It's because I'm scared and alone and they feel sorry for me. I decide I can't stop now, I have to keep going. I run for maybe another two hours. I run through fields, more forests, and even through two really small towns. I'm only two town away from home, but I need to rest now. I don't have anything on me -watch, money, phone- just the clothes on my back. I'm not even sure what time it is.

I sit down on the side of the road. I'm tired, tears still streaming down my cheeks, and my legs hurt from all the running. My heart is pounding and my breathing is all shaky. I try to keep my eyes open because I know the minute I close them, I will fall asleep. Suddenly, I hear a car stop a few feet in front of me. I need to run, I think, but my legs won't let it happen. I hear the car door open and shut and then some foot steps. I look up and see a man that is maybe in his thirties. He's tall, muscular. He's wearing jeans and a tee shirt, his dark hair is short and he has chin stubble. His eye are blue, like mine, so I feel a little calmer.

"What are you doing out here at this time of night?" He asks, his country accent thicker than mine.

"I could be asking you the same question." I scoff, getting to my feet. I'm tall, but this man at least six inches taller than me. I feel like a child. Then again, I'm only fifteen.

"I was just at my girlfriends all night," he blushes. "She won't let me stay the night yet."

"Oh," I try to hide my smile, but it's impossible. He just got rejected and I'm laughing? What kind of person does that? Maybe it's because I was rejected worse than he was- I was rejected by my family. I don't know why, but I decide to tell the truth about why I'm out here. "I got kicked out of my place."

He bites his lip. "Look, I don't mean to sound creepy, but I have an extra room in my apartment. You can stay the night, if you want?"

I think this over. This man could be a rapist. He could be a murderer. A devil worshiper. Maybe all three, but I figure a nice bed is worth whatever bullshit he gives me. If he even is a murderer, I grudgingly accept death. Without a family, I really don't have a life worth living, do I? "Why not."



"It's not much," he says as he opens the door to his apartment. Tyler -as he told me his name was- is a kind guy. We didn't talk much on the ride here -actually, I didn't talk much during the ride here, Tyler just chatted away about his girlfriend- but I somehow know he can be trusted. "But, it's all I can afford."

"Thank you so much. I promise I'll be out by morning." I smile at him. It's nice to know that some people still have some humanity. He points in the direction of my room for the night and to the bathroom. I thank him and rush to the bathroom. After I take a quick piss, I look myself over in the mirror. I'm tall and lanky, though I'm getting more muscular everyday- without even trying. My hair is a dirty blond and my eyes are an electric blue. My tan skin is usually perfect, but my arms and legs are lined with cuts. I wash my wounds and my face, trying to get some of the mud stains out of my shorts and shirt, but it was a failed attempt. Once I stopped with my clothes I took a quick shower, got dressed, and headed to the room Tyler had given me for the night.

Tyler is in the room, putting sheets and stuff on the bed. I want to tell him that I won't need it, that I will be alright, but he seems to notice my discomfort and he shakes his head in reply to it. He smiles at me, a genuine smile. When he's finished, he walks toward the doorway where I'm standing and gives me a high five. "It's no problem taking you in for the night. I got kicked out when I was younger... I just hope I'm helping you some what."

"Trust me, you have." With that, Tyler leaves the room. He leaves without a goodnight. It's guy stuff like that that makes me happy. I smile and climb into the bed- and that's when it hits me. I've felt this way before, the first time it happened, but then the need had been so much stronger. I feel as if bugs are crawling all over my skin or maybe it's my skin that's doing the crawling. I feel uncomfortable in my own body and I need a new one. I close my eyes and let the Shift happen.

First, I feel my eyes decreasing in size and my pupils shifting into slit. My skin erupts in fur, my spine twisting and my tail bone breaking out of my body and transforming itself into a tail. Now, my body starts shrinking and I get on all fours, letting the Shift control me physically until it's done. I know feel my senses getting better, my sense of smell, my hearing. Some colors in the room melt away into grayness while others brighten and mix into colors I've never seen before. I trot over to one side of the bed, taking a leap over to the dresser and sit in front of the small mirror, looking into it.

The fur on my body is white, my paws are a light black as well are my ears. The fur around my black nose is black and the fur around that is sort of tan. My electric blue eyes are the only thing that even resembles anything human about me. I look exactly like Andy, my Birman cat. I leap back to the bed, wiggling my cat body under the blanket and curling into a half circle like most cats do. Satisfied, I close my eyes and let sleep course through my veins until I finally fall into it's blackness.