If Only We Could Be Us

I was standing in a backyard that looked like one in a fairytale. There were small bushes of pink roses curling around a faded white picket fence. Hanging under a large willow tree was a tire swing that swayed back and forth as the wind blew.

“Mommy!” a small boy yelled as he ran outside.

That’s me. Or that was me when I was only about six years old.

“Look what I can do!” The smaller version of me yelled as he transformed into a small baby jaguar with huge blue eyes. He ran over to the tire swing and jumped through it like an animal at a circus would. He transformed back and screamed ta-da.

My mother clapped and giggled, that is, until a very a very muscular man with a nice looking suit on threw open the back door and came running outside.

“Munro! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled as he ran over and grabbed the little boys arm, “I told you never to fucking shift again! I don’t want a mutant freak as a child!”

“George, please, calm down, he was just doing a trick. I promise he won’t shift again,” my mother assured.

“Too late.” My dad pulled the younger me into the small house. He dragged him into a basement and locked the only way out. My mom banged on the door and yelled for him to leave little Munro alone, but he just ignored her.

The child was thrown across the room and hit a wall causing contents to fall off of a shelf and land on him.

“Daddy!” he cried, “It hurts! Please stop.”

“This is your fault. If you weren’t born like this, than I wouldn’t have to do this.” It pains me to call this man my father.

The next thing I know, he walks up to Munro jr and pushes him to the floor. He starts to kick him until blood is pouring out from the newly formed wounds. He slows down and he speaks.

“Shift. I want you to shift right now. Don’t you dare argue with me, just do it.”

“But da-”

“I said shift you dumb ass!”

He slowly got up off of the floor and started to change into his animal form. About mid-shift, the beating started up again. This time it was much more violent.

At first, he just punched him the face, but suddenly, the jack ass stopped. He took off his son’s shirt and belt. He threw the shirt to the side, but used the belt to tie him up to a water pipe.

“Please! No!”

“I will do anything I can to make you a normal kid and not a freak of nature. If I have to train you to stop, then I will.”

The monster pulled off his own belt and started to whip it against his sons back. There were many attempted cries for help, but no one came to his rescue. A dark crimson substance started to poor down and refused to stop. The whipping seemed to go on forever, until finally it ended. George finally untied mini me, and gave him one final punch the face. The last thing I saw before I woke up was the smaller version of me falling to the ground, unconscious.

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My eyes shot open. It was bad enough living through that happening to me, but now it has to haunt my dreams too? I try to sit up, but quickly discover that I can’t. There were two large arms holding me down. I turn my head and inches away from my face was a sleeping Shayne.

Wow. I thought he was gorgeous when he was awake.

I didn’t want to wake him, so instead I just pried his arms off of me and slowly got up. Apparently all of the higher clans had individual bathrooms connected to their bedrooms, so I decided to use Shayne’s.

I open the door and step in. There was no point in locking it considering that I’m not even going to be in here for more than a few minutes.

I walk up to the huge mirror that was hanging above the sink and took off my shirt. Slowly, I turn around and examine my back. There is over six large marks on my back that are colored slightly lighter than the rest of my skin. I still remember the pain from that night. That wasn’t even the worst beating he ever gave to me. One time, he took a knife and cut open my arm. I had to get seven stitches that night. Thankfully, the doctors didn’t ask too many questions about it. Most of my scars have faded by now just like photographs fade, but I don’t think the ones on my back will ever leave.

As I continuously examine my body, I hear three short knocks on the bathroom door. I was about to tell whoever knocked that I would be done in a minute, but before I could the door opened and Shayne stepped in.