I felt it the moment my foot passed over the threshold of the tree line. A foreboding presence; a tingle down my spine. They say that a tingle in your spine comes from someone walking on your grave. This one felt as though it were foretelling my journey there. I dug my teeth into my lower lip, but was without choice. The mountains were infested with tiny people, angry little guys who were not kind to trespassers. The only way I was getting around this mountain was through the forest at its base. My eyes darted to and fro with the urgency of a pet owner who can hear their animal about to vomit. I could hear no sounds to justify the stark terror simmering beneath my calm demeanor, and so ventured forth.
My feet seemed to find every twig on the forest floor, my shoulders tensing with each snap. Logic would suggest I was alone in this place, all the rumors in town led to few people daring to venture here. I was never one to go in for such rumors; ghosts are not real and I’ll not be stuck in that town for eternity fearing something that in all likelihood is not even there. Yet still my shoulders tensed. A rotten smell tickled my nostrils, seeming to emanate from the shriveled berries which were strewn everywhere, including beneath my feet. My eyes searched for the source and found plentiful bushes with bright red berries were plentiful. They dotted the space between each tree leaving little room for the sparse grass which dutifully poked up where it was allowed to.
My lips curled into a smile and my shoulders relaxed. Contrary to what I’d been told this place was actually quite beautiful. I left the path and pinched my fingers around one of the supple berries which hung from the bushes. It’s skin felt slightly waxy, and the branch held onto it with a degree of force one would not expect from an inanimate being. After several minutes I relinquished my claim on the fruit; it was not worth having an argument with a bush over. It was then that I noticed a distinct lack of bird chatter. If the shrubbery was that stingy with its spoils it made sense though. Stingy shrubbery aside this place was still bursting with life; it just appeared to all be plant based.
My demeanour id a complete one eighty as I returned to the path. I felt vindicated in my belief that the rest of my village were superstitious fools. I ventured deep into the woods, my previous concerns having been washed off like the days dirt. Darkness was decending before I realized that it was in fact I who was the fool.
“What do you think you’re doing here?!” The voice was both soft as a baby’s breath and harsh as a clarinet badly out of tune. “Are you here to steal my food?!” My pulse quickened, my stomach dropped, and my shoulders tensed all in the span on a single breath. All at once light seemed to leave the area as I searched for the keeper of the strange voice. Pleas for mercy died on my lips to be replaced instead by a quiet whimper. Where there had been nothing suddenly a large black pony emerged. His nostrils were flared wide like a predators maw, and somehow a lack of eyebrow did not preclude his ability to scowl. It was an unseasonably warm summer and yet somehow my skin became ice cold.
I struggled again to speak up but was thwarted again when the pony, flared nostrils and all, vanished in the span of a blink. “You think you can just come here, trample on my floor, you are so bold as to think you’ll get away with that?!” The voice was a thunderous growl and a simpering plea which was surrounding and suffocating me and yet a soft and comforting shroud all at once. It was everywhere, and it was nowhere. I whipped around as I felt hot breath on my neck. My heart stopped as I was suddenly face to face with the hulking frame of a grizzly bear. Yet his eyes met mine, and an intelligence I had never known bears to have was showcased. An understanding, of my fear, of my presence, o f my vulnerability. The most telling feature that this was not in fact a bear though, was the utter lack of fear as it loomed over me. I found myself unsurprised when a booming voice came from its throat. “Answer me!”
Finally a voice that was much higher and more whiney that my own answered this beasts questions. “Passing… through… I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” His voice took on a snide taunting tone. “Didn’t know? Didn’t mean to? A giant striding across the mountains doesn’t MEAN to crush villages beneath his clumsy feet… does that mean the decimation doesn’t matter? Fool… and yet I must eat something….” A smirk crossed his face, which looked less like a bears and more like a foxes now that I got a good look at it. Only it HAD been a bears, but was now much lower to the ground and etched upon the body of a fox. My brain struggled to reconcile with this fact and a nasty barking laughter erupted from this creature. In the span of another blink it was gone from sight and yet it’s jeering voice continued to echo in the trees. “You look like you’d provide at least one meal… give me a reason not to. Go on little human… plead your case.” My throat constricted as I struggled to find the words to beg for my life. I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes and so I closed them. They couldn’t be trusted anyway. I took three deep, calming breaths to think before opening my mouth to say:
Paranormal and otherwise odd creatures volume 8 chapter four
Vampyre
Of all the creatures with which we are familiar few are as dangerous and widely feared, yet as beloved, as the vampyre. Humans, for an inexplicable reason while knowing of the beasts existence like to romanticize them. I expect this is due mostly to the vampyres true nature. That, along with how to avoid them will be outlined here. Generally I also list how to fight them but unless you are also a warlock or witch you are unlikely to be successful if you do battle with a vampyre.
The first question you should be asking is what IS a vampyre? They are a creature of primate like build, similar to humans in facial structure. They can be born though such circumstances are almost unheard of due to their aggressive nature. They are much more likely to kill a potential mate than impregnate one. They can prey on virtually any animal but have particular sway over humans and other animals of high intelligence. The more primitive the creatures functions the more resilient they are to the vampyre’s allure.
Are they intelligent? To a point. Intelligence is often measured by a creatures ability to be reasoned with, and in this case that would preclude the vampyre from being deemed intelligent life. They can communicate with most intelligent animals which is how they convince them to bend to their will, but they cannot be made to see beyond their own base desire for sustenance. They are sly, and good at manipulating a creature’s emotions but possess nothing but the most rudimentary of emotions themselves. However they have a strong understanding of cause and effect which is another thing intelligence is measured by, so they fall within the grey area when deciding if an animal is intelligent.
Are they immortal? No. They do in fact age, although their genetic makeup is vastly different from that of a human, to which they are often compared, leading to a lack of outward aging. Contrary to popular belief vampyres do, themselves, contain blood and a heart. Most living animals do. Their heart actually beats at roughly eight times the speed of a human’s, leading to quicker reflexes and faster metabolisms. Due to this they actually have a significantly shorter lifespan than that of a human, averaging at sixty years. Now, this starts at conception; so a vampyre that is born as one will generally only live sixty years, however a turned creature can tack that onto what they’ve already lived. So for example a housecat that was fourteen could expect to survive until age seventy four, give or take. This leads nicely into my next point.
How does turning work? Can anyone be made into a vampyre? The answer is no. Vampyre genetics do not comply with every type of creature, nor do they comply with every creature of a species they generally work on. If your body is not completely drained of blood following a vampyre attack, which is uncommon, you will either die or turn. The specifics as to why some turn and others do not are as of yet unknown. We are still heavily studying these creatures and experiments are not easily done. Please see the back page of this chapter for a comprehensive list of all animals known to resist the vampyre gene. Humans are particularly susceptible, not likely due to having to undergo fewer changes than most. Once the change has begun it can take as little as a few hours or as much as several weeks for the body you were previously inhabiting to become that of a vampyre.
Do vampyres need to consume blood? No. Vampyres need to consume iron. Their preferred source is blood but they can survive on iron heavy plants as well. Vampyres that have been studied in the past have also done well on iron supplements. A lack of blood causes them agitation but they will not starve. Vegetation containing iron can satisfy their needs but does lead to an increase in waste product as much of the contents cannot be properly utilized by their body and is therefore expelled as waste.
How can I avoid vampyres? Luckily vampyres are closely regulated by the council of seven due to the threat they impose on several creatures. Vampyres are generally kept on reserves, one vampyre per three hundred acres. For a complete map of vampyre reserves please see chapter seventeen: where to find these creatures? The only creatures who generally wander into vampyre territory are unintelligent animals or humans. Because god forbid anyone should tell humans what to do. The council of seven has decreed that no vampyre are to be allowed within one hundred kilometers of intelligent creature occupied land. This means anywhere with wide open spaces and no cities or towns for miles is considered fair game for a vampyre reserve. Many are set up in rainforests, on mountains, and anywhere else that people don’t generally like to live.
If vampyres are so dangerous and ruthless why are we preserving them? For the same reason that humans take measures to preserve tigers and sharks; it is important that we not try to design our own perfect world. The removal of an entire species of creature can have terrible unforeseen impacts on the environment as a hole and dangerous or not vampyre are a part of our eco system. Additionally, all life is sacred and should be protected so as to give every soul a chance to ascend to the ultimate wisdom of becoming a witch or warlock. Not every lifetime that was lived by every witch or warlock was as an intelligent creature. Therefore the taking of a life without considering the ramifications of your actions is immoral, even if the creature which owns that life is threatening.
To follow is a collection of stories from other witches and warlocks about personal experiences with vampyres. This concludes the instructive part of this chapter, if you are uninterested in personal anecdotes please proceed to the next chapter.
The child mercifully slept through the entire argument, and the frosty glares they had been shooting each other ever since. She remained nestled comfortably in Derek’s arms letting out the occasional soft snore. She finally awoke to the barking of their neighbour’s dog and let out a soft whine at the sudden state of consciousness she found herself in. “That damn dog again? Goodness sakes it’s almost nine… oh, hey look who’s awake?” Derek’s eyes shone as he gazed at the baby, who only whined for a moment before beaming up at him. Josh was perched at the window glowering at their neighbour’s backyard. “I think we can’t raise a noise complaint until after eleven… oh, is she awake? Good, the instructions said she was supposed to eat dinner around five, but it’s probably fine. I’ll go warm the bottle.”
As Josh darted from the room the baby gazed around, taking in her surroundings. The living room was a perfect blend of both men’s personalities. Derek’s prized vintage record collection lined the bottom shelves of their bookcases, with Josh’s computer manuals carefully organized on the second shelves. Glass figures were, mercifully, in a china cabinet, along with several cherished photos. Cords dangled from their various electronics, of which there were many. Expensive earbuds were carelessly lying upon Josh’s desk, something that had irked Derek for days. Soft throw pillows were carefully placed, giving the room a pop of colour to make up for the neutral paint tones. The baby took all of this in, but understood the significance of none of it. One would not expect her to after all; she was in fact… a baby.
Derek placed her gently on the floor, gathering her soft playthings around her and proceeded to scroll through his emails. He was expecting an important one, but he made sure the baby had toys. It was more than Josh would have thought to do. The child cocked her head to one side as she watched her uncle stare at the small glowing rectangle in his hands. She glanced around at her own toys, none of which appeared to be glowing and made her way toward the couch. Digging her fingernails hard into the Italian leather she roused herself to her feet and strained to see what might be so fascinating. A sharp yell caused her to fall back to the floor in shock and she began wailing.
“What is it? The baby is crying again? Why is it crying again, did you drop it?!” Josh’s screechy voice emanated from the doorway. “No I- it- she… was standing! Like, straight up!”
“Oh.” Josh waved his hand dismissively. “Yea she does that. Melinda told me she started scooting along the edge of the couch last week, it’s no big deal.”
“No big- but it- BABIES CAN’T STAND UP!!” It was Josh’s turn to be amused by a freak out.
“Honestly Derek, you act like you think babies just crawl until they’re supposed to go to school.”
“They don’t?!” Josh shook his head dubiously.
“She’s expected to start walking pretty soon actually. Bring her here, I have the bottle.”
If you’ve ever been tasked with caring for an infant you will know you have to warm their milk slowly, and test it before giving it to them. This is an important step. This was not, however, a step which Melinda had remembered to put in her instructions for childcare.
“Why is it screaming?! I gave it the bottle!”
“I don’t know! Let me try…” Derek reached for the bottle. “Geeze!” Milk droplets fell to the carpet as the bottle tumbled from Derek’s fingers. “That’s hot! How hot did you make it?!”
“The instructions say to heat it to 98, so I put it in for 98 seconds. That’s what it says.” Derek frowned thoughtfully. “Well that makes sense I guess but-“ He took the infant into his arms and rocked soothingly. “That was clearly too hot… we best let it cool. There there… shh….” The child continued to whimper for some time before relaxing into the warmth of Derek’s chest. “You go on and play honey… I’ll show your uncle how to warm a bottle.
Derek, of course, knew little better than Josh how to warm a bottle as the men would soon discover. But while they were busy attempting to boil milk their charge was enacting experiments of her own. A loud crash brought both men back to reality when it was followed by a piteous, piercing shriek. Two left feet appeared to be possessed by both as they stumbled into the living room. The disaster that overtook their eyes would make a person think the infant had been unattended for several hours, instead of minutes.
More tiny claw marks had appeared upon the couch. Three of Dereks precious records had been tossed carelessly across the room, one of them was smothered in a body fluid of unidentifiable origins. A manual had found its way from the carefully organized place it had resided in and was in the center of the room, missing various pages. A laptop was dangling precariously on the back of a desk. Various cords lay asunder of where they should have been plugged in and lastly, an expensive headset was on the floor in the baby’s lap, the baby herself was propped against the cracked glass door of the china cabinet where several glass figures shook back and forth.
As if in slow motion both men clamoured toward the wailing infant, breath coming in short gasps, panic shining in their wide eyes. Derek clutched the child to his chest while Josh immediately set about checking her head for bumps or scrapes. “Is she broken? Did we break her? Oh god, we’re so toast Derek…” Josh moaned as he ran his fingers over her scalp, her peach fuzz hair soft beneath his touch. The infant continued to cry as Derek murmured to her, but Josh let out a sigh of relief as he found no scratches upon her.
It took several minutes of rocking before the sobbing subsided to hiccups, and neither man spoke, save Derek’s comforting murmurs. They gazed at the chaos a few short minutes without supervision had resulted in and met each other’s eyes. “Derek… I know you want to adopt but-“ Derek shook his head. “I know… we have a lot to learn first.” A collective sigh of relief was had, shared by the infant whose hiccups subsided. A small smile crept across all three faces. “I’ll watch the baby… you clean up this mess. Then you watch her and I’ll warm the bottle.” Josh nodded in numb agreement.
The remainder of the evening went reasonably smoothly once they found a children’s channel on their cable package. Josh’s head pounded with the sing-song melodies for many days to follow, but the child was entertained at least. It was roughly one in the morning when a knock on their door signalled the return of the primary caregiver. Derek was half asleep as he yanked the door open and immediately began the word vomit of how their night had gone. “But it quieted down when we found a program which appealed to its core drive and the suspicious noises have stopped now so I believe it will be operational from here on out.” Melinda blinked as she gazed around their living room and her eyes fell upon the baby, sitting bolt upright on Josh’s lap eyes glued to a colourful dancing animal on the screen. “Why is she still awake?”
Derek frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I told you guys to put her down at like seven…”
“We did. On the floor. That’s when all the chaos happened.”
“No no… put her down. Like, in the bed.”
“Why would we put her in the bed?”
“So she could sleep?” Both Derek and Josh frowned in confusion. The baby started giggling and it seemed as if it were at their incompetence, but honestly it probably had a lot more to do with the animal falling over on the television. The words escaped both men in unison as they slapped their foreheads simultaneously. “You never said we could put it in sleep mode!” Thus, a lesson was learned. In many ways a computer and an infant are not alike, but both do best when their sleep mode is properly engaged at regular intervals.
The hour is oh thirteen hundred hours. I have surrendered all hope of peace with an unrelenting enemy. The sounds of warfare fill the air and I begin to wonder if I shall ever sleep again, if I even survive this battle. My beloved has turned on me in my hour of need and is unresponsive. If this should reach him, know my love for you is like a cavernous canyon. Both vast and deep. Farewell.
“Darling I don’t think canyons can be cavernous. By their nature canyons don’t have ceilings and therefore cannot be cavernous.” Josh scowled as Derek chuckled. “But your poetic phrasing is sweet. However we do have to get this baby fed.” Derek kissed the tip of Joshes nose before turning his attention back to the baby who was perched in a high chair. “Nyeeeeroooom!” Derek maneuvered the spoon the way parents are wont to do in the vain hope of coaxing the child to open her mouth. Her mouth however was set in a stubborn pout as she scowled at her would be feeder.
I fear we shall starve here, set behind the wall of our scowling opponent. All hope should be henceforth abandoned as metal is flying in my direction once more. Surely we shall perish here my love. And yet, success! A hole in our enemy’s defenses has been breached! Perhaps there is hope after all. With my love by my side I shall- “Babe, you need to stop writing and feed your niece. The bedroom is still a mess from the diaper debacle and eventually we’re probably going to have to change her again.” Joshes nose scrunched at the thought and he reluctantly took over trying to convince the child to not wallpaper their kitchen with green mush the origin of which could no longer be deciphered. He had moderate success and by the time Derek returned was running a clean cloth over the baby’s face. “Done? Wow.” Derek’s eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “You didn’t skip any steps did you?” His voice had an accusatory edge and Josh crossed his arms. “Now why would I skip steps? Put food on spoon, put spoon in mouth, wait for swallow, repeat.” Derek quirked an eyebrow. “Then why is the little jar still mostly full? Did you only feed her two spoonfuls?”
“Yes! I followed the instructions! Put food on spoon, put spoon in mouth…” Derek frowned thoughtfully while Josh continued explaining. “Well, that is true… maybe that’s all babies need. Okay, so what is next?” Joshes rant ceased immediately as he once again consulted the instructions. “Put her down with a bottle. Wait what? You can’t club a baby with a bottle what’s she saying?!” Joshes voice once again got high as Derek snatched the page from his hands. “I mean I’ve had to put down animals before but what kind of monster does she think I am?! No, I’m not going to put down her baby I don’t care what she s-“
“Josh.” Derek’s voice was soothing as he crooned at him. “Your sister does not want you to kill her baby.”
“But the instructions-“
“I’m sure she just means to put it down out of the high chair. Let’s put it on the floor with a bottle okay?” At that Derek plucked an empty pop bottle off the counter. “I mean, we have toys for it so I don’t know why it would need a bottle but maybe it just likes them.” The baby cooed as Derek lifted it from the high chair, reaching once more for his tie as he set it on the kitchen floor. “I’m going to get these dishes caught up, why don’t you clean the walls?” Josh waited several minutes for his pulse to return to a normal rate before he took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. That makes sense.” All was well. Except that it wasn’t. All was not well at all.
You may have no experience with babies. In which case I would like to inform you that a kitchen floor is absolutely no place to leave one. Josh had hardly touched cloth to wall when a piercing wail made his hands shoot to the sides of his head to shield his ears. Pots clanged into the sink as Derek did the same and both scanned the room for the source of the unbearable noise. Halfway across the room from where they’d left her was the child, her hand caught in a cupboard door and an unholy screech echoing from her tiny lungs. Both men sprang into action, tripping over each other as they gently eased her fingers from the crack between cupboard and door. “Is she ok?”
“No she’s not okay!” Derek cooed softly at the child as he picked it up and rocked it. “She could have lost a finger, I thought we had babyproof things on those doors?”
“We do!” Joshes pulse rapidly began to rise again when he thought of what his sister might do to them if she learned about this. “They must not be installed correctly. Hold on, let me get the instructions, I’ll uninstall and reinstall them.”
“I mean, is that really important right now?” The baby’s shrieking had subsided to gentle hiccups. “We just have to watch her. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere she’s not supposed to.” Josh shook his head.
“That would be like leaving faulty virus protection on a computer and telling someone to avoid sites where viruses are common. The program is faulty, we have to reinstall it.”
“Yes but fixing the computer’s components is more important than making sure the malware protection is properly installed.” Derek’s lips pursed as they entered into an ages long debate. “The health of the machine is your first concern. Hardware before software.” Joshes eyes flared.
“But if your software is up to date you have a better chance of not damaging the hardware!” The argument continued to escalate, and in their fervour neither man noticed a soft yawn like the coo of a dove and gentle snoring as the child nestled into Derek’s chest and closed her eyes. Calm rhythmic breaths warmed his shirt as they argued pointlessly about the hardware or software, of the child who could care less.
Josh did not agree to babysit his elder sister’s one year old daughter, but regardless of that at five p.m. on a Saturday both he and his new husband Derek found themselves accepting a diaper bag and a list of instructions. Derek was already reading by the time Josh swung the door closed, due to being in tech support both men were avid fans of instructions when it came to difficult tasks. And if you have ever babysat a one year old you will know that it is, indeed, a difficult task. “I thought you told her no?” Derek gently chided his blonde lover and kissed his nose as he handed him the list. Josh released a sigh he’d been holding in as he relinquished the baby in order to read. “I did. Three times. She told me I need to have a relationship with my niece, which I might understand if she was even a person yet, but she has no cognitive memory at this stage of development. This is just her wanting a night off to go dancing or… whatever women do.” He scoffed.
“Ah, but research suggests that while they have no memory of events from infanthood they do remember feelings. They remember how particular people made them feel, whether that is safe and loved or uncomfortable. You should have a relationship with your niece. I just don’t see why it has to be on a Saturday night.” The little girl cooed and reached for Derek’s long dangling earring as he countered Josh’s points. “Whatever, the baby is here now… let the fun begin.”
Josh regretted this flippant attitude mere minutes later when a distinctive scent met his nostrils. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. This is your niece, I’m not on diaper detail.” Josh grinned as Derek held the baby out to him as if she were a bomb. “But darling it will be good practice! How hard could it be? We’ll do it together. It’ll be just like fixing a computer.” If you have any practice at both activities you will probably know that babies are nothing like computers, even if both tend to break down for seemingly no reason. Josh however, did not know this, but it would not take long before he learned.
“Okay, we need a diaper, powder, three wet wipes, organic only, a trash can, and… where is the baby?” Josh looked up from his list of materials to find Derek tiptoeing from the room. “Uh-uh, you’re doing this. Now lay the baby on the towel.”
“On its back or its stomach?” Josh frowned as he perused his sisters written instructions.
“It doesn’t explicitly say, I don’t think it matters. Maybe on its front because I think they sleep on their backs.” Derek nodded.
“That makes sense.” Josh spent a few more minutes fussing over their equipment list while Derek tried to keep a very fussy little girl from crawling off the top of the dresser. “Okay, we’re ready.” Josh grinned triumphantly as he gazed at his well-organized tabletop, Derek simply rolled his eyes as he was still struggling with the fussing baby. “Okay, what’s the first step?” Josh scanned the page of instructions. “Remove old diaper… that should be easy.” As his fingers tugged on the flaps, attempting to tug the diaper off like a pair of underwear the baby wriggled causing the front to fall open. It would have been comical if it wasn’t followed by a wailing baby as watery feces coated the towel she was laying on. Both men immediately grimaced. “Well… one of us is going to have to clean that up.”
After a quick clean up job and an impromptu bath for the baby in the sink (which resulted in sopping wet counters and clothing) it was time to tackle the diaper again. Derek cradled the baby in a towel as Josh once again prepared the top of the dresser for the task. “Okay, lay her on the towel… maybe on her back this time.” Carefully Derek laid her down, smiling as she was no longer fussing or shrieking. Babies can be quite charming when they’re smiling, and this one had a particularly cute dimple on her right cheek. “Okay.” He asked. “What’s the next task?” Josh’s face was hidden behind the instruction manual. His voice was slightly muffled. “Is she dry?”
“No.” Derek snarked. “I just spent twenty minutes rubbing her with a towel so she’d still be wet.”
“I’m sorry babe but it’s written right here. Check if she’s dry. If she is she doesn’t need a new diaper.”
“Well that just doesn’t make any sense. What does her skin moisture level have to do with it?”
“I don’t know but it’s right here look!” The baby stared curiously at the two men who were inexplicably fussing over a piece of paper. “Look, whatever, we already threw the old one out so skip ahead. “
“But you can’t skip steps Derek!” Derek sighed exasperatedly.
“But we can’t let her go without a diaper.”
“Well the instructions say…”
“But she could pee on the rug if she doesn’t have a diaper. And I love that rug, it’s gorgeous.”
“I mean, good point.” Josh finally conceded. “So, new diaper then. Right, insert the diaper under her bottom, oh under! So I suppose she did need to be laid on her back all along!”
“Mmm. That should have been specified, we should add an addendum for future diaper changers.” Derek slid the diaper under her. “What ne-eeext??” his thought was interrupted by a tiny fist which grabbed hold of his tie, followed by a tiny giggle when his voice got high and squeaky as she pulled on it. “This is Italian silk! Good baby… Just let it go… Come on now… a little help please?” Josh scanned the paper frantically. “There’s nothing here for what to do if the baby seizes your clothing! How do you get her to let go?!” The baby giggled more as both men’s voices reached new levels of squeaky. Finally the end of the tie touched the bottom of her foot and she let go to shriek in laughter as it tickled. A moments relief was had. A moment’s.
“I think you’re using too much powder!”
“Well it doesn’t say how much to use!!”
“Yes but I’m pretty sure if the baby starts coughing from the smoke, it’s too much!” They were onto the next step now and a thick coat of powder coated the poor child’s behind as she coughed.
“This isn’t smoke, smoke is only present if there’s fire, this is more like… a cloud.”
“Clouds are only present where there’s water.”
“Well that’s true, but then what is it?” If the child had been old enough to sigh I imagine it would have, as it was it started crying instead. “Great, now she’s crying.” Derek lifted her off the dresser and held her to his chest, cooing at her. “Is your uncle a dumbass? Yes he is. Yes he is.” He rocked gently back and forth while she quieted. Josh snickered. “What?!” Derek’s brow furrowed as he took in the smirk.
“I may be a dumb ass but you’re the one who’s getting baby powder all over your Italian silk tie.”
The shriek that escaped Derek could only be heard by dogs. It is a miracle the babies eardrums were not damaged and she wasn’t flung from his hands. “T-take her! Ack! I have to change, good god why did you let me do that?” As he fled the room both uncle and niece giggled.
“Well, maybe you’re not so bad… come on.” Josh said “let’s get this diaper on you.”
There were a number of factors that contributed to the chain of events which led to a small kitten lying dead on a cold cement floor that evening in December. The first factor came into play before it was even born, in the form of a decision made by someone who would never even know of its existence. A decision made not out of desperation but merely convenience, to leave their male cat unaltered. It’s hard to say how many kittens were the result of this outdoor roaming tom, but this one certainly was.
“Stop! Mom Mittens got out!” The cry echoed through the home of the child, only six. The mother hesitated as she heard her child’s call. It was late, and she needed to get her daughter to bed. Mittens was an indoor cat, and only six months old she would probably come back in a couple hours. “That’s ok honey, she’ll be back soon. She probably just wants to explore.” An anxious knot formed in her stomach, but what could she do? Go out in the dark to hunt for the kitten that would probably make it back home before they did, and throw off the girls sleep schedule for her trouble? Not to mention worry her. “It’ll be ok, she’ll be back when you get up tomorrow, now go brush your teeth okay?” But it was not okay. About three blocks away a cat yowled, and our story begins.
“Mommy look how big Mittens is getting! Do you think she’ll have the kittens soon?” The frazzled mother released the breath she’d been holding “I don’t know honey. Probably.” The girl was definitely right, the poor creature’s stomach was huge with babies and she was almost a baby herself. She chewed her lip as she ran over the options for vet care in her mind. How did something like this even happen? It was hard to imagine a kitten becoming pregnant, and yet here was the proof. What if there was a complication? If she lost the litter, or one got stuck, the vet bills could easily cripple them. Then what if there were no complications? The cat was huge, how on earth was she going to deal with a litter of kittens? She sank to the couch to weigh their options as her small daughter sang songs to the expecting kitten. Who knew something she had adopted to make her daughter happy could cause such a huge mess?
The delivery thankfully went off without a hitch. The little girl squealed with delight when she came home to five perfect squirming little bundles of joy. Grey like their mother and letting out the tiny mewls only newborn kittens are capable of the mother breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they could handle this after all. She smiled when she gazed at her daughters beaming face. They were only kittens, she would find them homes when the time came. Who could possibly not want kittens?
The answer, as it turned out, was a lot of people. The other women in her mommy group, her sister in law, even the nice lady on the corner with the bowls of cat food beneath her front porch. Everyone she asked either didn’t want a kitten or had too many cats already. Six weeks. Eight weeks. Twelve. The kittens were tumbling around the house now, getting into anything not kept under lock and key. Her daughter was of course delighted by the mayhem but it was when she was finally at her wits end that the mother booted up her computer. It was time to return to just one cat, before she strayed any further down the rabbit hole of learning why crazy cat ladies are crazy.
“Free to a good home.” Words phrased with the best of intentions that none the less resulted in every last kitten’s demise. Two kittens were crushed beneath the tires of a truck at their new farm home. One perished from exposure when its new owner dragged it to the park and forgot to bring it home with them. Lastly, this one’s other sibling died at this one’s very first step on its tragically short journey. A nice little old lady stroked the baby’s head, smiling warmly as she assured the mother she would take good care of both kittens. A sigh of relief escaped the mother as she watched the box with the last two kittens vanish into her car. She would have no idea what became of the kittens. Was it her fault? I wouldn’t say so. How was she to know? She was just doing what she thought was best. What then, of the person who decided to skirt the vet costs of neutering their male? Certainly not the best decision, but who among us hasn’t put off something simply because it was inconvenient? It’s very hard to place blame, but the first home our kitten found itself in is certainly where I would lay the most.
Both kittens tensed from the moment the woman removed the box from her car. They had been wildly confused when six other kittens were picked up from various homes and added to the back seat, but now they were certain something was very wrong. Her brother mewled pitifully and curled into her as the box was handed over to a gruff looking man who slipped a crisp bill into the old woman’s hand. “Six? Looks good. I want another six next week okay?” A dull dread crept down the kitten’s back and it’s hackles raised as the stench it had smelled from outside got stronger. Loud growls and the clatter of chains upon the floor filled the air as the box was dropped roughly to the ground. The kitten gazed through a hole in the side of the box and couldn’t understand what the gruff man was saying to his colleague but stared intensely at the creature they were both praising.
Thick muscles bulged beneath skin that seemed stretched too thin over them. Flecks of drool sparkled on its chin as it gazed stupidly up at its masters. A slick sweat glistened on its thin fur and it’s yellowed teeth caught the light. Fearful mews erupted all around the kitten and it scooted to the back as the man stormed to the box. She flinched as the ground shifted beneath her from the force of his boot crushing in one side of their enclosure, and yet suddenly she saw her chance! A crack in the top of the box opened from the force of his boot, only for an instant but that instant was all she needed. Wings seemed to erupt from her spine and carry her to safety as she soared from the prison which had contained them and a panicked mewl was the last sound she would ever hear from any of her littermates.
Shouts filled the surrounding air and she froze momentarily. The animal which had previously looked docile and gentle exploded into a snarling beast. Its chain strained against the link which was attached to the wall and one of the humans calmly spoke while the other dove for her. Her panic took the form of flight and not a moment too soon as the chain was released by the calm human, and in an instant the eighty five pounds of pure muscle that made up the snarling beast was barrelling toward her. Breath came in short gasps as she made for her only hope of salvation. Her tiny muscles burned from fatigue as he gained on her with every step. Hot breath made her fur sticky and wet and yellowed teeth clamped down mere inches from her tail tip as she flung herself recklessly through a window and landed gracefully on the other side.
Her escape, though daring, left her with little idea of where to go next. She put as much distance as her legs would allow between herself and those yellowing teeth. Dusk was licking at the edges of buildings and casting an orange glow upon the scenery when she finally took stock of her surroundings. It was a posh place she’d found herself in, colourful flowers lined every path. Tall homes with perfectly manicured lawns stood proudly and the light of the setting sun reflected off the glittering cars which lined every driveway. A garden bed nearby looked particularly inviting, the dirt soft and fluffy from recent activity. An ashy and somewhat sour smell filled her nostrils as she sank her paws into the soil. The salty scent of the earth made her stomach growl uncomfortably as she relieved herself. She would desperately wish she had moved on mere moments later when an angry shriek reverberated around her.
The woman’s hands were a blur as she waved them erratically, a high pitched squeal directed at the animal that had befouled her precious garden. It is difficult to blame her if you have ever found an animal urinating on your hard work you may relate. The kitten’s breath was heavy by the time she had once again successfully outrun the current threat and her mouth felt like sandpaper. She dipped her muzzle into a small pool of stagnant water which would have been an unsightly eyesore in the last neighbourhood and had just gotten her first mouthful when an enticingly meaty aroma caught her attention. Her stomach growled again. Dinner was served.
She followed the scent to a small bowl which had been placed carefully inside of a steel box. Memories of tumbling playfully with her littermates in boxes warmed her heart as she crawled in, but this box was of course not like those ones. A loud clang erupted behind her and she whirled around. A door had closed, sealing both the box and her fate. She reached her tiny legs through the bars in a feeble attempt to escape but before an hour had passed resigned herself to her prison. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she was still hungry and she inhaled the small bowl of meaty paste. It tasted sweet and salty and she relaxed a bit, curling on the cold pavement and waiting for morning.
Morning came with a jolt, her eyes sprang open as the ground shifted beneath her. A human lifted the cage which was her new home into the air and before she could brace for the impact the cage was thrust roughly into a much less shimmery vehicle than the ones that had lines the other driveways. Her heart beat like a bongo drum as the combination of new sensations overwhelmed her. A cry escaped her in the form of a tiny yowl, which continued until the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. The next few minutes passed in a blur as she struggled to understand precisely what was happening.
Before she could fathom any of it the human had gone, taking their clanging metal box with them. The ground beneath her paws was cold and hard. The air was rank with a sour chemical scent, and another human stood watching her. Trembling slightly she took a few steps to explore her new surroundings, recoiling immediately when she felt a human hand brush the tip of her tail. Two humans mumbled something between themselves before leaving her in the empty sterile room.
The weeks that followed things began to look up, the humans in this place seemed to be kind, much like the people that owned her mother. It was not long before a rumbling purr shook her in pleasure when she felt their fingertips stroking her fur. It was mere days later that she began to meet other humans. Some were small with grubby fingers, and some were taller with piercing gazes. It was one of the small ones which ended up offering her a home, for which she was grateful.
Her nose twitched as the box in which she had been stuffed was opened and she found herself once more inside a house. The air here lacked the stale scents of the place she had been taught to be hospitable and instead were welcoming and warm. It was a wonderful place to spend a few days, sadly that is all she would be allowed to spend there as before the sun had set on the third she felt a chubby fist close upon her tail and a jolt of pain shot through her spine as it tugged. I would like to think you have never felt spinal pain but if you have you will immediately understand the kittens reaction, which involved a flash of claws and a crying child. This of course meant that our kitten found herself once more outside in the cold, and this time it was much colder indeed.
A chill wind ruffled her fur, causing it to stand on end as she watched a mouse rifling through trash. She had been several days on the street now and was beginning to become accustomed to it. Her hunting was not what it could be and she had been subsisting mostly on scraps dug from the large refuse cans the humans liked to use, but she was determined to try. Her focus was steely and her muscles taught as she waited for the mouse to come more into the open. Her attention was so strongly focused on the task at hand she didn’t see or smell the other cat until she was on top of her.
Teeth sank into her shoulder before she had an inclination of what was happening and she kicked off with her back feet. Her shoulder throbbed and a deep growl emanated from her throat to ward off this predator. The mouse of course had vanished and anger surged through her at the lost meal, propelling her forward and her teeth also met flesh while her claws tore frantically at the other cats fur. Her tail lashed back and forth as she felt a slice through the tender skin of her ear. A cry escaped her and she struggled to return fire. A yell from a nearby window shook both cats and they sprang apart as a large boot was suddenly between them. The adrenaline broken the kitten suddenly desperately wanted to flee, and managed to put several blocks between herself and her aggressor. The damage however was done, and a few short days later an empty stomach was the least of her concerns.
She had a hard time holding herself up when she found herself back on the hard examination table at the shelter where she’d been adopted. A kindly stranger had found her staggering and dropped her off there, she hadn’t even seen their face but started purring the moment they lifted her into their arms. Their touch had been gentle and they had spoken with a coo while they carried her. Her ear felt warm and she dug her claws into the strangers shirt wishing desperately they were here to take her home. But she was back here again, and while the people around her were kind, their voices sounded worried. She lay her head down, closed her eyes so she could no longer see the crust around them and waited.
A soft hand stroked her and she heard that same soothing tone to the person’s voice as she opened her eyes to gaze into their face. Their eyes were not red with tears, but were not untroubled either. “Shh…. It’s alright.” She didn’t understand the words, but they brought some comfort anyway. Her chest heaved and rattled with infection and she hardly flinched as a needle pinched its way into her vein. Moments later her eyes felt heavy and she allowed them once more the drift closed, not knowing that they would never again open. The last thing that reached her before she fell into the soothing abyss were two words that in that moment she actually did understand. “I’m sorry…”
Our kitten was one of many cats that lost their lives that evening, for various reasons. Whether they were too feral, or ill, or simply too old each one likely had a story similar to this one. In the end the world did not mourn for the loss of one small kitten, but it was a loss none the less, and no less tragic for the fact that the poor creature never experienced what it was to be truly, deeply, loved.
I am a kitsune. If you're unfamiliar with the term we're a sort of fox spirit with nine tails. Or at least my brother is. I however have only one. Which I'm fine with. It doesn't bother me. Kitsune gain their tails for feats of accomplishment. Doing great things, mighty things, things that benefit the world at large. I could care less about the world at large. So, I have one tail.
As far as I’m concerned kitsune get a raw deal. I mean magic powers are cool and great and all but you can’t even use them for your own benefit. It has to be in the service of others so what is even the point right? I found a loophole though. Let me explain.
Eleven years ago I found what I thought was a giant ruby washed up in the shallows of a river. No, I didn’t question why a giant ruby would have been thrown in the river, this was eleven years ago okay? If you found a ruby the size of your head you probably wouldn’t spend a lot of time questioning it either. My breath caught in my throat at the beauty of it. It’s multi-faceted surface caused a shimmer across the water with light dancing around. It was as if the light was celebrating my good fortune. The rich red hues suggested a flame flickering within. My heart leapt in my chest as I thought of how much a gem that size could fetch.
With trembling paws I lifted it from its watery bed where small waves still lapped at it as if the river was eager to hold onto this treasure. Careful not to scuff the surface I began to rid it of various river debris, gently brushing my paw over the dirt and algae. I marveled as more of the beautiful gem was uncovered, it was breathtaking. I carried it a short distance until I could sit and examine my prize. My heart sank like a stone as I felt a crack on the side which had been resting on the riverbed. Thinking perhaps it didn’t go very deep I eased my paw into the divot. My hopes were dashed, the crack was in fact a canyon stretching deep within the stone. Just as I was wondering whether it might be better to split the stone and sell two halves instead of the cracked whole I found yet another surprise. The jewel was pulsing deep within.
The stone seemed to throb in time with each beat of my own heart. With each pulse my breath quickened until my nose resembled that of a rabbits, twitching erratically. I jerked my paw back and held it to my chest as if it had been burned. My head reeled as I struggled to find a reasonable explanation. Sadly, large as it is, my brain couldn’t find one.
Now don’t get the wrong idea here. It’s not as though I am unfamiliar with the idea of magical artifacts, I have a little magic of my own as I mentioned. The problem if fact was the opposite. I have massive texts at home detailing every known type of magical object and glowing, pulsing red gems are not listed. My brother would have skipped for glee at this opportunity to give something back to the community. To study this gem and uncover it’s properties. Me, I wanted to sell the damn thing as quickly as possible and move on. Nodding my head matter of factly I heaved the gem off the ground and headed for the pawn shop.
Pawn shops are kind of scummy places. They often smell rank and they contain a myriad of treasures that were stolen or surrendered. This one was no different, but it was one with which I was certainly familiar. “Minion!” The shop keep’s eyes twinkled as he saw the wealth balanced between my paws. I could practically see cartoon money symbols in his eyes as I heaved it onto the counter. “Ey Mack. What do you think I could get for this?” The light vanished from his eyes as he switched to business mode. “I dunno little dude, how do I know this is real? Or that I could even sell a gem this size? Mmmm… two grand.” I scoffed.
“I can’t wipe my ass with two grand Mack, look at the size of this giant! Have I ever cheated you before?” I hesitated as I watched his eyebrow raise. “Okay that’s fair, but this time it’s real and I am NOT taking less than fifteen gees.” We began to haggle, both getting quite emotional so it’s no wonder neither of us noticed when a second crack appeared on the surface of the gem. It is however a little disconcerting that neither of us noticed the gem beginning to shake. It rocked back and forth like a child’s toy, to and fro until both of us shouted as it plummeted to the floor.
It seemed to take a lifetime for the gem to hit the floor, I remember screaming stop as if that in any way would cease it’s decent. It’s surface caught the dim lighting of the building as it tumbled to its doom, and as shards flew when it hit the ground I pulled up my paws to shield my eyes from the onslaught. The sound was deafening, reverberating throughout the shop and rattling the shelves. A few other items tumbled to the floor from the force of it but when I finally opened my eyes the gem had vanished. Scattered itself about the store in tiny shards. In its place, curled upon the dingy ground was a fluffy pink…. Something.
Now you’re going to have to forgive me as at the time I did not know what I now do. And that is that baby dragons do not in fact look very much like dragons. This one looked even less like one than normal with minute wings that in no way could hope to achieve lift off, a large black nose which reminded me of a dogs and not a claw in sight. A large leathery wing resembling that of a bat protruded from one side of his head and on the other it appeared a similar appendage had started to grow but failed to finish as only the bones had formed, covered by the same leathery skin. Soft baby pink fur covered the creature from top to bottom with the exception of its belly and a tuft of fur on the tip of its tail both of which were a deep black hue.
Its eyes were clenched shut from the force of its home shattering around it but when it opened them they were large and perfectly round. They shone like tiny onyx in its head and immediately pierced me with a laser like focus. The thing had no discernible mouth so I have not a clue from where the sound came from but a tiny squeak seemed to emanate from him. “Bi!” The sound caused the corners of my lips to curl upward against my will and I realized I had hit the jackpot even further that day. This creature was adorable, and people will pay large sums of money to gaze upon adorable things. Mack must have come to the same conclusion because he immediately offered me thirty thousand dollars for the beast, but I waved him off. The creature unfurled its tail and squeaked again. It needed a name that was just as cute as it was, one that people would remember and would speak with a smile. “Bibop isn’t for sale bud.”
It has been eleven years now and I still would turn down Mack’s offer of thirty grand. Now mind you I’ve managed to make more than ten times that from this little bugger, but that’s not why I’d turn it down. I wouldn’t ever let him know but as I sit here and watch him sleep, I feel a sense of calm. An affection I can’t explain, an affection I’ve never felt for anything or anyone else before. An affection that began instantly the moment I gazed into his deep black eyes. I wouldn’t trade that feeling for all the tea in China. Plus, you know, I sold the shards of his egg for a pretty tidy sum so… there’s that.
Sunlight filtered through my beige curtains, casting highlights on the walls and playing gently across my face. I let out a soft moan, not yet ready to release myself from the visions dancing behind my eyelids. As consciousness reluctantly was thrust upon me the images faded from both vision, and memory. However I left my eyes closed for several minutes, until I heard familiar music fill the tiny space which I am permitted to occupy in my house. Another moan rumbled in my throat as I finally forced my eyes wide.
It seemed like a fairly normal day, maybe even a good one. The sky was an azure blue with small but fluffy clouds dancing across it. My hand fell upon my phone, which was vibrating with the force of my morning alarm, and my day began.
My eyes drifted lazily over my accumulation of clothing, dismissing each article with disgust, the way teenage girls often do. Hearing the ruckus of the rest of the house stirring I decided it was best to get my ass in gear if I was planning on having breakfast before school, and decided on my white shorts and red v-neck tee.
I grimaced at the wrinkled state of the tee as the hanger swung back from the force of its burden being snatched from where it hung, and flung it to the bed. My breasts complained slightly as I lifted my night shirt over my head and I made a mental note that it was time to start dieting again unless I wanted to outgrow all my clothes. The idea of asking my mother to take my shopping for new ones, coupled with the look of disdain I could already picture on her face was not one I relished, so dieting was definitely the way to go. It was when I folded down my pj pants and made to kick them to the floor that something abnormal finally hit me.
A quarter sized mark, blue around the edges and a center the colour of caramel, perched delicately upon the outside of my thigh. My brain reeled, going slowly over every possible cause, as one does when a foreign mark finds its way onto your person. My bare skin grazed the soft blankets of my bed as I perched there to go over the likely culprits.
Yesterday had begun in much the same way today had, with the exception of the sunlight. Clouds had hung in the sky and threatened rain, I recalled this clearly as the threat had persisted and I had wondered if soccer practice would be canceled. I remembered packing my cleats anyway, which had taken a while because they weren’t where I had left them. “Ryan!!” I could almost hear myself shouting at my dimwit brother for taking my cleats, feel the vibration of the floor as his feet pounded down the hall toward me. The ensuing argument had lasted several minutes, minutes which were precious in the morning. The result had been a lack of shower, and still missing soccer cleats. So I hadn’t slipped in the shower then.
I closed my eyes, tracing where I had gone next, and wincing inwardly at my whiny tone as I had stood outside my mother’s door. “Ryan took my cleats, I know he did, and I need them for soccer! This sucks!” I remembered stamping my foot, as my mother had told me off for my childish antics and threatened not to let me continue having a job if I was going to act like a child. “Adults don’t stamp their feet when they’re upset Jillian. Use your words.” I sighed, mom was always like that.
But nothing had hit me when I stamped my foot, and nothing else of note had happened at home. I’d packed my usual ham sandwich and ran to catch the bus. Had I fallen? I recalled each time my feet had struck the pavement, but as far as I could remember had arrived at the bus without issue. My father had shouted something that sounded suspiciously like “wear a coat!” as I dashed out the door, but a bruised ego left no physical marks. When my keester had found the hard plastic seat that was the best our cheap school bus could offer I unzipped my bag and rifled through it. Soccer cleats, textbooks, my work uniform, everything I would need for an unremarkable day. The bus ground to a rather jerky halt to pick up one of my friends and I heard some rabble rousing at the back as a couple of the kids had been thrust forward. Katie plopped into the seat next to mine and I recounted the tale of my stolen cleats while the bus puttered onwards towards the hell we liked to call our school.
Bad pop music droned through speakers that were older than I was in the halls. As I made my way to my homeroom I saw the usual high school bull, someone studying, a couple dumb boys wrestling, one of the drama students reciting lines with just a little too much gusto (one of the best tells of inexperience) nothing amiss. I struggled to remember if anyone had bumped me, but nothing remarkable came to mind. My classes had all gone smoothly, I got my English homework back (got an eighty, not bad) and everything had been normal until lunch. I winced a little remembering lunch.
I don’t usually find myself in the cafeteria at lunch time (remember my sandwich?) but today when I unwrapped my carefully prepared meal I spotted a disgusting spot of green fuzz nestled in a sea of soft white bread and knew I would have to brave it. I begged Katie to protect me from the masses but when she shook her head I gathered my courage, took a deep breath and strode in.
The noise was palpable. I like to listen to my music at a temperate sixty percent and this was well abouve seventy decibels. I ducked as a spoonful of mashed potatoes whizzed past my ear and sent the culprit of the attack a nasty glare. It must have worked because I remember feeling a sense of smug satisfaction as he sat his ass down and feigned remorse. I had chosen a cup of strawberries with yogurt and a grilled cheese for lunch. Ten dollars seemed like a bit much for the contents of my tray but I needed staying power if I was going to make it through a shift at work on top of soccer practice. The buttery crunch of the sandwich almost made up for the near miss of potato in my face, and I found myself not entirely sorry that my ham sandwich had proven inedible.
It wasn’t until I had half finished that I realized where I had decided to sit. A mere five feet from me, and staring at my chest with gusto was the mouth breather who always watched our soccer practice. Kevin. I frowned and scooted sideways to put a little more distance between us, until I felt my thigh brush against the steel leg of the table. The leg was cold and I considered just ditching my food and leaving, but ten dollars is a lot of money. It’s incomprehensible how I could hear his breaths amid the din of the cafeteria, but I swear I could almost feel the air being pushed between his teeth, even though I know that isn’t actually possible. My chewy grilled cheese didn’t taste nearly as good once I realized I was watching it beneath his watchful gaze.
I ended up walking the halls with my yogurt cup, carefully smuggled out as you’re not supposed to have food outside the cafeteria. The rest of the school day had been formulaic, and I couldn’t think of any reason a bruise would have blossomed on my skin from it. Had it been the table leg? I couldn’t remember hitting it with any amount of force, but possibly. I sank my teeth gently into my bottom lip as I continued to peruse the days memories.
Finally I landed at soccer practice, slipping on my cleats in the changing room. I told Katie about my impromptu lunch date and we both shared a laugh at our mouth breathing friends expense. I gazed longingly at the showers, wondering briefly if there was time to slip in a quick wash to make up for this morning, but the coach had launched into a tirade over something or another and I had to at least pretend to be paying attention. I expect I wasn’t because I couldn’t recall what the speech had been about, but I’ve gotten pretty good at pretending. Seven short minutes later we were on the field, sweating as we raced each other around it, attempting to foot wrestle the spotted ball into the opponents net. I remembered a chill in the air and a crisp scent that made me wonder again if it was going to rain.
A slight drizzle began about ten minutes in and persisted throughout practice but we were not to be done in by a little rain. Anything short of a downpour and we were determined to play, because we’re girls. I recalled the ball hurtling toward me. I remembered a split second decision to knock it to Katie, and my eyes flew open as I remembered my foot coming out from under me.
My breath caught in my throat as my foot slipped on the grass, slick with rain. My shoulder slammed hard into the dirt and my eyesight went dark for a moment, as it tends to when you take a hard fall. Play had stopped as everyone gathered around me and the coach asked if anything hurt. I frowned, concentrating on how exactly I had struck the ground. I remembered my ankle had been twisted, and as I touched my shoulder I realized a bruise was also blossoming there, but my thigh hadn’t taken the weight of my fall so an injury there didn’t make a lot of sense.
That was it though. I felt my brow furrow as I sat naked upon my bed reaching for any other possible explanation. My mother had picked me up after practice and due to having to ice my ankle I had called in sick from work. My manager had groaned a little, but there was little to be done. The remainder of the evening had been spent in bed, icing my ankle and studying. I pushed the mark, watching the pale skin around it regain colour for a moment after I released it and sighed. It would seem that the mystery mark on my thigh, similar to the reason of why Kevin can’t operate his god given nostrils, would remain unsolved.
