The Hunt For Freedom
By Sariya Chaton
Date: November 17, 2021
Ch. 3Scared


She took a deep breath and continued listing my abilities, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet or not, but werecats are typically quick learners and very agile. You have always been good at school and sports. And…” she paused here and narrowed her eyes, “After today’s behavior you are obviously able to transfer your thoughts….that was completely unacceptable by the way!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn't know it would really work.” I let my real feelings out, “Now I will ever know if I would have won on my own. That Championship Title will always be tainted.”

Looking away and willing my tears to stop threatening to spill, I tried to think of something else, something positive. I had noticed that most things came easily to me. Embarrassingly enough, I was pretty quick to point out my greatness to others. Humbleness had not entered my vocabulary. I had an advantage over the human kids and that was a sour pill to swallow. I wonder how I would rank with kids that had werecat blood. After all, I was only half werecat.

I could have added to Momma’s list but I didn’t really think that not sleeping at night, or loving fish would be considered an ability. I certainly didn’t mention how I love to sneak out at night for no other reason than to prowl around the park and climb trees. I could have told her how I only ever wanted milk for meals, or how climbing trees calmed me and made me feel safe. I didn’t mention any of these things, instead I thought, “What a whack job!”

The kids in my school always ignored me anyway, they thought I was weird. It didn’t bother me though. I like being in my own company and never saw the need for a friend. None of the other kids could keep up anyway. Even the girls from the gym were irritating with all their fears. I often inwardly sneered when a skill scared them. I would use their fear to press my advantage. Coach loved my fearless attitude and little by little I was becoming the star. I adored the attention I received when I excelled. I could have cared less that not one of them considered me a friend….I could sure use a friend now.

I looked up at Momma with big pleading eyes. I finally felt the fear I ridiculed the others for. “Please find out more momma, I’m scared.”

As I lay there going over all this, I realized I was scared. I did not want to be the freak. What if I became a cat right in front of everyone at school? I longed to go back in time even one day, where I thought I was a great little human. Never again would I be able to think the same on this. I would have to hide my non human abilities from curious eyes. My stomach was in knots as I thought of all that meant. I snuggled in closer and tried to fall asleep. Momma went right on rubbing my back, and for this night I stayed home.
My eighth birthday came and went that summer without any word from any distant relatives. I played thought transfer games with Mom in the car a lot. It was good practice and I was gaining control and range. My brothers thought I was just getting weirder and weirder when I would suddenly just laugh out loud for no apparent reason. Controlling my reactions was another challenge that would need practice.

Sometimes I would put thoughts into my brothers’ heads just to make Mom laugh. Once I had Darius tell Mom that he was in the mood for tuna casserole for dinner, a meal he would not eat even if his life was at stake. Mom knew what I was doing but played along. She asked him if he would like crab cakes for dessert, my absolute favorite, and it would snap him out of it. The poor boys were the victims of so many of my childish pranks and they never had a clue.

My brothers are Darius and Derrick, ten year old identical twins. They have light brown hair like Dad and they wear it long and wavy. All the little girls think they are so cute with their dark green eyes. They are ok, as far as brothers go, but thankfully they are so into each other they rarely have time to bother me. They are really into designing and constructing buildings, and constantly have some type of building set scattered all over the house. I have been caught sneaking into their room numerous times after screaming out in pain stepping on those horrible torturous toys. Maybe they do it on purpose.

I know they get a little frustrated with me because I understand their homework before they do. Long division didn’t seem so hard. Every day I would hear them whining about their homework, so when they weren’t around I peaked at their math books. When I tried to show them how to make the problems easier, they lost it!

“You're just a baby, you don’t know what you're talking about!” They screamed at me. Insult after insult they raged. I pretended to be hurt just to make them stop, but inside I was smiling.

Later, when I showed Mom their math problems she told me I had gotten them all correct. She also told me not to let on how easy school was for me, but I could tell she was intrigued. She showed me some cool problems with letters in them. Those were fun too. Somehow all those numbers and letters just made sense to me. They were like a puzzle, and I loved puzzles. I discovered I wanted more of a challenge. All they did in my class was practice adding and subtracting.
Mom got a funny look on her face when I told her that I like to draw during math.



Comments
SettingsX
Font
Font size
Font color
Line spacing
Background color