While the other kids were counting on their fingers, I pretended to be working in my workbook. Truthfully I was sketching. I had some cool pictures in that workbook, hidden way in the back. I like to draw weather events, uncontrolled power unleashed on unsuspecting souls. I liked hurricanes and tornadoes the best. I loved the power a storm generated. The inevitable destruction it would cause was fun to try to put on paper. Sometimes I would see a storm raging in my mind and I could barely draw fast enough to get all the details on the blank page. Thankfully, I got my math problems right so my teacher never looked at the other pages. Mom, however, asked to see my workbook, and when I showed her, her eyes got really big!

“You did these?” She sounded so shocked. I didn’t know whether to be hurt or amused.

“Yes, we never get cool weather like that here, so I have to draw it to see it.” I explained.

“These are really detailed,” she stated, “How did you know how to draw them?”

“I’m not sure, they are just in my head. Even though I know I haven’t been anywhere like this, it just seems like I have. Like drawing a memory.” As I explained this, Mom started to look a little uneasy.

“I think we need to think about homeschooling you. You are too advanced for your age and someone is bound to start asking questions.” She looked scared, actually, she looked terrified.

“Is it bad to be smart Mom?” I stammered. I wasn’t understanding this at all. Should I pretend to be slow so as to not draw attention. Would my whole life be a constant hiding of who I am?

“No, honey, it’s not bad to be smart. If there were more of our kind it would be normal. Here, with all the humans, you stand out. I don’t want anyone looking too closely at you, you don’t have the maturity to hide your feline ways sometimes.”

As she spoke, I happened to be extracting my claws, preening as if they were newly painted nails. It felt so good to do that, like a good stretch. She looked at me and my class with a smirk. I looked at her sheepishly, “ya, I get that. Sorry.”

You shouldn’t have to apologize for just being you. But people fear what they do not understand. Werecats are just legends, things for comic books and movies. Humans have no idea how real we are, or werewolves, vampires, or dragons.

“So basically, I’m a scary movie to them?” I ask.

“Exactly, and when humans are afraid they do some pretty dumb stuff.”

“What kid of dumb stuff?” I asked. I perked up a little at this news. How bad could it be?

“There are plenty of times in history when a group of people became afraid of another group. Either they are led by a crazy leader, or they just develop a mob mentality, that usually ends with one group trying to get rid of the other group.”

I could tell she was leaving a lot out.

“Like a war?” I asked, trying to get some more information.

“Sometimes wars have been fought because the humans in power wanted to get rid of whatever group they thought threatened their way of life.” Mom wasn’t making any sense.
“Have they ever caught a werecat?” I ask, trying to make this relevant to my situation.
“No, dear, and we want to keep it that way. There are so few of us left anyway.”
With that Mom got up and turned off the light, ending this conversation. I was going to have to pay more attention in history to find out what she was talking about.
“Please find our relatives Mom. I don’t want to be the only one!” I am crying now, this was hard to hear.

By the time the school year started I was no longer enrolled in our local elementary school. Mom told everyone, including Dad, it was for my gymnastic schedule. That was partially true, this year I was skipping a level at the gym and my new hours were extensive. I loved every minute of my time at the gym, but I was away a lot. If we were homeschooling I could get my workouts done in the afternoon before the other kids could get out of school. Not to mention that I would have far less interaction with the other girls this way. They were really not happy that I was skipping levels and getting one on one attention. They had begun to say very mean things when they thought I couldn’t hear. I guess cats have excellent hearing because I heard them all. Needless to say, I was very excited about this development.

Mom and I kept two sets of books. Second grade books that I could show to my Dad, or the teacher the school sent out once a month to make sure I was doing my work. Every four weeks we would sit down with the lovely Mrs. Barnes and talk about what I had learned in that month. She was so pleased that we actually did all our work and were organized when turning it all in she didn’t know what to do. Little did she know that it took me less than a day to do the month’s worth of work.

Then there were my real books. Mom said we could study anything that caught my interest and I was interested in everything!

I finished grade school math by Christmas so we moved on to algebra. I also got to study real science. Chemistry was fun and anatomy was just memorizing, I couldn’t get enough. I added in Spanish and Latin on the internet. School was finally fun. Everything had settled back down in my world and I had begun to put these tales behind me.Then one day, just after the new year started, a letter from Mom’s long last family finally arrived.