I awoke with a start, a cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I cringed as my mind ran through the terrifying images that remained from the nightmare I’d witnessed seconds ago.1
A tall figure stood over my body, which was curled up in pain on the cold ground. He wore a hood, masking his face in darkness; making it impossible to identify him. In his hand was a staff about his height with a luminescent green gem attached to the end. Little light graced the dank chamber we were in. The land was unfamiliar to me, yet in the dream, I knew it well. With one swift swipe of his staff, the mysterious man stripped me of my gift. This was when I woke up.2
As I tried to calm my breathing, I held out my quivering hands and concentrated. I felt a need to check, to reassure myself. My hand started to tingle as fur sprouted from my ashen skin. Long retractable claws shot out from where my fingernails were. Relief washed over me. I was silly to doubt. I should have known my gift was stronger than some measly nightmare.3
I took a deep breath and concentrated again, this time putting all my effort into it. My bones extended, shortened, bent, and rearranged themselves. I fell down onto all fours. Morphed fully into a cat, I stretched my back into an arch, kneading my paws out in front of me, careful not to tear my sheets.4
It was only then that I noticed the time. I morphed back into my human form and got ready for school as fast as possible. I grabbed my over-stuffed backpack and rushed out the door.5
Snow covered our lawn and was piled on the roof of my uncle’s car. I hadn’t even thought to check the weather. I quickly nipped back inside, grabbed my coat and slipped on my boots.6
It was times like these that I wished people could know about my gift. It would be so useful to simply morph into a cheetah and sprint the whole way to school. Then I might have a chance of making it. But not even my dear uncle knows about my secret ability. The only people who ever knew were my parents. And they took it with them to the grave when they died on my eighth birthday.7
The halls of J.S. Williams High were empty by the time I got there. I glanced at the hallway clock. Class had started ten minutes ago. I headed to the office to acquire a late slip.8
“Good morning, Felicity,” Sheryl, our school secretary, called out to me as I entered the office.9
“Good morning.” I replied. “May I please have a late slip?” As Sheryl filled out the slip, I eavesdropped. Mr. Dupree, our principle, had left his office door ajar.10
“…I sincerely hope you like it here, Noah. Let me just get Sheryl to find someone to show you around for today.”11
Sheryl handed me the slip and I discretely dashed for the door. Yes, being the typical “good student” had its perks, but the faculties at my school are always asking me for favors. I could only foresee what would happen if Mr. Dupree came out and I was standing right there. There would be no evading a day with the new kid. It’s not that I don’t want him to feel welcome. I just don’t take kindly to people staring at me, which they inevitably will if I’m landed with a new student.12
Just as my hand reached out for the door handle, I heard Mr. Dupree call my name. “Felicity! Just the person I wanted to see.”13
I turned slowly to face him and the new student who towered at least a foot over our petite principle.14
“Yes, Mr. Dupree?” I replied.15
“Could you show Noah around for today,” he said, pointing to the new student beside him. “Just show him to his classes and such.”16
“Yeah, sure, Mr. Dupree.” I said, trying to hide my distaste for the situation.17
“Excellent.” Mr. Dupree turned to Noah, handing him a form, “Noah, have all your teachers sign this and bring it back to Sheryl,” he gestured to the plump lady sitting behind the reception desk, “at the end of the day.”18
Noah nodded. Mr. Dupree returned to his office and Noah took that as his cue to walk over to me. He held out his hand for me to shake, politely. I shook it, taken aback by his good manners. “Nice to meet you, Felicity.”19
“You too.” I said, shyly. “Do you have a schedule?”20
“Yes.” He said, pulling it out of his messenger bag. “Here it is.”21
I glanced at his first period teacher. “Mr. Callahan.” I read out loud. 22
“Follow me.” I lead him down the abnormally wide halls, at least for a school of only about a hundred students, “You’ll only make it for the last ten minutes...but at least you’ll know where to go next time.” I stopped in front of classroom number seven. “I’ll meet you here at the end of the period.”23
“Okay.” He said, watching me turn to go. “Hey,” he called as I rounded the corner.24
I turned to look at him. He gave me an honest smile, making his face light up entirely, “thanks.”25
All of a sudden, I was glad Noah had become my shadow. I couldn’t fathom why, but I genuinely meant it when I said, “you’re welcome.”26
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