Days Go By.

Chapter 6: Starting a new.

AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter starts off in the third person then returns to the first. 

On a busy city street a small, scrappy tabby cat licks the last bits of greasy garbage meat from  it's paws. The flea ridden feline walks down the grimy alley onto the cracked white sidewalk. She stops and waits at a mail box that sits next to the side door of a gas station. It's not long before a man leaves, letting the door swing closed and the cat gets a glimpse of the dirty bathroom inside. The tabby makes her move, trotting inside as the door slams shut behind her. A soft purr rumbles in the cat's throat as she stretches her back legs on the dirty tiles, pressing her paws on the white surface. Day in and day out she has walked on hard asphalt and sharp gravel. Her sore, tired paws rarely get to enjoy the cool relief of smooth tile. The cat sits in front of an outdated sink and blows a cloud of black smoke as her body grows warmer than it ever has before and her ears fill with a strange sound. The animals small pointed ears filled with the sound of shifting hair and lengthening bones. The scrappy cat was gone and  and standing in front if the mirror stood a teen aged girl. 

I looked back at myself, my new face. I'm paler than before and my hair is no longer black, it's a raggedy brown with tabby stripes. It reminds me of being a cat.  I looked at my new reflection, I was happy with my work. I was a little taller and my waist was a little smaller, giving me a tall thin stature.  I spun in front of the mirror and took it all in, it feels like only yesterday I was home with my family. Now I am alone and have no idea where I am. I took a look at the ugly striped hair and frowned. It really was ugly, so I gathered it up in my hands and dropped it over my right shoulder. "How do I get rid of it?" I ask myself, at least my voice hasn't changed as much as my hair. It only sounds a little more mature and maybe sadder. I gasp at my reflection. What is wrong with my mouth?!  Slowly I open my mouth. My tongue is pale, skinny and covered in rough bumps. I have a cat's tongue. Maybe i'm not as good with generating a new body as I thought I would be.  I think hard and try to focus on only my tongue. The bumps recede and my tongue grows wider, now looking normal. I run my finger through my hair and it returns to it's normal black. I purse my lips, It doesn't really match me anymore. I gather the hair up and run my hands through it once more and it turns white as snow, just like my grandmother's.  I think it suits me better. I now try to focus on clothes as I'm wearing none. Wherever I am, they dress very differently from the people back home.  I concentrate and create the tight pants and red plaid tank top I had seen a girl wearing before I entered the bathroom. I miss my old clothes and decide to add black laces going up my back and a few on the chest of my shirt, just like my old tan dress. I look completely different from my old, plain self. I stand out now, and I like it. Why not stand out a little more? I laugh to myself, instantly my lips turn black.  I smile, shaking out my new white hair and leaving the dirty tiled room.  The blinding light, blaring noise and strange smells assault my senses making me gasp and nearly faint. What is this strange place? What are these strange things?  I need answers. My feet travel down the hard, cracked pathways until I see a boy who is a  little younger than I am. I tug at the sleeve of his denim jacket and he turns to face me.

"Hello, what do you want?" He already seems rude.

"What year is this?" I ask plainly although he stares at me as if I were a two headed talking squirrel. Thankfully, I know I am  not one of those.

"Nineteen ninety four, what other year would it be?"  1994! Oh Goddess I've been away from my body for  six hundred and thirty five years?! 

"Where am I?!" I cry in fear and disbelief. The boy looks almost scared.

"New York city?" The way he says is it is very unsure, I'm unsure if he's unsure of my character or his own location.  He is about  to say more but hesitates when he notices my bare feet.