Part-Time Griffin

Unsuspicious

It's as if I never left my house.
The same smell fills my home. The TV is murmuring here in the living room. The air conditioning is purring from the vents. The same decor still adorns the walls, and that random little blue bird figurine still sits there on the hearth. Nothing at all has changed in my absence.
Considering everything that has happened since yesterday evening when I was last here, I feel like it has been many eons since I've been in my own house.
Mom passes by with a clothes basket full of dirty laundry, "Hey, how'd you're sleepover with Roxanne go?"
I already have everything planned out. There's nothing to worry about, but I'll still feel that edge of guilt when I lie to my parents.
I smile back, "It went great. We had lots of fun. But the jet ski ran out of gas and her family didn't have any gas for their boat either. So Roxanne brought me back."
She furrows her eyebrows, "Well, that's not good. We'll have to go and get some gas for it later. Then I can drive you to Roxanne's so you can drive it back to our dock."
Mom then continues toward the laundry room. I hold my steady smile, and then release it when she's out of sight. A heavy feeling of dread fills me.
I... how am I going to confront Roxanne after what happened last night?
At least she doesn't know that I'm one of the animals her brothers were shooting at. All she knows is that she locked me in her basement and I somehow escaped. But that is bad enough in itself.
The next time we meet each other it is going to be very awkward. I don't look forward to it.
A quick shiver runs through me, and my mind goes back to this morning's events. A sly smile creeps across my face as I think about how my crush just told me that he liked me a few minutes ago.
I go find Mom in the laundry room. She's currently dumping the clothes in the washing machine. My black cat struts up to me and starts rubbing up against my leg. I quickly bend down to pet her.
I clear my throat and then begin, "One of my friends is having a cookout tomorrow, and they invited me to come. Do you think it would be okay if I went?"
"Sure, honey. Who's hosting it?" She turns to me.
I bite my lip, "Well, you've never met him before. His name is Diesel. I recently became friends with him."
She raises an eyebrow. Not in suspicion, but surprise. My mom knows well that I don't mix with the opposite gender. I've never had any friends who were guys, and I've never had a boyfriend either. I'll talk to a guy in my class if we're working on a group project or if I'm answering a simple question for them, but nothing beyond that.
"I'd like to meet him." Mom tells me.
I nod, "He's coming by tomorrow so you can meet him, and then I'll follow him back to his house in my car."
She then says, "Dad will want to meet him too."
"I know." I reply then turn around and head to my room.
Asking if I can go to a friend's house seems like such a simple task compared to all that has happened lately. Finding out your friend is the bad guy, getting kidnapped, and being shot in the back makes asking permission from my parents seem like child's play.
As I walk into my room, the bullet wound in my back seems to gnaw away at me. It throbs and aches, but it could be worse. A normal human would be in horrible pain if they were in my position right now.
Yeah, I definitely don't feel like having a nighttime excursion tonight. I'll have to make it look like I'm not here so my parents don't get suspicious. If they see me here, they'll immediately know something's up, because I will go out even in rain and snow. The only time I don't go out is when I'm not allowed to or if there's a dangerous storm outside. I never ever get sick so that wouldn't be a reason for me to stay here either.
This is why I have to make it seem like I'm out on my nightly adventure so I don't raise any suspicion from my parents. I've done enough dangerous things in the past two weeks to give both of them a heart attack.
I hate all these lies!
For the next hour, I'm busy, but I'm really just making myself look busy. Walking around and arranging my room to make it appear that I am hard at cleaning.
My room is what you would call unique, original, and personalized. There isn't a theme or any cute color coding going on. Just different, but that's because I have made it that way.
The walls are a faint light blue and the carpet is an off-white color that almost has a creme hue to it. My bed has a zebra patterned comforter on it. I've had it since I was eleven, but I'm too stubborn to replace it because I can't find any other bedspreads that are as soft as that one. Whenever I get tired of zebra stripes I'll flip it over so that the black side shows. Right now neither the black side nor zebra print can be seen because I have a huge blanket spread over my bed. On the the thick blanket is a tiger laying in the jungle.
I have a special taste. I have always loved animals, and that has been expressed by having many animalistic things in my room. A little fox figurine sits on my desk, and a wolf calendar hangs beside my door. A small leopard print rung lies at the entrance of my room. A five-inch tall dragon stands on top of my dresser as if on special guard duty. Pictures of animals dot my walls in random places. A few mythical creatures can be spotted with them as well.
Yeah, my room is not themed or a magazine-worthy work of art.
Some people see my room and make comments about how I need to grow up. I'm sixteen. Not a tween. But I don't care. I like it this way, and no one ever comes into my room much anyway. I enjoy my animal pictures, and it's going to be staying that way for as long as I live here.
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An hour later, my dad comes home from getting groceries. I mention to him about Diesel's party, and like I had expected he asks plenty of questions.
Dad knows as well as Mom that I don't mix with guys much, and this naturally raises a few questions from him. I explain that Diesel's a nice guy, and that he will come by tomorrow so that he can meet my family.
After a long moment of pondering, Dad nods his head and says that I can go. I internally celebrate this moment.
__________________
The rest of my day is filled with randomness. Mostly checking Instagram and listening to music.
I don't fail to notice that Roxanne hasn't posted anything since Friday night. She usually posts at least once every day.
It only makes me think about her though. Questions buzz in my head. I know the answers to some of these questions, but I still doubt them nonetheless.
I also dread the next time I'll see her.
Oh, no! That reminds me! I have to get my jet ski from Roxanne's dock some time soon. I guess Mom forgot about how I told her it 'needed' more gas. I'll get it tomorrow night when-
My thoughts are cut short as a short knock is heard at my door.
"What?" I ask as the door opens slowly.
Felicity proceeds in with a rush. The door automatically closes behind her with a jerk of her arm. She then lands facedown on my bed.
I pull out the earbuds that had been in my ears. Then I turn off the music playing through them.
"What's... up?" I question confusedly.
She mumbles something into the bed, but it sounds more like a bunch of muffled phrases.
I snort as I look down at her, "I'm sorry, but can you mumble that again, Felicity."
She raises her head replying, "It's been a few days now... Guess I'm not gonna be a mythical creature then."
I frown, "Is that all that has been on your mind?"
"Kinda."
Memories of last night's episode flashes through my mind. My destiny, or a portion of my destiny, is slowly coming together. Apparently, my destiny involves an uncertain best friend and getting shot in the back, literally.
Does Felicity want a life like that? An uncertain destiny that might possess danger and physical struggles. She doesn't know that with being a shapeshifter comes a certain destiny. With that destiny comes responsibility and a struggle to fulfill what your destiny holds for you. 'With great power comes great responsibility.' It's not just a reference. It's a true fact.
"Felicity... if you are meant to just be yourself then that is what's meant to happen. Not to be a mythical creature." I tell my little sister.
She gives me a confused look.
I shake my head, "Things happen sometimes. We don't always understand those things, but they happen for a reason. This- becoming a shifter- hasn't occurred because you're destined to use your skills as a normal person."
"So your saying that being normal and boring is what I'm always going to be?" Felicity growls disappointedly.
I roll my eyes, "No. When I said normal I meant staying the way you are. Not becoming a freak like me. Felicity, you are so much smarter than I was when I was your age. You're going to go places and do great things in your life one day. You don't have to be a shapeshifter to do those amazing things. You'll be doing incredible things either way."
Please, understand!
I don't want Felicity to face danger the way I had last night. Being on death's door isn't something I want for her.
Plus, I'm also sure that some top secret government lab would love to study someone like me. I don't want Felicity to live a life in fear of being discovered and hunted by crazy scientists.
I've never had to deal with that certain issue, but knowing my unusual life it could happen any time soon.
What I've said to Felicity seems to cheer her up some. Hopefully, this will be the last conversation between us about this whole shapeshifting business.
We talk for a while longer and then Felicity leaves in a better mood than when she came in my room.
My clock says that it's five minutes after nine. My family will be going to sleep here in a second. They'll think I'm on my nightly outing, but I'll actually be here at home.
When they are all in their rooms, I turn off my bedroom lights and open my door. Usually, when my door is open that is a sign to my parents that I'm gone.
Instead, of going outside I walk back to my dark closet. The floor of my closet is cleared away from my cleaning earlier today.
I then proceed to go inside and sit in the floor. Once situated, I pull out my phone, turn down its brightness, and play on it.
I'm in my closet because if I just sit in my room my parents might see me and then they'll start asking why I'm here at home. They know that I'd rather be outside than inside any day.
Too bad my back still hurts some.
Earlier today, I got to see how bad my back looked. The wound on my back has healed majorly. The hole where the bullet made its mark has closed, but it still hurt nonetheless.
Diesel and I agreed to not do anything tonight since I needed to rest. But I still feel like he went out alone tonight in case anything was to happen in town.
I don't see what the point is anymore. We're not helping much. All we've managed to do so far is chase my best friend and her family around town. We need to do some real action or we're going to let this slip away from us.
But real action requires danger, and danger sometimes requires getting hurt.
It has happened once so far. Are we ready for that again? Are we willing to risk ourselves once more?