Silken Scales - The Chameleon Effect

4 - Cadi

The alarm clock buzzes. Six a.m. I wake from half-sleep and a memory, a puzzle piece from my past that's haunted me for as long as I can remember. In a misty place, a hand clenches mine. My voice screams, "Dre!" as that hand is torn away.


The sense of fear and loss fades, and I'm distracted by an itch in the center of my chest. Fingers zero in on the irritation and find a lump. I imagine a bloated tick drilling its teeth into me. A scream builds in my chest as I bolt upright and yank on my tank top. 


My pendant is stuck to my skin, not a bloodsucking insect. The stranglehold on my throat loosens. The stone must have spent the night pressed against my chest. I slide fingers around the crystal, eager to dislodge it, and feel resistance. I pull and a tingly burn flares.


What is it with this thing?


I gaze down at the dip between my boobs and realize the stone has come free of the necklace, its silvery bail hanging loose from the chain.


Pursing my lips, I dig fingernails along the stone's edge, determined to remove it. Pain prickles through my skin, creating a hot spot against my breastbone. The crystal glows, sending heat into my fingertips until I'm forced to release them.


I hop out of bed. How do I get this thing off me? I wave my arms frantically while dancing a crazy jig. Fingers turn into claws as I prepare to wrestle the crystal off my body.


A flare of coolness rushes outward from my chest, freezing me in my manic dance, and an otherworldly calm takes over. My shoulders relax and my fingers drop. Fear flutters away like falling leaves from a tree, and a message, gentle but insistent, repeats in the recesses of my mind. I won't hurt you. I belong.


After a dozen deep breaths, I'm calm and feel okay about the implanted crystal, though I still think it's super weird. Too weird to tell anyone about. As if one secret wasn't enough. Now I have two.


My foster families' reactions to my abilities have run the gamut from thinking me dangerous to wanting to involve me in illegal exploits. One dad suggested a bank robbery.


What is up with me, anyway? I've read about telekinesis, that it's thought to be a bunch of hooey. But mine's definitely real. I'm guessing the idea of a crystal sinking into one's chest and sending telepathic messages would get the same response. Total BS.


Brow scrunched, I head for the bathroom to study the stone in the mirror. This should be freaking me out, but a hum from the crystal maintains my equilibrium. Eyes stray to my face. Yesterday's greenish tinge has gone, replaced by pale pink. I look completely normal. Except for the crystal sinking into my chest.


I strip and step into the shower. Hot water makes me glow and the feeling of wellness pervades. A foreign but pleasing sensation washes over me, a feeling of companionship, of not being alone.


With a puzzled shake of the head, I dress and gather my school books.


Dean and Shri have been at the farm since five o'clock, helping Papa milk the goats. They're both seniors like me and have worked at the farm since the beginning of last summer. I guess Dean needs the work, but Shri stays on because she's thinking about studying veterinary medicine.


Backpack slung over a shoulder, I gulp down a glass of goat milk and snag three homemade breakfast bars from the Victorian cookie jar on the kitchen counter. I hand a bar each to Dean and Shri as we pile into the backseat of Papa's old Suburban. With his broad shoulders, Dean fills his third of the seat.

He was tall and skinny when he first came here. Now he's all muscle from the heavy lifting. Shri pushes in after me and drops her backpack on the floor between scuffed combat boots.