by Lewis, D. C.
The Watcher noticed that Kiera was driving a shiny new vehicle. It surmised that this must have been the purpose of the impromptu vacation. Remembering back to the ravaged form of Kiera those nights past, The Watcher figured her car would be unsalvageable, the smell of blood being so strong that evening that even the worst of noses could have smelled it with ease.
"So close!" The Watcher thought. "I was so close to ending this!"
Feeling the rage start to revive itself, The Watcher quickly changed thoughts, trying to focus more on its current environment, listening for sounds of others of its kind. The Watcher knew there was a patrol a mile ahead and would evade it without any issue, swiftly slipping around it, making as much noise as a light breeze in deep space; a ghost, neither seen nor heard, that just seems to fade away into the night, passing so quickly you'd think you imagined it.
As was its normal routine, The Watcher veered off its current path as the Hemming home loomed into view. Breaking through the patrol's perimeter proved as easy as The Watcher had expected, causing The Watcher to wonder if Katrina knew just how ineffective were the Lycoans guarding her. It seriously doubted it.
Passing the spot where it had previously spent so many evenings, The Watcher could still smell the strong aroma of garbage making its way from the clearing. It would be weeks before the smell went away, especially with the hot summer baking the leftovers each and every day, the inedible morsels lying in various spots throughout the area, saturated in the stench of garbage, just waiting to release their foul odor when disturbed from their resting spot. The Watcher had come across skunks less potent.
The Watcher's new lookout point wasn't optimal. It felt overly exposed but at the same time, it figured that nobody would think to look for anything there either. Sitting on the fringe of the forest, The Watcher engaged all its senses before it made its dash across the open expanse of the Hemming backyard. This was the part that it disliked the most, being out in the open for this period of time. While it was confident that nobody was watching, it could never be one hundred percent positive.
In a blinding flash of speed, it crossed the grassy distance, its claws piercing the soft loam, giving it traction as each stride propelled it closer to its destination, the grass thick enough to cover up any signs of its passing. Within moments it arrived at the boathouse and entered through the unlocked door, the soft pads of its paws making no noise on the wooden planks as it silently closed the door behind it.
Nothing and no one would think to look for it here, and with the exception of an ornery juvenile possum, it had come across no other life forms at its new spot. It wondered if the possum had already left for its night excursions. As The Watcher moved to the window in the back of the boathouse, an annoyed hiss answered that question.
Twenty-Eight
Pacing her bedroom in anticipation, Kiera both looked forward to and dreaded the arrival of her friends. She looked forward to it because it had been weeks since she had last seen them. She had taken for granted the past nine months where she had been able to see them every day, either in class or just hanging out in her dorm. Kiera had wanted to have her own apartment as opposed to the communal living of a dorm, sharing a room with someone she didn't know, but University policy required Freshmen to live on campus. Kiera found the policy utterly ridiculous, especially when the University tried to justify it with the lame excuse of its "allowing Freshmen to be able to engage in the full college experience." Kiera knew that in actuality, it just provided the University with extra revenue both from the expenses of living on campus and also from requiring dorm residents to have a meal plan. It wasn't the money that bothered her, she had plenty of that, it was the principle. Once again, some entity other than herself was trying to control her decisions, and she couldn't seem to escape it. Begrudgingly, she did have to admit that she was glad she lived in the dorm. Even though her roommate Rebecca was incredibly bitchy (Kiera had secretly named her Rebitcha), she was never there, instead spending the nights with her boyfriend who was an upperclassman and had his own place. And living on campus had helped Kiera to meet people she otherwise wouldn't have.
Her first impression of Lara wasn't a positive one. There was just something about her intentional airheadedness that got under Kiera's skin, not to mention that she was also blonde which really gave credence to the "all blondes are dumb" stereotype. It annoyed Kiera no end, especially since she had dealt with that ignorant stereotype all her life. Lara was also very girly, the first one to scream because a bug had come within fifty feet of her, or cower and make a scene like she was helpless and in need of comforting during a horror movie. Kiera knew that these were behaviors designed to get one thing - attention, and with this realization came insight. Lara had low self-esteem and it manifested itself in these silly behaviors that Lara thought were cute but were really having the opposite effect and causing people to avoid her. Guys initially thought it was cute, but when they realized how frequently she acted like this and that she was incredibly clingy and needed to be reassured about everything, they turned tail and ran as quickly as possible when they saw her coming.
It was during one such outburst that Kiera had had her fill and proceeded to tell Lara just what she thought about the whole thing and how ridiculous it was. Lara cried and Kiera felt bad. She knew she had gone too far in her admonishment but once the levee broke, the river flooded and she had said the things that had been building for weeks. It was out of character for Kiera to do this, to speak her mind in such a way, but an overwhelming compulsion to do so wouldn't let it rest. Lara tried avoiding Kiera after that, not even making eye contact when they passed each other on campus between classes. When it got to the point that Lara would leave a room that Kiera entered, Kiera had enough and confronted her. While she didn't apologize about what she said, she did apologize about how she said it. Lara listened with her head bowed as Kiera continued, telling Lara how she knew that there was an awesome person lurking beneath the facade of this helpless little girl. And how people would respect and accept her so much more if she only respected and accepted herself for who she was. She reached forward and gave Lara a hug, Lara began to cry, a stream of tears practically drenching the front of Kiera's shirt, sobs racking her entire body. Kiera knew she had hit on something, she wasn't exactly sure what, but Lara had a sensitive spot hiding somewhere. But Kiera decided not to pry, it would reveal itself in its own time.
Taking a step back, Kiera looked at Lara's tear streaked face, her eyes puffy and snot running freely from her nose.
"You look a mess," Kiera blurted out without thinking.
Just as it seemed that Lara was going to regress into another fit of crying, Kiera, her mind racing, said, "Though I doubt I look much better. What do you say to a trip to the spa and getting a facial? My treat."
Timidly lifting her head, Lara met Kiera's eyes with hers for the first time in months.
"Well, if you twist my arm," she said, smiling meekly.
Laughing, Kiera gave her another hug, grabbed her hand, and they were off to the spa where Kiera treated Lara and herself to the full treatment. From that day forward, they were inseparable, to the point where they were planning on getting an apartment together the next year. Little did Lara know that Kiera had already leased a place and had paid for it in full. As much as they had talked about it and as much as Lara wanted to live off campus, Kiera knew that Lara would in no way be able to afford it. It was all her parents could do to pay what financial aid wouldn't cover for tuition. While she wasn't frivolous, Kiera didn't mind spending money on things she considered important, and this was such a case. Even if Katrina were to somehow get her wish and Kiera didn't go back to school, Lara would still have this place for the next year, if not longer.
The rest of the group coming to visit was very eclectic. The petite Lyndsey, the Japanese immigrant, with her long dark hair, barely five feet tall, who spoke English better than most Americans. She enjoyed exposing her friends to her native cuisine. About once a week
they would meet at her parents' house, located about fifteen minutes from campus, to try authentic Japanese dishes. Luckily for Kiera, the dishes typically contained a lot of meat so she didn't have to be too concerned about her dietary requirements. Over the past nine months she had eaten Kakuni, Yakibuta, Karaage, Tonkatsu, and various other dishes that she couldn't pronounce, and at times, wondered what they were made of.
It was also a pleasure to go over to Lyndsey's for dinner, not simply because the food was good, but to watch the interaction between her and her parents. Being the only person in the household who spoke English, Lyndsey had to act as the translator between her friends and her parents. It was always amazing to Kiera how quickly Lyndsey could switch from Japanese to English and back, seemingly with no difficulty. Her parents were very welcoming and respectful, always smiling and talking to you, as if they thought that if they talked enough, you would automatically understand Japanese. At first this made Kiera very uncomfortable, but once she realized that they in truth didn't really expect her to understand and respond, she relaxed, enjoying the rhythmic quality to their speech. Kiera and the rest of her friends would play a game that involved coming up with their own interpretations of Lyndsey’s parents conversations, frequently being correct.
One thing that really impressed Kiera was how respectful Lyndsey and her parents were. Lyndsey explained that honor was an important part of Japanese culture and to be dishonored was as good as being dead, even in this era. Lyndsey and her parents were practicing Buddhists and believed in being good to those around you, in respecting all life, and in helping those in need. These were all philosophies that Kiera could easily adopt and in some ways already had over the course of her life. Even though religion had never been a part of her upbringing, she could easily see herself practicing the Way of Buddhism, and hid those secrets in her heart, vowing to explore further once she got away from the influence of Katrina, since she knew her mother would consider it a waste of time.
The last girl in the group was Hilary, the overweight girl from the Midwest. Her parents owned a dairy that had been in her family for generations. She was very kind and down to earth, a representation of her upbringing. Outsiders would label her as the "fat friend" that hung off the group's coattails, just wanting to be included. Little did they know how independent she was, that she never lacked company of her own accord. She was a closet lesbian, only recently coming out to her close group of friends. While Kiera was happy that Hilary had finally felt comfortable enough around them to admit her sexuality, she was also saddened because she knew that Hilary's family would never understand or accept their only daughter's lifestyle. They would never get to know the real Hilary. Kiera felt that this would be something Hilary would always struggle with, finally shrugging it off as a phase she went through in college, marrying and having children, but always feeling like something was missing in her life. Sacrificing herself and her feelings for the benefit of her family wasn't a very happy future, and one that Kiera desperately hoped she was wrong about.
Pete was a good ole Southern boy, having grown up on a tobacco farm in Georgia. He was tall and good-looking. His light brown hair already showing signs of receding, a trait he inherited from his father. He always complained that you were supposed to get your hair genes from your mother's side of the family, that his mother's grandfather had a full head of hair until he died at 101, and her dad was 89 with the hairline of a 15-year-old. He now said that theory was a bunch of "hogwash". He was good-natured and immediately hit it off with Hilary, their upbringings being similar enough that they could carry on conversations where nobody else knew what they were talking about. It would have been easy to dismiss Pete as unintelligent when you heard him speak in his thick Southern drawl. This would have been a mistake. He was easily the smartest one in the group, having nearly scored perfect on his SATs and easily holding a 4.0 average in college. He was the first member of his family to attend college. One night while they were at Lyndsey's parents' house, he made the observation that girls with Southern accents were considered cute, but guys with Southern accents were considered dumb. When Kiera thought about it, she realized he was correct and how this was just another of the ridiculous stereotypes that permeated the country. Pete was the type of guy you wanted to have around. He was always fun and interesting to talk to. If he saw you do even the most complex task even once, he could usually replicate it. If you got stuck on a deserted island, he was the guy you would want to have with you.
Kiera knew that Lyndsey had a crush on Pete and secretly suspected that they were seeing each other, at the very least having drunken hookups since they always managed to conveniently leave parties at exactly the same time. Kiera thought they would make a cute couple - very different, but cute. Kiera had been wanting to tease Pete about engaging in "foreign relations" but the opportunity hadn't presented itself. She looked forward to seeing his reaction.
Alan was also a Southerner but his childhood was night and day from Pete's. Having a black father and white mother was a taboo in his hometown. Alan was born with an almost cream-colored complexion, in some ways looking more Italian than black or white. It was the vehicle for a lifetime of discrimination. "I am too white for black people, and too black for white people," he commented one evening when talking about his childhood. He had come to college to escape small town intolerance, finding acceptance and purpose in a liberal college environment. When he had first met Pete and found out that he was also from The South, he was very hesitant and guarded, fearing that childhood traumas would repeat themselves, but Pete quickly won Alan over, once again disproving a stereotype. They were frequently seen together, even joining an intramural bowling league that played every Tuesday.
Alan was a gifted artist and writer. Right on the spot, he could come up with the most amazing stories that seemed so real you felt you had lived them. His English professor had encouraged him to put those ideas on paper and to try go get some work published. Up to this point Alan had been resistant, not believing that his work was good enough to be distributed to the masses. Pete had talked about "borrowing" some of Alan's work and having it published for him, since he would never do it on his own.
There was a sadness hiding behind Alan's hazel eyes, something that would almost bubble to the surface but never quite fully form. Kiera noticed that humor was his defensive mechanism, always cracking a joke when things became too serious, sending the group into gales of laughter but more importantly, causing them to forget what they were talking about.
Each of these people was important to Kiera in their own special way. She felt an exaggerated sense of protectiveness, encouraged by their seeming need to always defer to her. Kiera made the plans, Kiera organized, Kiera told them what to do. While this responsibility could be incredibly frustrating, Kiera did enjoy certain aspects of it and it filled her with a sense of purpose and responsibility, important to someone who felt they were losing control of their own life.
Even with the excitement of being reunited with these special people, Kiera had an overwhelming sense of dread. There were so many reasons to cancel this trip. For starters, Kiera was concerned how her mother would react to her friends. It was very rare that Kiera invited people to her mother's house, even rarer that it was more than one. Kiera knew that Katrina would see these people as the enemy. These were encouraging Kiera to follow her dreams and hang on to the vestiges of humanity - so important to her - and not take her "rightful" spot by Katrina's definition
In truth, these thoughts only masked her true feelings, by focusing on them, she allowed herself to temporarily deny the true reasons she was feeling dread. She would have to go out in the dark again and she hadn't done that since the night of her attack. While she had fully recovered from the event with no physical signs of the altercation, the emotional scars had persisted. When Kiera allowed herself the opportunity to analyze it, she realized that it wasn't the fear of being attacked that had her upset, it was the fear of changing again, especially in front
of her friends. Since that night she had felt as if a part of her, long dormant, had finally awakened. Adding even more anxiety to this problem, she felt complete, for the first time in her life a whole person, and to her dismay it felt good. But would her friends notice the change? Would they know she had turned into a monster? Did she look different? Act different? Even smell different? Would they see her and immediately reject her because she wasn't like them?
The irony was almost funny. On the outside she looked the most normal. She embodied what society said was attractive. Looks, personality, and wealth were all things that came easily to her. But in actuality, she was the most different of anyone in the entire group. She was a different species altogether, a species truly wanting to live as and be human. The hypocrisy of the situation was overwhelming, to the point where all Kiera could do was laugh at herself. For a brief second she allowed herself to live the fiction that her friends would accept her anyway, that no matter who or what she was, they would welcome her and see her for the person she was so desperately trying to be. It was a nice thought but one she doubted would become reality.
All these thoughts were moot at this point. Her group of friends was only forty-five minutes away. Perhaps she should have listened to her mother and cancelled the whole trip but the thought of giving into Katrina was more than she could bear. Not to mention that her friends had really been looking forward to this, and she would hate to disappoint them.
