To Be A Shifter

Cold. That’s all I could feel as I opened my eyes. Well, that and the annoying sound coming from my alarm clock signaling it was time for me to wake up. I hit the button shutting off the continuous ring and gave myself a moment to reflect on myself. Who was I now? I had a loving family, amazing friends, and everything I could have ever wanted. But that all changed the day I turned sixteen. The day I was deemed a mere human.

You see, we are shifters. In the year 3120, the supernatural world rose and took over the human world. Slowly the humans decreased and the shifters became the dominant races. When people used to think of shifters they would assume it was a human-wolf hybrid that could change with the full moon.

But the humans were very wrong. Shifters are always born human and between their fifteenth and sixteenth birthday, their body would change and transform into their true race. While there are werewolves, shifters could also be many other things. Vampires, werewolves, and witches were by far the most common, while sirens, fairies, and the dreaded angels of the night were more uncommon among the shifting race. The most rare was called the arch angels.

They had beautiful white wings that could fly to the heavens if they chose to. Their skin glowed like the sun and their eyes were white. Everything about them was pure and beautiful. The hell angels find and eliminate these shifters. Only our king, Chase stands with those wings now and after two hundred years they have been considered an extinct race.

I was born into a wolf lineage. My mother and father are both wolf shifters as are my grandparents and so on. My older brother Zac was also blessed with the shifting gene. When I was born I was given the name Amelia Kennedy the daughter of the alpha, Jack Kennedy. But the day I turned sixteen I was outcast and stripped of my name. Unfortunately, I was one of the unlucky few deemed to live as a human.

I waited for my sixteenth birthday hoping to shift. We were taught in school that if you didn’t shift by your sixteenth birthday you were cursed by the gods and we were born without the gene we needed to shift into our true form. while it’s rare the poor people unfortunate enough to endure this are usually killed or outcasts and live their lives as slaves. That night I was moved from my room to the attic and forced to be the slave in the pack house.

Sighing I stopped my mind from wandering further and pulled the thin sheet I use as a blanket off my tiny frame feeling the full force of the frigid air. The attic was bare, with no windows or insulation to keep warm or see the sunshine. I lifted myself to my feet and glanced at the clock. It was almost five in the morning and I had to be quick I couldn’t be late to the pack house or I would be in trouble. I grabbed a shirt with the least amount of tears in it and slipped it on. Even though it was a size small it still swallowed me.

I grabbed the only pair of shoes I had, a pair of beat-up Converse with no laces, and the soles had open spots from almost two years of hard wear on them and carried them in my hand as I tried to get downstairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

Thankfully the house stayed silent when I hit the last step. I pulled the old shoes on my feet and opened the door slipping out and shutting it back in its locked position. I took my time walking in the winter morning air, trying to distract myself from the short walk over to the pack house. Our pack was one of many in northern America.

With over four hundred pack members the kings’ pack was also one of the biggest. We got our name because King Chase himself resided in the neighboring kingdom. His palace was placed between us, the vampire coven on the west and the witches’ den to the south. Where he could be protected the most.

Even though he was the most powerful being compared to us we are stronger in numbers against the angels of night. I could see the pack house in the distance and picked up my pace a bit more ready to at least feel the warmth inside. Opening the door carefully to not wake anyone I moved my way to the kitchen. As I was walking I tried to stretch my muscles and joints. While they protested at the weird motion after a moment they eventually started to loosen a bit making my body feel better before work.

The kitchen was familiar. The stainless appliances were shiny and ready to be used. Even though it was early I had to get started or I wouldn’t be able to finish before the house started getting ready for the day. Every day was the same routine. Make breakfast, clean the kitchen, clean the bedrooms, and most importantly do not speak unless spoken to. Breakfast was the easiest part of the day. I enjoyed cooking even if it was for hundreds of people every day. I used to cook even before I became a slave. Something about making amazing things from scratch or making beautiful pastries made me feel happy inside. At least it used to. Every day I was told to make the same food. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, and pancakes.

As the food was ready I placed it in warmers to line up so the pack could get what they wanted and started the dishes just as seven o’clock rang through the house. Soon the quiet home was filled with the hustle of parents and children making their way to the kitchen for breakfast ready to get to work or school. I washed the dishes and counters off quickly wanting to get out of there before people started to fill in and see me. Most of the time I was ignored which I was grateful for but there are a few people who love to make my life even harder than usual. My brother Zac was one of those people and I wanted to be as far from him as possible.

Finishing the last of the kitchen I thought I was in the clear when I heard the door open swiftly. The smell of cheap perfume and too much of it filled my nose with disgust and I knew exactly who it was. Rebecca. She used to be my best friend before my sixteenth birthday. We would do everything together. Everywhere we went we went together. But she changed on that day and turned into one of my biggest bullies. I can still remember what she said to me that day.

Flashback~

“You don’t feel anything at all?” Rebecca had a sad tone to her voice. I shook my head with tears streaming down my cheeks ruining the makeup she caked on my face for my big day. “I feel like I always do. I didn’t change.” The tears turned to sobs as I held my face in my hands and let out my sorrow. I heard the bed lift and Rebeccas’ heels tap against the wooden floor of my bedroom. “Well, I can’t be friends with a disgusting human. Don’t come near me again or you’ll be sorry.” With that, she left me sobbing in my room. I remember trying to talk to her a few days later and she gave me a scar across my cheek. She hated me.

End flashback~

I touched my cheek at the memory feeling its sloppy raised patches from the improper healing it did. She had gotten me with her wolf nails. From that day I knew she wanted me away from her and I made sure to stay out of her way as much as possible. “Well look what we have here. A filthy human.” I heard the tone in her voice and kept my head down. I really couldn’t take a beating today I was still healing from last time. I could still feel the tender bruises just below my clothes from where Zac and Rebecca had hit me with my broom for not cleaning the floors fast enough. I closed my eyes knowing I couldn’t escape and even if I tried she was much faster than me since she was blessed with a wolf. I was nothing, a slave. All I could hope for was that it was at least a quick beating today.