Shifter

Lili is shape-shifter in a world where magic is forbidden. When her family is suspected, she must trust her mysterious new friend to help her uncover the truth.

My grandmother used to say “Death is not the end, it is the beginning. Do not mourn me when I am gone, for I shall not mourn the start of a new adventure.” She accepted death in a way I had never seen anyone do, as though he was a long-forgotten friend that she would simply embrace. But death is the end, the end of a life, the end of a person. How can a person continue living when their loved ones sleep under the earth, and their voices have faded, and the memory of them fades more and more each day? How could I continue living, knowing I would never see her again, never touch her hand again, never smell the flowery perfume that she always wore again? She told me it was easy to die. She didn’t tell me how hard it would be to be the one left behind.

            The day she died my grandfather found her lying on her bed, her hair splayed out over the pillow and her hands folded over her stomach. Her eyes were closed, but when my grandfather touched her hand he found it as cold as ice. She was 63.

            We knew it was murder. When my grandfather lifted her body in his arms for the last time to place her in her grave, her head rolled to the side and he saw the puncture mark. Poison, he told me. She wouldn’t have felt a thing.

            She was buried in the forest behind the house, underneath two twins oak trees. We held a small funeral with friends and family, and her obituary was published two days later. Neighbors brought over cakes and pies and casseroles and every kind of food they could think of, and said they were so sorry to hear of it, and that she was in a better place now. We nodded and said thank you, and when the neighbors left my grandfather drowned his sorrows in half the liquor cabinet and I curled up in my room and stared at nothing for days.

            My mother kept us together. She cooked for us, and made sure we ate, especially Grandfather. She was the one who persuaded me to help her get rid of all his bottles by dumping them down the drain.

We never told the police. We told everyone that she died of natural causes in her sleep, and they accepted it.  But we knew the truth. Her killer was still out there somewhere, her blood on his hands. And soon his blood would be on ours. No one knew revenge like my family.

***

            A wreath of flowers over the grave. Her name carved in the marble stone. The mound of dirt, slightly higher than the rest. That’s what I saw every morning when I visited her grave. And the glass jar full of slips of paper, one for every day since she’d been gone, one for every thing I’d miss about her.

            Today the flowers were slightly wilted, and I tossed them away and replaced them with new ones. I knelt next to the grave the same way I’d done every morning since she died.

I miss you, I thought. We all do. My vision blurred as tears ran down my cheeks but I didn’t bother wiping them away. They made small puddles in the earth where they fell and I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to scream that this wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be dead. She should be alive, reading her books and baking her infamous chocolate cake, scolding Grandfather for leaving his bottles all over the house while he nodded with an ashamed look on his face and then slipping him an extra cookie at dinner to make up for it.

“Well he did make quite a mess for me to clean up.” I felt a gentle weight on my shoulder and looked up.

“Grandmother?” She nodded, her white hair escaping from the bun on her head and blowing softly around her face.

“Do you know how many times I scolded that man? And every time he’d look at me with those sad eyes. I never could stay mad at him and he knew it.”

I giggled. “And a week later you’d come downstairs and you’d see another bottle lying on the floor.”

“Remember the time I chased him around the house with the rolling pin? I’ve never seen him move so fast in his life.”

I fiddled with a loose string on my sweater. “He hasn’t drank since…well…a few months ago.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I know. I also knew that you and your mother poured every one of those bottles down the drain.”

I shrugged. “He can’t get drunk if he has nothing to drink. And now he has nothing to drink. He can’”

Grandmother glanced around as though someone was calling her. “I don’t have much time, so listen. I know you want to know what happened the day I died. But I never saw their face. What I did see, however, was a small mark on their wrist. It looked like a bite mark.”

“The neighbors’ dog?” The people next door had a huge dog that bit anyone who came near the fence.

“Possibly.” Her image began to fade. “I have to go. But remember this: not everyone is who they seem. I love you, Lili.”

“Wait! What do you-?” But she was already gone.

            “Lilith.” I turned and saw Grimm running toward me. “Your grandfather wants to see you. In the study.”

            I stood immediately. This was definitely out of character of him. The only person besides himself permitted in his study was my grandmother. For him to invite me into his study meant something had happened. “Did he say why?”

            His tail swished nervously behind him. “No, but you should hurry. He doesn’t look happy.”

I hesitated before following him and dropped a slip of paper into the jar by the grave.

            Day 63: The sound of your voice.

***

            I knew something was wrong when I saw the door to Grandfather’s study unlocked. He never left the door unlocked, even when it was just him in the house. He said it was just because a man’s private space is his own, and he wanted his private space. I said it was because he just didn’t want to talk to anyone.

            “Grandfather?” Grimm had made himself scarce as soon as we reached the door, and my mother was asleep with a headache, so I was on my own. I raised my hand to knock, then dropped it. Then raised it again.

“You can come in.” I jumped slightly and pushed the door open, not realizing he knew I was there.

I’d only seen Grandfather’s study once or twice before, and only from outside. Once, when I was little, I’d tried the handle when I thought he wasn’t looking, hoping to get a peek inside. It had been locked, and the sound of the doorknob rattling had been enough to make him come outside and lecture me on the importance of privacy.

Now I finally understood why Grandfather loved this room so much. It was a reader’s paradise. Hundreds of books filled the shelves, and dozens of shelves lined the walls. There were books on the coffee table, and on the sofa, open books and closed books, big books and small books. Everywhere a book could be, it was there. And the smell, the scent of old paper and ink. I could practically feel the knowledge contained in the books. It hung in the air like a heady perfume. My head spun, and my fingers itched to pull a book, any book, off the shelves and curl up in one of the stuffed armchairs by the fire.

“So what do you think of my library?” I nearly jumped again at hearing his voice right behind me. His hand came down to rest lightly on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “I’ve never seen so many books outside of the library.” My fingers hovered over the spine of a rather large book and I heard him chuckle lightly. A rare sound for him.

“Go ahead. Touch it.”

“Really?

“Books are meant to be read, Lilith. Not admired from afar.”

I gently slid the book from the shelf and rested it in my hands.

“Go ahead. Open it.” I did.

“You see, the knowledge contained in these books is unfathomable. Ancient history, mythology, poetry, foreign languages.” He gestured to each bookshelf in turn. “For example, ‘maireann lá go ruaig ach maireann an grá go huaigh.’”

“’ A day lasts until it's chased away but love lasts until the grave’,” I translated. “An old irish love saying.”

“Very good. But I didn’t call you here to discuss literature.” He gestured to one of the armchairs and waited until I sat down before continuing. “I received a letter from your school this morning.”

Crap. This wasn’t good. “What about?”

“See for yourself.” He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to me. “Open it.”

Dear Mr. O’Connor;

 This is to inform you that your granddaughter Lilith O’Connor has been accused of assault of another student. As you know our school has a no-violence policy, which makes this a matter of deep concern. Please note that Miss O’Connor has been ordered to report to the school principal at seven o’clock on the morning of December 17^th.”

From the office of,

Mr. Johnathan Slye

Principal

            “This isn’t true.” I reached the bottom of the letter and flung it onto the table in disgust.

            Grandfather kept his gaze on the fire. “Why would someone lie about that?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “You don’t know,” he repeated, turning around to look at me.

            “No I…” I did know, I realized.

            He noticed my hesitation. “You what?”

             “It was nothing. Just a stupid guy who made a stupid mistake.”

            “Obviously it was something. There’s the proof right there.” The chandelier above his head began to shake almost imperceptibly. I kept one eye on it and tried to speak calmly.

            “I’ll take care of it.”

            He slammed his fist suddenly against the mantle and I jumped. The chandelier was shaking harder now. “Idiots.”

            Way to go on the vote of confidence, I thought. “You don’t trust me.”

            He waved his hand impatiently and turned back to the fireplace. “Not you. The lack of intelligence in the administration.”

            My eyes flickered to the door and I wondered if I could make a break for it before he really lost it.

            “Go,” he said, before I could act on my plan. “I have things to do. You may take the book with you.” I nodded and moved toward the door. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, as my hand touched the handle.

            “Yes?”

            “Feel free to browse my library at any time.”

            I nodded again and closed the door behind me.

The chandelier was still shaking.

***

            “They did what?”

            I winced and shifted the phone to my other ear. “I know, I know.”

            “I can’t believe this.” I could picture Ivy on the other end, twirling her hair like she always did when she was agitated.

            “Me neither.” I rolled over on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

            “Whatever. You better not get your a*s expelled.”

            “Oh please. Who would keep you in line if I was?”

            She laughed. “No one. I’d be as bad as you.”

            I laughed too. “Now that’s just mean.”

She quickly changed the subject. “So you gonna be there tomorrow?”

            “Yeah. After the meeting.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Grimm slink into the room. I waved him over and he jumped up on the bed and curled up next to me.

            “Good. Cause we got a surprise pop quiz first period.”

            I groaned.

            “Cheer up. We just gotta get through this week. Then it’s winter break and no school for the next three weeks.” She was quiet for a minute. “Look, I gotta go. My parents want a date night tonight and I’m watching my brother.”

            “Okay. Bye.” I hung up and turned to Grimm. “What do you want?”

            “Who, me? Nothing. Just thought I’d come by to chat.”

            I laughed. “You’re a terrible liar. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

            Grimm looked as offended as a cat could look. “I resent that. Besides, humans are more curious that cats. And is there a saying that curiosity killed the human? No, of course not.”

            I sat up and pulled him onto my lap. He wiggled around until he found a comfortable spot and curled up.

            “So…?”

            “So what?”

            “So what really happened?”

            “When?”

            “When you assaulted that guy.”

            “I didn’t assault anyone.”

            “Says you.”

            “Fine. If you must know, it was last week during lunch. I was going to meet Ivy at our normal lunch table when this guy came up behind me and grabbed me. I told him to let go and he didn’t, so I elbowed him in the stomach and twisted his arm behind his back. Then I let go of him, and he glared at me and walked away. That’s it.”

            “That’s it?”

            “Yes.”

            “Okay.” He jumped off my lap and headed toward the door.

            “’Okay’? That’s all you have to say?”

            He bared his teeth in a feline smile. “I got what I needed.” He ducked as I halfheartedly threw a book at him. I could hear him laughing all the way down the hall.

***

            The next morning was a rush of activity. I visited the grave before the sun was really up (day 64: your cooking), and made it back in time to eat a hurried breakfast before my mother drove me to the school.

            “Now remember, you’ve done nothing wrong. Just keep calm and hopefully this will all be over soon.”

            “You don’t think that we-?”

            “No. If it was we wouldn’t be here.”

            A little-known fact about my family: we had powers. We were Shifters, meaning we had the ability to Shape shift into anything and everything. My family specialized in Animal Shifting. It was our greatest secret, and our greatest fear that someone would discover it.

            “Lilith.”

I paused halfway out of the car and turned to face her, my stomach in knots. My mother rarely called by my whole name; it was usually “Lili.” “Yes?”

“Your eyes.” You could tell a lot about someone by their eyes, particularly with Shifters. Our eyes changed to mimic whatever animal we were Shifted into, but when we were in human form, they were a silvery-grey color. Not exactly the best way to avoid attention.

I’d forgotten to put in contacts this morning, and if anyone looked closely enough, my eyes would be a dead giveaway.

I rummaged through my bag and found the box. I slipped them in and turned to face her again. She nodded her approval and I stepped out of the car.

“I’ll be here at three,” she said. I nodded and watched as she pulled out of the parking lot and vanished from sight.

I followed the stone path up to the office door marked Front Office, and, taking a deep breath, pushed it open.

Author's Note

this is only chapter one, i'm working on more. just want to know how i've done so far. honest critiques please, tell me what you like & what i could do better