My relationship with my family was... distant. They weren't really bad, but we didn't have a very strong relationship. I decided it was because our zodiac signs weren't compatible. My dad was a Gemini, my mom a Libra, and me- a crazy Virgo. I rarely got along with my older sister- we weren't compatible either. She was an Aquarius...

Anyway, that's part of the reason I didn't tell my family about what I could do. The other reason was because I thought maybe I was losing my mind. When I was twelve, I was going for a walk along the dirt roads between the vast green fields near my home in the middle of nowhere when I came across a barn cat. I stared at the cat who looked cool and calm as it sauntered along the road with no collar to speak of and seemingly no care in the world, when I started wishing that I could just be a cat. I wouldn't have to listen to my parents, go to my terrible middle school, or have any rules. I could just do whatever I wanted. I could sleep all day, go wherever I wanted, and not have to talk to anyone. I felt like I was falling to my knees and sinking into the ground as I stared teary-eyed at the skinny mangey barn cat. I breathed in in shock when I felt my body change. My clothes felt like they had grown too big and I was horrified as I felt them slip off my skin. The moment I knew something was terribly wrong was when I felt the long length of a tail anchored to my spine and my back prickled with goose-bumps, sticking all the hairs up. My green eyes were wide as I turned to peer at my tail and saw the long black fur that coated the side of my long svelte body. My hands were round black paws and I could feel the cool breeze against my skin as it blew through my black fur like I was naked.

I turned back to the dirty tabby and he had stopped dead on the trail like he had seen the whole thing. He looked like he didn't know whether to attack or run. I was trying not to panic, but I didn't even know what to do. Isn't this what I wanted? I stepped out of my t-shirt and trousers and the cat decided to make a break for it into the field with a pause to hiss back at me. Great. Cats are about as friendly as the kids at school.

I walked a little ways, getting used to my strong small legs and the feel of my long flowing tail. I could smell more than I could as a human, but I was still trying to decide if that was good or bad. When the clouds seemed to darken and I knew it was going to rain, I turned around in defeat and went back to my clothes. I took a deep breath and tried to feel my hands I had spent my whole twelve years using and my height as I reached out to pick up my t-shirt. I let out a sigh of relief when my pale hands emerged and I felt my body return to my actual size. Then I felt the small raindrops on my bare back and my butt was out in the breeze, making me grumble as I pulled my clothes on as fast as humanly possible.

As I walked back and the clouds opened up, my mind was spinning with questions and a whirlwind of possibilities. The closer I got to home, the more I began to doubt it actually happened. Maybe I passed out in the dirt or had a hallucination as I walked.

"Where have you been?!" my mom's angry voice greeted me when I swung the door of our modest house. "Victoria, you're filthy. Hurry and get changed! You're not going to get any supper if you don't hurry up." She threatened. I just looked up at her with my teeth chattering. Why was our house always so cold? Maybe it was because it was old and all the windows were small and the walls were thick with stone and very little insulation.

I trudged up the old wood staircase to the small second floor. It was the shape of the roof and my room was among the slopiest. My view from the narrow window was of the farm next door. One of the things that bugged me about my family was that even though we lived in the middle of nowhere, we didn't even have any animals. I had begged my parents to let me keep countless stray kittens and even a few barn cats I managed to entice with tuna, but they always said no. My sister didn't really like animals and spent more time trying to bring boys home than animals. I admit, even in middle school, I was jealous. I never had any friends and definitely didn't have any friends that were boys. Even though I hung around with a boy or two, they were not really interested in being more than acquaintances and neither was I- though it'd be nice to feel desirable.

We had moved to the rural area 45 minutes East of London when I had begun middle school. We used to live closer in the suburbs and before I started seventh grade my mom had convinced me to get a god-awful haircut. She had convinced me going short would look 'hip'. She had the hairdresser give me a bob and I had pictured some sharp-looking high fashion textured bob, but I ended up getting the most horrifying 'dutch boy' haircut ever. While Lexi convinced my parents to let her get blonde highlights that year, I had my mousy brown hair cut in a hideous bob. I couldn't even hide it in a ponytail. It didn't stay in and stray pieces would fly all over. It didn't help me make friends in middle school. While I had had a few friends in elementary school, we were never close enough to keep contact and then in middle school I felt like I spoke a different language and everyone acted like I was the strangest thing they'd ever seen even when I tried to join conversations and be social. They'd all go quiet when I went over to their group and then they looked at me like they were offended, like I had come over and was completely unwelcome. That led to me keeping to myself and soon it became a habit.

~

My elder sister, Alexandria 'Lexi' went away to university when I turned fifteen. Though I had tried fruitlessly to spend time with her and her friends, I still felt like I was more alone than ever after she left for school. Her friends were almost as mean as my sister. They joked that I was like a feral cat or a hobo that wandered in the house and had no business there.

By my second year of high school, I had convinced myself that I needed to look the part of a bad-ass mysterious loner rather than a lonely, ugly outcast. So, I decided to dye my mousey brown hair black. I made a vow never to cut it again after my bob so it had grown out pretty long. I was able to scrounge a few pounds to buy myself the cheapest blackest hair dye at the local drug store in town and I had to ride my bike quickly home to beat my parents home from work so they couldn't stop me. They both worked long hours and each took their cars to London. It was a long drive even when it wasn't rush hour, but my mom was a speeder and the ride home was less traffic-y than the ride in.

My mom was disgusted with my blackened hair that I had tried to hide from her under a hoodie. Even my dad looked angry and annoyed with me when she yanked my hood down. Of course, I hadn't realized the black would dye the bathtub too... or the towels... or my scalp. I went to bed crying and feeling like what was supposed to be something to give me confidence and make me feel cool and special was now another reason for people to look down on me and treat me badly. My parents weren't just mad about me dying the tub and towels, even after the marks had faded, my mom started calling me 'blacktop' as if she was trying to bully me into deciding to change my hair back to its original color.

I stormed out of the house on a Saturday after a terrible breakfast. My mom was disappointed I wasn't more like Lexi, who knew she wanted to be a lawyer since she was in high school. I on the other hand, had no idea what I wanted to be. She asked me why I couldn't look put-together and why I couldn't bring home a boy or even any friends.

I started thinking of the cat I wanted to disappear as when I was twelve as I wandered the sheep field. It was the Spring and even though the sky was blue and the grass was green, I strode along with a dark storm cloud above my black head. I had started to wear dark make-up and straighten my black hair. Part of it was to keep people away and part of it was so I could feel more like myself or at least who I wanted to be. My clothes were black too- a band t-shirt and some black jean shorts. I scowled at the white wooly sheep, feeling like a black sheep in more ways than one. For a moment, I wondered if I could turn into a sheep, but realized just like with my family and peers I'd probably stick out and not fit in. Instead, I continued through the field in an attempt to distance myself from my house. I leaped the fence easily, avoiding the barbed wire and found myself heading for the darkness of the woods to offer me some respite from the heat of the steadily rising sun.

I had nowhere to go and no one to talk to, I realized with tears in my eyes when I got to the small stretch of forest between neighboring fields. I looked up at the deep green leaves and splotches of bright sky before I closed my eyes to stop the flood of painful tears. I wouldn't want a farmer or somebody to find me having a breakdown on their land. They'd yell at me to get off- especially since I looked like a bad kid. I crouched as if I could hide or disappear completely to give myself a moment to decide where I could go where no one would find me. I knew going to town would be uncomfortable- almost as uncomfortable as getting yelled at by a territorial farmer. Then I tried to turn into a cat. It was worth a try. I could just slip out of my skin and hide in plain sight. No one yells at a cat on their farm or stares at a cat wandering the street in town.

It felt like time slowed as I struggled to feel my tail, my pointed ears, and the sharp teeth in my mouth. When I felt my clothes slip off and the dirt under my bare hands and feet, I opened my green eyes. Did I do it?! Is this real?! I wondered, turning my head to gaze at black fur as my tail swished in excitement. I needed to look in a mirror more than ever, but as I moved silently through the woods, I guessed I had been successful. I could feel my long whiskers from my upper lip and above my eyes, my ears could pivot on my seemingly furry head, and my tail was long and bendable. I tested my claws by pressing my black paws against a tree and hooking them viciously into the bark. My back arched as I scratched and stretched. My legs felt strong and capable like coiled springs and I came to a boulder that I decided would make the perfect place to test my jumping ability. I leaped up and over onto the boulder with my tail lending stability to my surprisingly soft landing. I looked out onto the forest floor and past the trees out to the fields. My bright eyes could see even the small movements of little animals in the shadows. I licked the silky black fur on my forearm and was shocked to find I had even managed to have a sandpapery tongue. I could feel it caress my arm and comb through my fur.

After what I guessed was about an hour, I realized I didn't have the guts to go to town. What if I was hallucinating and showed up naked, acting like a cat? That would be the most embarrassing thing ever. I took longer to summon the courage to turn back and slip on my clothes. It was surely the afternoon now, but it was Saturday and my parents would likely still be home working on meaningless household tasks. My mom would probably try to garden and my dad would maybe mow the lawn or work on the cars. I wasn't successful slipping by and my mom interrogated me about where I was and why I was gone so long. I gave her a curt answer about going for a walk and then made a break for my room.

When I got upstairs, the first thing I did is peer into the mirror at myself. I looked about the same as I did when I left though I had a fragment of a dry leaf in my hair. I pulled it out, scowling at myself and then decided to see if I could turn into a cat in the bathroom and maybe I could find a way to have proof that would prove that I really was a cat before anybody saw me. I closed the door to the cramped full bath and locked it before stripping my clothes off and facing myself in the mirror. I looked deep into my serious green eyes as I tried to feel how it felt to be a cat. Before I knew it, I had dropped to all fours with my back arching up and my tail stretching long and bushy over my back. I looked down to black fur-covered paws before leaping up to the ugly old-fashioned vanity to look into the foggy old mirror. I was faced with a green-eyed black cat. I was big with long hair and large paws. My eyes were wide as my ears pressed back in perturbation. Was it really me? I put my front paw on the mirror and sure enough the reflection met my paw flawlessly. I weaved back and forth on the small space on either side of the porcelain sink as I tried to decide how I could prove it. I could try to take a picture. I looked down and the wet paw print gave me an idea. I could put a paw print on a piece of paper and ask someone what it looked like. I guessed I wouldn't be able to unlock my phone with a paw to be able to take a picture of myself, but that was still an option. Still, what if I took a picture and it looked like a cat to me, but to everyone else it was me crouching naked or something?

I coated my hand in black make-up before cutting a little piece of paper out of my sketchbook and then willed myself to change. I felt like I was getting faster and my clothes slipped off easily as I emerged with a tail. I wasted no time in standing on the little piece of paper and then inspected the smudge of my black paw. When I turned back, I was surprised the paw was still a paw and not suddenly a human hand. I inspected it pensively before deciding to go to town and ask a stranger what they thought instead of trying to ask my mom and having her think I was crazy- if they only saw a hand...