February Story Contest

The Shifters
By: Skyberry
Age: 12

The moon was full, floating up in the immense sky. Its silvery glow tint the clouds a glowing slate as their shapes slowly float passed. Leaping up from the grass, I literally sprout wings. I spread them wide as the rest of me shifts into an owl. My snowy feathers are caught in an updraft and I ride it up into the billowing grey fluff. I glide for about 15 minutes, enjoying the night air ruffling my feathers. Then I swoop down, my wings dissipating and my clothes reappearing. I am once again a young girl.

“Welcome home, Ali,” Mom smiles at me warmly “Are you hungry?”

“Starving!” I reply, sitting down at the table. Mom begins fixing me a plate of pasta in tomato sauce.

“So how was your day, honey?” Dad asks as Mom hands me my meal.

“It was really good. Mrs. Greenwell taught me some new forms,” I reply between bites. “They were really easy.”

Mom nods at me and I eat my pasta, savoring its taste. I, as you may have noticed, am a shape shifter.  My whole family is a shifter family. Mrs. Greenwell is my shifters teacher at school. She teaches my class and I new forms, about who we are, and why we must stay secret. The council refuses to disclose anything other than the fact that if mortals knew who we are, we could all be killed.
          Finishing my food, I get up from the table and say goodnight to my parents. Dad nods at me as I walk off to my room. I take a shower, change, brush my hair and brush my teeth, and then climb into bed to sleep. I fall asleep almost instantly.

          The sun in my window awakes me the next morning. I sit up, noticing that I’m 10 minutes before my alarm. I hit reset and climb out of bed. Walking to my closet, I pick out a purple shape-shifting dress and change. My dress is special; it’s made of a special fabric that can shift with me. Normal clothes will just fall off of whatever form I take, while this dress will melt away into my form. I brush my hair and grab my school bag, made of the same material as my dress. I tie it onto my back well and then step outside. Waving to my parents, I shift into a robin, my crescent moon on my wing.
         
          Flapping my wings, I take off, testing my form. I learned the robin last week in shifters class and now my form is perfect. A chickadee suddenly swoops over and I recognize her mark. All shifters have a mark, and each mark is different. Marks are on our left arm, just below our shoulder. When we shift it appears on the left wing, left shoulder, etc. Mine is a crescent moon. The mark on the chickadee is a cherry blossom, the mark of my best friend Lexi. I twitter a warm “Hi!” in robin and her beak seems to smile. We swoop and fly through the air, enjoying the crisp morning breezes. All too soon the school comes into sight. To anybody else it’s a normal private school. But to young shape-shifters it’s the Starlight School for Shifters.

          We dive out of the sky to land in the area blocked off with brick. So-called stray dogs leap the brick wall, cats perch, and a lone garter snake slithers. When each gets over or around the brick wall, they shift into humans, all wearing the same fabric as my dress. Lexi is already done shifting, and she looks down at me.

“Coming?” She asks me “Or are you just gonna go to class as a robin?” Her expression is teasing, her head looking giant, which only amplifies her face to monstrous proportions.

I tweet good-naturedly at her as I shift back to myself. My bag melts into view and I loosen the tight strap a little. I wouldn’t be shifting with it for a little while. The first bell rings.

“Bye, Ali!” Lexi calls as she hurries off.

“See you at lunch!” I call back, rushing away too. My first class was my favorite – shifters. Mrs. Greenwell was nice but strict. Today the class and I will learn a new form, my absolute favorite part of the class. I can’t help but run a little faster to class at that thought. I don’t want to miss anything!

I enter the room and take my seat, untying my bag and placing it on my chair. The second bell rings just as I sit down. There are no desks and the chairs are arranged in a circle around a spot on the floor, the floor raised there. This spot is a circle, about 10 feet in diameter. Students stand on it to do each new form and get critiqued by Mrs. Greenwell.

Mrs. Greenwell strides into the room and stands on the circle.

“Morning class,” She rings out cheerfully “Today we are learning the horse and the tiger.”

At the word tiger, the whole class tensed up. Predators are really hard and embarrassing when you come out with no tail or hairless. I shrink back in my seat.

“Don’t worry,” Mrs. Greenwell continues “I’ll coach you through it.”

I sit up a little straighter.

“First, I will shift to show you what to do. Then I will pick one of you to go. Lets start with the horse. You may pick any breed and color you like.”

I’ve always loved horses, especially gypsy vanners. I’m looking forward to this form. I watch expectantly, leaning forward in my seat. Mrs. Greenwell starts to grow taller and wider, the body of a horse appearing as her clothes begin to melt. She falls forward onto her hooves, a clopping sound ringing from the floor. Chestnut fur becomes evident as a specific shape takes place, an Arabian horse. Her flaxen mane and tail erupt and her form is complete. A chestnut Arabian mare stands before us, a proud look in its eye. The whole transformation took about 5 seconds. Mrs. Greenwell shakes her mane and then shifts back. The whole class applauds and she takes a bow.

“Now it’s your turn.” She mischievously looks around the room before closing her eyes, extending her arm to point, and spinning in place. She stops on a girl I know a little.

“Alice, you’re chosen. Come on up!”

Alice shyly walks up to the circle, steps on it, and then walks to the center. She closes her eyes.

“Picture a horse in your mind and think of becoming it. Focus your mind and energy…” Mrs. Greenwell gently coaches her.

“That’s it…” She continues as Alice falls onto her hooves and gets the body down. Her skin is metallic silver, the sign of a shifter in the middle of a shift.

“Focus on fur, any color,” Mrs. Greenwell notices her lack of fur. Grey fur starts to grow, becoming rapid, sprouting all over the shifting girl. Her mane and tail shoots out. Her form is now done, perfect.

“Very good!” Mrs. Greenwell praised her. “You may shift back now,” Writing down Alice’s score, she smiles. Then she goes back to pointing and spinning, eyes closed. The class continues like this for a little while, each person getting it down in turn. And then Mrs. Greenwell picks me. I get up quickly and walk to the circle. Stepping on, I walk to the center.

“Pick a breed and color. Begin when you’re ready,” Mrs. Greenwell gives me an encouraging smile.

I pick a Gypsy Vanner mare I had once seen in a photo, her coat piebald and her mane flowing. Focusing, I picture myself becoming her. I begin to shift, my skin feeling like its covered in honey, my body turning metallic silver. Black and white patches explode while my mane gushes with a fury. Within 3 seconds I am a piebald mare.

The class claps loudly. Mrs. Greenwell winks at me and writes down my score, flashing it at me. 100/100!!! I giddily shift back to myself and practically skip back to my seat.

“How on earth did you do that?” Belle asks me, one of my good friends.

“I don’t really know… shifting comes really easily to me, I guess,” I smile, recalling how I’d heard a gasp from some of the other shifters.

“Well, you’re definitely gifted,” She smiles back as we settle in our seats to watch the rest of the class. We are dismissed after the last person does their horse. The tiger will be another project entirely.

An hour later I’m at lunch, sitting with Lexi and Belle. I occasionally see someone watching me, probably curious about my performance. I just smile and they turn away.
“Alright Ali, tell me everything about that class,” She says as she sips at her lemonade.

“Well… Mrs. Greenwell assigned us to do the horse for today, and when I was called, I went up. She told me to pick a horse and a color. You know that famous Gypsy Vanner, Nightshade?” Lexi nods. Belle puts up 1 finger while she finishes chewing.

“I knew I recognized that horse!” She exclaims after she forces down her swallow.

“Yeah, well, I just shifted into it… and the class clapped for me. I think it took me 3 seconds since I got 100/100 for it.”

The grading goes 75/100 for 45 seconds or longer, 85/100 for 20 seconds to 45, 90/100 for 15 seconds to 20, 100/100 for under 10 seconds. A little handheld ticks off the seconds when it senses shifting. I remember hearing 3.

“You were amazing,” Belle gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up and Lexi and I burst out laughing.

I finish my caesar salad and ham sandwich and then walk out onto the grass with Belle and Lexi. We get 20 minutes after eating to relax or do homework after lunch, then back to finish our remaining 3 classes. Our shifters class takes the 3 hours before or after lunch, and the other 3 classes are 1 hour each.

I sit in a sunny patch and enjoy the sun. Shifters, for some reason, are strongly attracted to sunlight and it soothes any soreness, removing it from our system for good. I shift into a tabby cat and curl up, enjoying the sun. I take care to keep awake and watch the birds hop around. Lexi and Belle shift into cats and lay beside me. I admire Belle’s mark, a sun, on her shoulder.  Its silvery color reflects the sunlight as does mine and Lexi’s. My eyes close to slits, barely open as I enjoy the warmth. The 2 minute warning bell rings, seeming so shortly after we finished our lunch. I shift back, springing into my form in under a second. This is no feat as everyone knows their own forms really well.