The Ghost of A Monster

"She's not like her parents. She's not like us. She's different from us monsters." What if you were different from normal humans? What if you were different from your species? What if your parents didn't tell you what you are, what your heritage is, and didn't want you to know? What then?

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1. I

        Sitting on the hard, cold, concrete step that led inside our families home, I stared at the visitors as they pushed and shoved themselves inside the inviting oak door. Several of them blatantly stopped next to me to gawp and point and whisper about me behind closed fingers. I knew what they saw-a younger, more fragile, more childish, slightly different replica of my father. It meant I had the genetic Mammut family perfectly sculpted cheekbones, dark, glossy green eyes, long eyelashes, the messy mane of dark curls and a lean figure that spoke of height worthy of being called tall. I had received nothing from my mother in the gene department-except maybe the ability to make sure every eye was on me when I strode gracefully into a room.

        When the last view stragglers wandered into our home, I rose and caught a smell-the smell of rain on damp grass. Jerking my head to the side, I spotted a light starting hurriedly toward the path in the dark. It was speaking rapidly, as though if they couldn't get their jumbled speech out quick enough, something terrible would happen. Realising who it was, my mouth slowly tugged up into a grin as I started to hear oncoming footsteps. 

        "Hey! Look who it is! Ash herself, greeting me with possible tasty sushi treats?" Shaking my head, I tried hard not to laugh at the aged out joke that happened when I first met Sharkie all those years ago. Switching off his light, he gave me a quick sideways hug-I could still smell the scent of the recent meal he'd eaten, and it overpowered by nostrils. "So, parents still not gonna let us into the party after that time we ogled?" Sharkie's smirk was big and obnoxious on his cocky face.

        "No. Still blame me for that, you know. It was totally your fault, and you know it-you bullied eight year old me loads, you know that?" I couldn't keep the smile off of my face either, as we burst into a fit of helpless giggles. Wiping away a tear, I linked arms with Sharkie and we pretended that we were some of the pompous guests with overly nasal posh voices. "Oh, that mirror simply does not go with my shoes! Or the carpet!"

        "Come along, dear, just because we have a nice, larger home than these people, doesn't mean you can insult-oh, dearie me, you are quite right, the ceiling does not match my tuxedo at all, and that girl! Gosh, she looks too much like her snooty father, doesn't she?"

        "You are right, we must leave at once! I can feel my non-existent allergies starting up!" We couldn't help it-we creased up, right in the hallway, tears running down our faces, with nothing but wheezy noises coming out of our gaping mouths. Unfortunately, my Mother decided to step down the staircase at that exact moment, the faintest of smiles tracing her elegant lips.

        "What a pleasant surprise, Sharkie Moon. It must have taken ages to travel here to see Ash. Go into the spare room, you two, before you disturb the guests please-whatever you two are laughing about I hardly know." Mother swished toward the big oak door that led into the spacious living room.

        We were dismissed.

 

 

 

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