Copyright © 2020 by Annaliese Purrington
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted into any forms, including electronic, photocopy, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, events, and names are fictious. Any resemblance to anyone living or passed is coincidental.
Front cover photo by Annaliese Purrington.
First printing edition 2020
Independently published
Prologue
It was the year 1995. The moonless, cloudy night sky was a hue so dark you wouldn’t be able to see two feet in front of you if it weren’t for the city lights. My brother Jason was in the living room doing his usual paperwork for the city. He was the Mayor. A very well-respected, coordinated Mayor. The Southern City ran smoothly and peacefully with him leading it. Some say he was the greatest Mayor the city ever had. I couldn’t imagine what the City would be like without my brother leading. My other brother Coal was always jealous of Jason. He wanted to become the Mayor, but Jason won the votes by a long shot. Coal received not even half of what Jason got. I felt sad for him honestly, but I couldn’t help but feel happy and proud of Jason.
Tonight, I heard my brothers fighting again. I didn’t worry. Like brothers, arguing was their nightly routine.
“I should have been Mayor! I am much more of a leader than you! You don’t even know how to handle the animal problem going around. What makes you assume you know how to run the entire city?” Coal yelled.
“Would you calm down Coal! It’s over. The votes are already counted. I’m the Mayor, and I’m working on all the problems. The first one I’m fixing is you. Just get out of my way, okay?”
I didn’t pay much attention to them as I always heard them going after each other. I sat in the dining room holding a history textbook and tried not to listen to them, but Coal seemed extra mad that night, so I peered in the room and all I saw was blue smoke. But from what? Suddenly, a massive grey wolf leaped from the cloud of smoke and dived at Jason. I screamed, but Jason was already struggling against Coal’s immense strength. I could hardly stand the realization that my brother, Coal, was a wolf. I backed away from the doorframe as my brothers, or should I say, wolf and brother, fought. I heard the pounding of the paws on the wood floors then heard a window shatter as they tumbled out of the house. I guess Coal finally snapped and was trying to fight his way into being the Mayor of the Southern City. But what was with the wolf thing? Was the wolf Coal? It had to be! I didn’t see my brother leave the room in human form. But then, how did he transform? Was it some kind of secret I’ve never known?
I ran to the phone and fumbled with it as I called the city guards. After I hung up seconds later, I raced to the window to help Jason, but all I saw in the starless night was a shadow running into the forest. Running away from the life that was nearly perfect for him and running away from his only sister and brother. Another shadow stood by the broken window breathing hard then disappeared from another cloud of smoke. My brother Coal was there again, but I didn’t dare go near him. I noticed his arm was bleeding from an intense wound made from the glass of the window. I saw lights from guard cars flashing from the front of the house.
I will forever have that memory of my older brother Jason running into the wood finally defeated by our middle brother. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully know what happened that night. All I will know for sure was that Coal was tired of not being the ruler of the city and snapped, battling with Jason for the spot of the leader.
Coal got taken away after I told the guards what happened. They didn’t believe a word I said and when Coal told them, they just laughed. But took him anyway for the Mayor was nowhere in sight. I was only fifteen when this all went down. They would never suspect a fifteen-year-old to do this crime in this city.
If you are reading this letter, realize that I lost both my older brothers that night. They took Coal to prison, and I never knew where Jason ran off too. I suppose I’ll never know. I wrote this letter the next day. Hoping that someday, someone will find it either when I’m Mayor or after someone else has taken my place. I want you to know that I will never forgive my brother Coal. Jason was practically my best friend and watching Coal fight him was painful and terrifying at the same time. If I ever see another human who can transform, I will always think of my best friend who was my brother, and Coal who I no longer call a brother. I will get revenge on the Morphs. I will.
Sincerely,
Z. Stancy.
Chapter 1
12 years later. New Point of View.
Don’t ask why my name is Calico. Don’t ask why I live in a house in the forest with my two brothers and one sister. Don’t ask why our parents are both gone in the day, working. Don’t ask why my hair is orange like the sunset, long and straight, or that I’m the oldest child. Instead, I’ll tell you.
My name is Calico, but my real name is Calista. Calista Marie Cadwell. My mother came up with the nickname because my favorite animal is the calico cat. But besides being my favorite animal, I was born with unique eyes. While some animals have both eyes the same color, some have two different colored eyes called heterochromia. I’m no different. One of my eyes is olive green, while the other a misty blue. I heard stories of people at the hospital being shocked and almost scared when I was born. Just because my eyes differed from other humans. But I don’t care. I like my unique look. No one else has it. I’m all my own and I like it that way. I have long, straight, orange hair with a few small braids and an oval face. My hands are delicate and soft even though I throw my spear each day and hardly use any moisturizers. I had learned the spear myself because after sitting at home doing nothing all day every day got boring. Except for my deepest secret. The secret I fear telling my family. Fearing the change of life preceding it. My form is delicate, and I am a little over five feet tall when I stand. I hate my height, but what can I do about it? I got my petite look from my mother. On my left arm, I have a tattoo of a line with feathers and flowers intertwined with a cat head.
I have two nine-year-old brothers who are twins. Jericho and Jayce. They both have dark brown hair like our father but act nothing like him. They act wild and rambunctious and never listen to me. Aurelian is my eleven-year-old sister. However, she acts more like she was fourteen. She’s so responsible and mature, but maybe that’s a good thing. I could always use extra help around the house when our parents are away. Although she’s constantly in a book. I can never yank her away from the paper filled box. I could ask her a question and ten minutes later she will finally answer. Even when she’s helping me around the house, her nose is still in some book.
Our father is always working and I’m not exaggerating! He works from six in the morning to about five in the evening all day, every day. Our mother will come home earlier in the evening like around four. She teaches fourth grade at the Western City. She teaches until three in the afternoon, but since we need money, she works for the library there too in the evening. Our father, however, is an electrician for the Western City. He’s always away going to people’s houses, working in his office. Our parents seem to enjoy working though. To help the family get food and money you know.
I probably should have mentioned this before, but The Western City is a few hours away from us. It’s a massive city with glass buildings, shiny new cars, people all prestige and perfect. Their houses are the size of two of our houses put together. The reason we didn’t go live in that city was because we liked the woods too much; and that we can’t really afford to live there, anyway. It’s expensive living in that city and our parents hardly get any pay. I’ve thought about getting a job to help a little, but I have to w
atch my younger siblings. Once Aurelian is old enough to watch the boys, I’ll think about going out and getting a job or two. The colors for the Western City are blue and yellow. Blue symbolizes freedom, imagination, sensitivity, openness, loyalty, trust, and wisdom. The yellow symbolizes peace, courage, happiness, warmness, hope, and confidence.
There’s another city. This one is the Southern City. It only takes me about twenty to thirty minutes to get to that city. The Southern City is like the Western one, but to me, it seems bigger and more all-about-them. You know? The people there seem to just focus on themselves and seem much too perfect to me. The city colors are red and black. Red symbolizing power, strength, energy, standout attitudes, passion, and war. The black symbolizes mystery, drama, sophistication, elegance, and power. I was never particularly interested in the Southern City like everyone else was and still is today. It is a city to admire you got to admit that much, but to me, they just show off too much and draw too much attention to themselves.
The Southern City has many strict rules. I’ve seen it, even though outsiders like me are not allowed to go into it unless given permission and a special slip of paper saying they allow you to enter. The people in the city are more wealthy, sophisticated, and first-class people. I’ve seen the houses - as beautiful and new as they are - and how large but expensive they are. The towering glass buildings block most of the sunlight from even reaching the homes. It’s rare to have a house with even a ray of the golden light in that city. Before I was born, my parents lived in the Southern City. They hated the crowded streets, the outfits they had to wear at work and school, the size of the four to five-bedroom houses. But most of all, they couldn’t afford anything. So, they moved out and built the house we now live in. They had gotten the supplies from our uncle who smuggled the supplies out of the Southern City for us.
I loved growing up in the forest. There was and still is so much to learn about it. From sixteen years admiring and observing the forest, I know almost everything now and know where everything is and where each animal lives practically. The only reason I wish I had grown up in the city was because I always wanted to go to school. Not to learn - I do that all here in the forest and a little from homeschooling - but to make new friends and hang out after the school day. I am really not the person who likes to make friends, but if I went to school, I know I would make at least one or two good friends. The only friends I have now are Aurelian and my brothers who, to be honest, annoy me to no end all the time! We could have gone to the Western City with our parents for school but the schools there are almost just as expensive as the ones in the Southern City.
I go into the Southern City and walk around though. The only reason I can do that without getting caught is my secret. I like my secret sometimes. It helps me get food for the family, helps me walk around in the city without getting caught, and much more. Sometimes I’m glad no one knows it. If my family knew, I would never hear the end to it. They would always tell me to be careful and to keep doing it for their entertainment.
I have little. My room is a good size. The large bed sits in the back-right corner always covered in my messy array of blankets and pillows and occasionally a few books. My desk sits in the back-left corner and my closet is by the door on the left. The wood floor throughout the house is rough and hard, but the floor in my room is covered with a dense soft carpet.
I love living in the forest and seeing all the wild creatures who roam around. We have no pets, although I think of all the wild animals as my friends and pets. They never seem afraid of me. I could easily walk up to a buck and pet his large, majestic antlers. But I keep my distance, allowing them to be forever free. Unlike me. No one knows my secret. Not even Aurelian who is very close to me almost like a very best friend. Although, isn’t that what sisters are? It’s a secret above all secrets. I can never be free. I wake sometimes at night from terrible nightmares about it. But the nightmares haven’t happened for a few years now. I could tell my family my secret, but every time I think of telling them I get a scared they won’t like me after I tell them or that they would never look at me the same again.
Chapter 2
As I sit on the front porch of our house, I see a mouse run by. The tiny rocks beneath its delicate feet don’t move or twitch. He dashes under the stairs and disappears from my sight quickly. I have a feeling inside me to chase it. But what would be the point? I look up at the towering pine trees as the sun tries to break free from all the branches. I never have shoes on my feet. We can afford shoes, yes, but I refuse to wear them. I feel better when I can feel the soft dirt and dead pine nettles on my skin. Plus, shoes seem heavy to me and seem to slow me down and drag my feet.
I wonder what the twins are up too. They’re always causing trouble. Maybe I should go check on them. I get up and stretch for I have been sitting on the front steps for over an hour. I walk through the large, dark, wooden front door with a stained-glass window and stop in the doorway. Our house, like I said, is a decent house. It has two stories and like some people would say a modern house. Once I walk through the front door, the stairs are right there. To the left is the large kitchen, to the right is the living room, and beyond the stairs is the dining room. The bedrooms are all upstairs. It might seem like a big expensive house, but it took a long time to build, and it’s not as big as the houses in either city. But we like it very much. It’s always cluttered with the most random of things, but it’s a cozy cluttered. There are pillows and blankets scattered around the living room and shoes and coats clutter the entryway. Pictures of family cover every inch of the walls and different colored rugs overlap on the floors.
I hear loud laughing as I stand in the doorway. I smell a burning smell in the air, almost like burning bread mixed with coal and firewood. I get slightly worried. I hope Aurelian didn’t bake again. It was a disaster last time. It would take a long time to explain the mess and burnt whatever she tried to make. I think it was cake, but it ended up being charcoal. Just a black rock in the burnt pan.
I walk to the kitchen, leaving the front door open, hoping to air out the house. When I arrive at the kitchen’s doorway, I see Aurelian and the twins gathered around the sink.
“What are you doing? And what’s that smell?” I ask, looking at them all.
“I’m sorry. I tried to make a cake but I kind of messed up,” Aurelian looks up at me with an embarrassed expression on her sweet, childlike face. Her orange hair, which is the same color as mine, is in a messy bun and her violet apron is covered in chocolate cake mix. Everyone who saw us together would know that we are sisters. The only thing different about Aurelian’s face is her freckles and her almond-shaped green eyes.
“How many times have I told you not to cook or bake? No offense, but you are terrible at it,” I say chuckling as I walk to her. The smoke from the hot pan billows into the air.
“I’m sorry,” says Aurelian, tearing her apron off.
“It’s fine. Go clean off. I’ll clean up the kitchen,” I say and grab a paper towel and wipe the stove off as she walks out opening a new book. As I clean up, I think of random things. Nothing in particular. But one thing stands out from the rest. I’ve always felt like I was never complete. Like there is someone out there in the world that is my other half. But I never pay much attention to this nagging feeling. If the right person comes along, I’ll know it.
The twins run off and I guess they went outside for I hear the door slam close, knocking me out of my thoughts. I am thinking of yelling to them to tell them not to slam the door, but what would be the point? They wouldn’t hear me, anyway; and if they did, they would most likely ignore me. They always tell me I’m the annoying big sister.
I’m done cleaning in about ten minutes. What to do, what to do… I think as I open the front door. I walk onto the porch and sit on the steps again. I listen carefully and hear the ocean, which is about two or three miles north. I hear the vicious waves beating and lashing on the rocks and sand. I have the best hearing out of my whole family. No one
but me knows why. I like to go to the beach, but the only time I can go is when our parents are home. A few years ago, we could go anytime we wanted regardless if our parents were home or not. But when Aurelian and the twins snuck off without telling me, I panicked and, well; you get the picture. Our mother forbad us to go unless she and our father were home going with us so they both can watch the young ones too.
I love the feel of the ocean air upon my face and the white soft sand under my feet. I love the sound of the seagulls and the water crashing on the huge boulders. Everything about the ocean and nature I love. Except the water. I was never a huge fan of getting wet.
I close my eyes as a meadowlark sings loudly above. I can almost imagine what it must feel like to sing all day and to lift your wings and fly. It must feel great. I open my eyes and see the sun above and know it’s noon or early evening. The afternoon sun has finally reached the ground in front of me. I stretch my feet out into its warmth. What should I do now? I stand up. I think I will practice with my spear. Even though I’m exhausted.
I walk to my left and walk to the edge of the house. There is a small shed there. I open the creaking door of the shed and pull out my tall spear. It’s heavy but slender and has a stone tip. I walk past the shed and walk into the woods a little to where I usually practice. I stand there looking around. Making sure nothing and no one is less than twenty yards away, I stick my spear in the soft ground and pin my hair back the usual way. Loosely wrapped up in the back into a bun. I grab my spear and spin it in my right hand. I turn around as the piece of wood still spins. I stop in a lunging position and throw the spear behind me as I turn. It sticks into a tall pine tree. I retrieve it then I chuck it in front of me and it wedges deep into another tree trunk. I do this for about ten minutes until I hear my nickname being called.
Calico Page 1