Chapter Text
I don't want to be here.
I don't want to be in this car, driving across the country to leave my home.
I don't want to be in this car, leaving my brother behind. I know he wanted to study there, but why did we have to pack our things and leave?
I mean, I know why. Dad got a promotion, and we had to move because of it. But, he couldn't turn it down?
I had a life in California, friends, and family. Now, I have to restart in Dimmadelphia, and from what I hear, that place sucks.
"Dimmadelphia? My uncle lives there, he's in jail," Is what one of my classmates told me after I told them I was moving.
"Dimmadelphia is full of crazies," I mumbled to myself, repeating what I heard my Teacher say. She whispered it, but whispering is still audible to me.
"Oh, don't say that, sweetheart, there's plenty of nice people in Dimmadelphia," Said my Mom, her eyes glued to the road.
I roll my eyes and utter, "It's Always Sunny in Dimmadelphia says otherwise."
"How do you know that show?"
I didn't think she'd hear that over the pop music coming from the stereo, "Know what?" My eyes look away from her, and suddenly, the trees next to the highway are way more interesting than before.
My Dad turns in his seat to look at me, "Look, Hazelnut, I know moving to a place that is known to be a little on the rough side is scary." All cities were on the rough side. "California was no different."
Wrong, it was different. "California is my home, I'm used to that roughness." I lean out of my seat, my hands pulling at my sweater sleeves, "And, Antony always protected me, but he's not here and–"
The left passenger seat was empty; he always sat there. Instead, a cooler full of drinks and snacks took his place.
"He's not here," I sigh.
This isn't fair. I want to go back home. I know Mom and Dad are telling me that he'll visit, but I don't want to hear it. Talking about him visiting doesn't put him in the car with me.
Why couldn't he switch schools? Why couldn't he delay it? Why'd he have to leave? Why do you have to move out to go to school?
It's stupid.
It's all so stupid.
This trip is stupid.
Dad's job is stupid.
This car that keeps going from hot to cold is stupid.
Everything is stupid, and it sucks, and I hate all of it.
"Are we there yet?" I look over to catch a glimpse of the GPS. "We've got another forty-two minutes left, Baby," said Mom as if that time wasn't absurd. "Forty-eight if traffic, and that's not including the nights at the motels," Dad added.
I try to open the car door, but the child lock keeps it shut, so much for a daring escape. Guess I'll keep watching my home getting farther away through the window.
And I did just that, hours of watching and sleeping in the car or a musty motel. On the 3rd day, we finally made it to Dimmadelphia, Pennsylvania, my new home.
It was evening, sky already flowing with orange and purple hues as the sun was ready to sleep. I felt my body grow heavier as the sun sank lower.
"Okay, Hazel," Dad parked the car in front of the building, "Put on your jacket, we can't have anyone seeing you, alright?"
Despite it growing dark, the streets were well-lit. Anyone could look out their window and see me, which wasn't bad per se, but it wasn't good.
I grab my jacket, waiting for Dad to shut off the car before unfastening my seat belt and slipping it on. It used to belong to Antony, just like my sweater.
However, the red jacket was baggy on me, the sleeves covering my hands, and the hood falling over my face. This was good for hiding my body, but a little annoying to wear.
Mom put her jacket on as well; she got out of the car before me. The weight of the car shifted to the right, then creaked back up to its regular height. She opened the door for me, glowing orange eyes peaking out from under her dark hood.
"Thanks," I hop out of the car, zipping up my jacket. Dad had a portable cart set up, boxes already getting stacked on.
This is supposed to be a quick in-and-out operation. Get as many boxes in as possible before someone drives by or looks out their window and sees me or–
"Angela?" Dad called. "Can you take Hazel inside while I get these together?" He reaches into his pocket, then his other. His eyes grow wide behind his glasses as he pats himself down.
"Don't worry," Mom holds out the keys and gives them a little jiggle. "I have them right here, Marcus." She takes my soft hand into her rough one. "Let's head inside, baby."
We tried taking the elevator, but the sound of rats grew as the elevator descended made us rush for the stairs before the doors could open.
The apartment was nice, but it wasn't as good as the one back home. That was a house; this is arguably a conjoined room hotel suite with more walls.
Apparently, Mom and Dad had those people who helped move your stuff bring our furniture already. I let go of her hand to find my room, because that meant, "My bed!"
I ran over to my wooden bunk bed, sprawling my body across it. "I missed you," I kiss the mattress. "I could fall asleep right now."
"Oh no, you don't, we still have boxes to unpack, and your Dad could use our strength." Mom walks into the room, looking around as if checking whether it's good enough for her baby.
It was alright to me, but there was also nothing here but a bunk with no sheets or pillows. The room felt a bit liminal, and the longer I stood in it, the more uncomfortable I became. "Yeah, I'll help. I don't like how naked this bedroom is."
I heard Mom snort. That was good. She hasn't been very smiley this week. I guess moving away is just as hard for her as it is for me.
Not just leaving home, but her firstborn must be awful. She misses him just as much as I do. I get off the bed and walk over to her.
An orange ray of light shone through the window, making a path for Mom to stand in the center of. Her tail, which was usually swaying in the air, was lowered, and her eyes were red from exhaustion, crying, or both.
I thought I heard crying late at night in the first motel, but I was half asleep when it happened. Clearly, she was trying to keep it together.
Awful, I feel completely awful. From the moment I was told we were moving I thought I was the only one who was upset about it. Mom and Dad tried comforting me about it, "You'll make new friends" and "Antony will visit."
None of it helped, if anything it made them look perfectly fine they were leaving home. But, they grew up there too, made memories, had a family, and would be just as sad to leave it all behind for a job.
I'm wrong for thinking otherwise and I should say least comfort Mom than watch her be sad. But, I don't know what to say. Mom was hurting, but I didn't know how to comfort her. Mom is looking at me now. What do I do? Hugs make me feel better; it'll probably make her feel better, too.
I wrap my arms around her as best I could; her body was hard and had no give. She pulled away. At first, I thought I had messed up and made her more depressed. My heart leaps from my throat and down to the hardwood floor.
Mom gets down on her knees and pulls me into a hug. "She liked it," I thought to myself, and wrap my arms around her neck, tucking my face under her chin.
The light from the window fades as stone wings wrap around me. I feel my skin grow solid, a crack on my forehead creeps down between my brows, and another breaks my right cheek.
I tilt my head to the side so my small horns can grow. Bat-like wings sprout from my back, the sound of rocks scraping together muffled under the baggy jacket, and my spear-headed tail with a row of small spikes curls out into the air.
My brown eyes shimmer a bright orange, white iris shrinking into a slit. It felt similar to a light being shone in your eyes, Momentarily painful, then gone.
"Thank you, Baby," Mom said into my tight curls. "I needed that."
I don't pull away. Mom taught me years ago that you don't pull away from a hug until they do, because you never know how much that person needs it. She must have really needed that comfort. Mom didn't let go until Dad found us.
"You two would make the cutest painting, A Gargoyle and her Pebble," Dad set down a stack of boxes labeled "Hazel" in the corner of the room.
Mom pulled away, her wings closing against her back as she stood up. My body shifts back, horns, wings, and tail shrinking into it. Skin of stone turning back to a deep brown made of warm flesh. Eyes lose their glow and dilate. There was pain again, then nothing.
I look over at my boxes, "I should get unpacking, my lamps need to be set up," thinking to myself. Unpacking should be easy; it's just taking stuff out and putting it in place. No different from unpacking after a vacation.
It was nothing like unpacking after a vacation. So many clothes, so many toys, and too little space. Either I put my small mirror and lamp on my dresser, or I put the rocks I hand-painted there.
Rocks or a UV lamp that keeps me from shifting in the middle of the night. Rocks. Lamp. Rocks. Lamp.
"Clifford, Rhonda, Luis, Smoothie, and Garfield," I open the box, taking out each of my beautiful works of art one by one. "Welcome to your new home!" I line up three of my best works on the dresser.
"know, you're overwhelmed. We're in a new city, having to make new friends, and our big brother Antony left us for college." I corrected myself, "Well, he's my brother, not yours. But we gotta roll with the punches! Toughen up, rocks!"
I jab my thumb to my chest proudly, "We're not little kids anymore, we're double digits!" I hold up a one and a zero, ten is a major age to be at. I'm basically an adult now.
"We can handle this, right?" I await an answer from the stone, but only get one of them falling down as a response, if you can call it that. There's no conversation to have while I unpack all these boxes.
"I wish Antony were here to help me unpack," I look over at the pile of empty and untouched boxes in the corner, then back to the rocks, "And keep me from talking to a bunch of rocks."
They can't talk back, but maybe I can make them. I pick up my fallen work of art and give it life, "Tis I, the good rock fairy Rocktilda." I said in my best fairy Godmother voice.
"Since you are so kind and true of heart and cute and spunky, I've decided to grant you one wish," Says Rocktilda. I gasp, a wish? For me? "Thank Rocktilda! I am pretty great aren't I?"
Now, what do use my wish on? One isn't enough, a good, perfect like pebble like deserves more. "I wish for unlimited wishes!"
Rocktilda gasped dramatically, "That wasn't the deal!" Deal? There was no deal to begin with. This rocks fairy established she was my Godmother, that means she has to do what I say.
"Too late you doink, you've been outsmarted now start granting!" I loom over the trembling rock fairy, laughing maniacally. Lightning striking over the apartment.
"Muahaha–"
"Hazel," called out Mom. "How are things progressing in there?"
"Need any help, Hazelnut?" Asked Dad.
I was cleared my throat, "I'm fine, thanks!" Rocktilda looked less magical to me now, the lightning I imagined gone. "If you are a fairy, you can tell me."
No response.
"I'll follow the rules and just make the one wish. I just want my brother here okay."
The poorly painted rock said nothing.
I sighed, "Yeah, that's what I thought." There's no Rocktilda, there's no fairy, those guys were myths anyways.
I wish they were real.
DING DONG
Was that the doorbell? No one knew they were here except for Antony… Antony!
"Is that him?!" I drop my rock, "Is he visiting early?" My legs move across the floor. I rush out my room, going around the ladder Dad was on to screw in UV bulbs.
"Whoa, slow down!" Dad warned.
I couldn't slow down, my big brother is just behind that door! Mom puts on a necklace, in a poof of smoke she's turns human, "Uh– no running in the house, please!'
I climb over the couch to get around the boxes, "It's an apartment!" The door is closer than ever. I grab the handle, turn it and open the door.
A puff of pink smoke comes into the apartment, it smelled like fruit loops and gummy bears. Either some is hot boxing the hallway, Antony taught me that. Or, it's a very obvious gas leak.
The smoked cleared, I could feel my heart beating excitedly in my heart. I'm going to give him the biggest hug.
"Antony‐"
Two adults, a man and women, stood outside the door, both looking to be in their mid 20s.
The man had bright green spiky hair, green eyes, matching green bowling shirt, black sweat pants, and sandals with socks.
The woman, had just as bright, pink eyes and hair that curled upwards in the front, resembling a swiss roll. Her hair curled in the back and around her ears as well. She adorned a yellow, short sleeves collar shirt and bow in the front, dark pink pants, and yellow converse.
The couple had matching smiles and smelled like sugar, spice, and purity. I'm confident these aren't humans, humans eyes aren't that color and don't have the scent of freshly baptized individual. Which isn't possible because it's a regular smegular Friday.
I want to shut the door on them and go back to unpacking, but instead I let a out a complete and utterly disappointed–
"Huh?"