*Beep! Beep! Beep!*
I groaned, stirring from under my covers. It was once again 7 AM, Monday morning. Would today finally be a break from the norm?
"Rise and shine, Rove!"
Nope, there's my little sis, right on schedule.
I sat up and gave my best fake smile. "I'm up, Bea. What's for breakfast?"
She's practically bursting with excitement as she stands in my doorway, replying, "Bacon pancakes!"
I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Alright, just give me a few minutes to get ready."
She nodded, before skipping back down the hallway.
I should probably introduce myself. My name is Rove Hummel (no middle name), and I'm 15 years old. I'm 5' 3", and have dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a cleft chin. I've lived here in Akron, Ohio for all my life with my sister Beatrice and our mom, Mazarine. I enjoy writing and collecting baseball cards, and thanks to both Bea and a friend, I'm peripherally aware of a certain show about magical ponies.
And, up until today, my life has been pretty much stuck on repeat. Every day is the same routine: Wake up, get ready, go to school, sit in class, get back home, and do whatever until I go back to sleep. What I wouldn't give for just ONE interesting week!
Well, it seems that fate had reached the same conclusion, as I was soon about to learn.
After I took a shower, I ducked into my closet and grabbed an outfit, pulling it on. A strange thrumming had begun in my head, but I dismissed it as it wasn't too bothersome.
Once properly dressed, I made my way to the kitchen, where Mazarine was serving up breakfast. "Good morning, Rove," she said in her usual chipper tone.
My Mom is an interesting woman. Born and raised in Grove City, she grew up decently comfortable. When she was in college (majoring in the culinary arts), she met my Dad, Halley, at a school football game. He'd accidentally fallen over the bleachers, and she helped him up. They got to know each other, and soon, they started dating, eventually getting married in Fall 2004.
Eventually, the 2005 draft came, and my Dad was assigned to head out to FOB Caldwell in Iraq. Five years later, he returned home, and they celebrated, having me in the process. And two years after that, Bea came as well.
Now, Mazarine works a sous-chef on the night shift at a three-star French restaurant downtown (running the place with a passion as fiery as her strawberry blond hair). Meanwhile, my dad has been drafted again, this time being posted at Camp Dwyer in Afghanistan.
"Morning, Mom," I greeted her in kind, sitting down next to Beatrice at the table. "So Bea, got anything planned for today?"
My sister Beatrice is now 13, and is just shy of 5'. She has bright blond hair, dimples, and attached earlobes, and she's very spunky. In fact, when she was little, she was so energetic that Mom likened her to a "busy little bee", hence her nickname.
She nodded, pulling out her phone. "Today's Cliché Day, so I'm gonna perform all the clichés I can!"
Yep, that's Beatrice alright. Ever since last year, she's been obsessed with giving each and every day its own holiday. Today was November 3rd, and according to a site she'd found on the internet, that meant it was Cliché Day.
That same site had also said it was Housewife's Day and Sandwich Day, but whatever; one person could only do so much in a day.
But regardless, it was one of the only constant sources of variety I had in my life, and I was all the happier for it. "How's that going for ya so far?"
"Great! I already did the 'sibling wakes up sibling' cliché, and I'm getting a headstart at lampshading!"
I chuckled. "Glad I could help with that first one."
Mazarine served my breakfast, a plate of bacon pancakes. "What about you, Rove? You have any plans for today?"
I shrugged, cutting up a piece of pancake. "Not much; just gonna go to school, hang out with Osmond, and that's about it."
Mazarine frowned. "Again?"
I nodded. "I know it's the same thing I've done all semester, but I can't really help it; none of the after-school activities interest me."
This wasn't strictly true; there was, after all, a writer's club. However, when I first tried to join, I discovered it to be filled with self-important ass-hats who treat everything they write as "high art", even though they're not actually all that good. That was enough to drive me away from joining, and their continued attendance has kept me away ever since.
Mom shrugged. "Alright, if you say so. Still, you really ought to get some more variety in your life."
"I'm trying, Mom," I rolled my eyes, idly scratching my scalp.
Not much else was said after that. We all finished our breakfast, before Bea and I packed our bags and headed out the door to walk to school.
As we walked, Bea looked around. The cold weather had recently arrived, but not the snow, so everything was looking particularly desaturated.
Her gaze turned to me, and she suddenly frowned. "Is it just me, or are your eyes... Blue-er?"
I paused, then whipped out my phone and opened the front-facing camera. I squinted at my image on the screen, then raised an eyebrow. "Huh, that's odd."
Bea suddenly gasped. "Ooh, I have a cliché for this!"
I looked at her in bemusement. "Alright, let's hear it."
She then moved her hands to her hips as she mocked, "I've got a baaad feeling about this!"
We both had a good chuckle at that.
But then I looked back at my phone, at the strange sight of my more saturated eyes. It was rather strange, wasn't it?
I shrugged as I put away my phone, my minor headache returning. It wasn't hurting me, after all.
Eventually, we reached my school. I waved her off as she continued to her own, and I walked into the front doors. Students bustled around the hallways, some chatting to each other, others going through their lockers, and a few headed off to places unknown.
And waiting right by the entrance was my best friend Osmond Bellamy. "What's up, Rove?"
Os was a stand-up guy, and my best friend since 3rd Grade. He was half Swedish on his mother's side and half Korean on his father's, had hazel eyes, muddy blonde hair that nearly fell down to his shoulders, attached ear lobes, and a rather slim build that still backed a bit of power behind it. He enjoyed occasional karaoke, and lived in the suburbs with his mom (his father had divorced her for some reason I wasn't privy to).
I waved back, "Not much, Os."
We exchanged a high five, then he looked over me. "Yo, what's up with your eyes?"
I shrugged, "I dunno, man; it sorta just happened."
He teased, "Maybe you're becoming a cartoon character or something."
I playfully elbowed him. "Yeah, right. The day that happens is the day I give up my cards."
We both exchanged chuckles at that. Like me, Osmond was a serious card collector, although his range expanded outside of just baseball cards. He had football cards, Pokémon cards, MLP cards, and even a few tarot cards. In fact, we'd originally met when I brought a baseball card for show and tell, and he came up to me afterward to talk about it.
Oh, that's right; Osmond is that Brony friend I mentioned. He jumped on right at the tail end of season 2, when these things called "Changelings" attacked the capital city. He'd shown me some pictures from time to time, and I had to admit, the Changelings looked rather cool for a show of its calibur.
After that exchange, we continued to banter as we casually strolled down the hall. The topics ranged from card collecting to bands we liked, and jokes were crammed in every chance we got.
"Hey, did you hear about Lily?" Osmond eventually asked.
I shook my head, unaware of the news about our third, more distant friend. "What about her?"
"She's been holed up in her house since Saturday. She still answers her phone, but she refuses to come in for school."
I blinked. "Okay, that's weird, even for her." She'd always been rather reserved, but not to this level.
"I know, right?" He shook his head. "I keep trying to ask her mom about it, but she won't give any straight answers. Seems really nervous, though."
"Well, maybe she—"
I flinched as my headache spiked momentarily. Osmond took notice and asked, "You okay, dude?"
I nodded, rubbing my temple. "Just got a bit of a headache."
Before Osmond could reply, the bell rang. "Wish I could help, but we need to get to class now. Hope you get better, dude!"
I nodded, waving as he hustled off to first period. Standing there, I pondered the situation. My eyes have turned brighter blue, Lily's gone AWOL, and I've got a continuous headache.
What's going on?
I shook my head. Whatever it was, it could wait until lunch.
Throughout the morning, I kept getting momentary spikes in my headache, each worse than the last. My shoulders also began to ache at some point, and I swore I could hear faint buzzing. But I had to power through and get through classes.
Then, during Biology, something happened.
I was sitting there, watching as Mr. Adler explained natural selection, when my headache flared up again, much more powerfully than last time. It was so intense, in fact, that I actually let out a grunt.
Then it flared up again, even more intensely. I staggered at the disorientation, then reeled at a third flare.
Only this time, the flare didn't stop.
I clutched my head as the splitting headache tore at me with all the force of a semi-truck. The pain in my shoulders also flared up, causing me to lean backwards in an attempt to counteract it. The headache caused a dizzy spell to hit me, making me nearly fall out of my chair, but I managed to stay on somehow.
But the strangest thing, which I wasn't quite aware of at the time, was that I was changing.
And I mean really changing!
My skin hardened and turned black; my hair thinned out and greyed, standing straight on end in a mohawk; a bent conical protrusion formed out from my forehead; my canines grew longer as my tongue forked at the end and my mouth extended out into a muzzle; my ears elongated and gained new joints; my hands and feet quickly lost their digits in favor of becoming hard nubs covered in holes; my arms and legs reshaped themselves into a horse's limbs; a wiry tail grew out from the base of my spine; two razor-sharp insectoid wings burst out of my back, tearing through my shirt; my entire body shrunk and reshaped itself; and, although nobody could see it, my eyes turned a solid blue, with a slightly lighter iris.
The entire class, whose attention I'd drawn by that point, stared in silent shock as the transformation completed, and the pain subsided, allowing me a moment to catch my breath.
After a moment of respite, I took inventory of myself, but immediately froze as soon as I saw my holey arm.
I recognized this arm.
I turned to look myself over again, confirming my suspicions.
I just became a Changeling.
Right in the middle of fucking Biology Class.
...I did ask for an interesting week, didn't I?