What I've always known

3. Going away

    I wake up with a jerk when the alarm bell rings and reminds me that I have a long day ahead of me—six hours of flight and one hour of driving until I arrive at my destination. The people I'm going to live not centrally but rather out in the country, or something, I'm not really sure. According to the maps I'm looking at, they live on the outskirts if you're going to judge by the address I got. Even though I'm curious and even a little excited about the trip, I can't help but feel anxious either. What if something goes wrong? So far, I've barely met anyone since I got Aila in my mind; what if I lose control?

    What if any of them make me angry or something? From the information Aila daily feeds me with, I understand that there are two ways to turn into her animal form, either via ordinary shifting when I'm in control or feeling a strong sense like resentment. Since I am the antisocial person I am, I have not trained to control my emotions, among others, and that thought scares me more than I dare to admit. I'm not a violent person by nature, but both me and Aila have strong personalities, which can end terribly if we get angry. We're not the submissive type.

    However, that is not something I should think about right now, because it's time to leave! I usually dress in dark clothes in shades of gray and black, but I have dressed in a little happier colors for unusual reasons. A belly shirt that says "Warning! I've lost my mind, if you happen to find it, don't touch it! It's extremely dark and dirty" that shows my navel piercing, a pair of light blue tight waist jeans, white converse, my leather jacket and of course the baseball cap that I always have back and front. I pick my headphones, keys, wallet, and my luggage with me. With sunglasses on, I walk out the door towards new adventures.

    I wave a taxi to me down the street and sit down in the back seat while the driver loads my bags into the trunk. He slams the trunk shut and sits down in the driver's seat. I ask him to drive to the airport and put on my headphones. My favorite song "Sweet but Psycho" by Ava Max plays, and I take the opportunity to send an email to my boss that I forgot to notify. He responds to the message quickly and tells me that the customer has already paid for my absence for two weeks; it seems that we had similar plans about how long I will be staying.

    The driver taps me on the shoulder, and when I look up, I realize that we have arrived at the destination. I smile sheepishly and climb out of the car. He hands over my luggage, and I give him a little extra tip for my distraction. I walk into the airport and hand in my luggage; apparently, Mrs. Hasting has paid for the "express," whatever that means. I find out when I show my ticket and get the opportunity to climb aboard the plane right away; she has also booked me in first-class; how cool is that!? I almost feel like a celebrity when I sink into the divinely comfortable seat.

    I put on my seat belt and pick up my favorite book to try and read. The book is about a half-vampire named Rose, who is the protector of her best friend, who is a thoroughbred vampire from a royal dynasty, it is excellent. But not even a good book can keep me awake after too little sleep and all the stress from this morning. I put the book back in my hand luggage and tilt the seat backward to lay down comfortably. It takes a while before I manage to fall asleep, but I notice how heavy my eyelids turn into the sound of the flight attendant going through the security check.

~*~*~*~

    I wake up by the pilot asking us to put on the seat belts because it's time to land, and I never took it off, so there's no problem for me. When we are at ground level, the pilot thanks us for choosing their company, and then we walk out. I walk to the luggage-pick up and wait to see my bags on the treadmill. Thankfully, I find them quickly, which I guess is yet another advantage of the "express" thing that Mrs. Hasting paid for. I walk out of the airport with bags in hand and meet the warming sun that shines brightly. I receive the rays gratefully, given that I am a hermit that rarely is outside in the sun; I take the opportunity to enjoy when I can.

    The car rental company is the next step in my program for the day, and luckily it's across the street. I walk in, stand in line and wait patiently for my turn. When I mention Mrs. Hasting's name, he runs away to get the keys. Believe me, I've never seen a man pick up anything as fast as he does at that moment. I thank him and walk out to the back where all the cars are parked. The car I'm going to drive is standing there, shining in the sun, my dream car, a Cadillac escalade. I have always had a great interest in vehicles; I have inherited it from my father.

    I put my bags in the back seat and climb into the high car's driver's seat. It's not far off that I get wet when I hear the engine spinning when I start it. I get a little depressed when I think about finally getting to drive my dream car, and my dad is not here to experience it with me. Instead of thinking about the dark memories, I put in the address I got from Mrs. Hasting in the GPS and drove out of the parking lot. I have the worst sense of direction in the world. I promise you; it's a curse! Even though I have the GPS, I manage to take the wrong exit twice on the way to the cabin I'm going to live in the coming weeks.

    Finally, I arrive, and the cottage gives me a "lumberjack," feeling the facade consisting of timber logs. The house has a small front porch with a sofa swing, a small wooden table, and a rocking chair. Under the carpet lies the key that Mrs. Hasting left to me, and I unlock the door. When I come in, I don't know where to look; it's incredible! The kitchen, dining room, and living room are put together as a large room, except for the small toilet next to the kitchen, everything is top of the line! It's full of equipment in all sorts of appliances I could possibly need, a shiny mahogany dining room table with six chairs, a large seating area with leather sofas, and even an open fire!

    I walk up the wooden stairs and come to a corridor with four doors—one door on the left side, two on the right, and one in the middle farthest from the staircase. The left door leads me to an office-like room with bookshelves along the walls, full of all sorts of literature a bookworm like me could possibly need; I even do a little happy dance. The right side of the hallway has a large bathroom with both jacuzzi, a shower with massage options built-in, and a large bathtub with golden feet that keeps it up. The second room is a simple bedroom with a single bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a small tv on the wall opposite the bed.

    The last room I'm going to sleep in holds a king-size bed with soft Egyptian cotton sheets, a large tv opposite the bed, a walk-in wardrobe, a small balcony with two chairs, and a door leading into the contiguous bathroom. The bathroom holds the basic; a sink, a shower, and a toilet. I walk down again and open the glass door leading out to the garden behind the house. Do you realize how lucky I am when there is a lake with a dock 99 feet from the house!? In addition to the fantastic little lake, there is a grill on the small veranda and two sun loungers next to it; the house's whole wall is full of rose bushes that disappear around the corner.

    I walk back to the car to pick up my bags and head upstairs to unpack my stuff. It does not take long to put everything in place; I do not have much with me. I walk down to the kitchen and inspect the pantries. All the cabinets, the fridge, and the freezer are full of everything you can imagine. Probably, Mrs. Hasting did not want me to starve during my stay here; unfortunately, it looks like I will still have to go to a shop, given the lack of snacks. I'll have to fix it later or tomorrow; I can't do without my beloved junk! My phone vibrates, and I open the message.

'Hello and welcome to Mexico!

Hopefully, your trip went well, and you've arrived at the cabin safely. You drove past a small town on the way to the cottage, and I don't blame you if you missed it; because it really isn't something outsiders notice. Regardless, I'm here now and thought it would be great fun to meet you! How about seeing you at the diner in an hour?'

'Hey!

Absolutely, we can do that. See you there!'

    I run upstairs to prepare for the meeting with Mrs. Hasting. There's no way I can take a shower, considering I'm a long-showerer, short showers don't exist in my world. I wash off in the sink, put on makeup, and make two French braids. With the cap on my head and the sunglasses on, I hurry back down the stairs. I take the keys, wallet, and phone with me when I hurry out. It is not far to drive from the cottage to the city; according to the GPS, it should not take more than fifteen minutes; but given my sense of space, it's going to take longer.

    Just as I suspected, I'm already late when I arrive at the place; in addition, there are no free parking spaces outside the diner. I turn around and park the car at something that looks to be a small shopping center before half-sprinting towards the restaurant. On the way there, it always feels like the others are looking at me, but they look away every time I turn around. Do I have dirt on my face, or what the hell is their problem!? In the end, I arrive and walk through the door, the bell above it clings, everyone in there silences when they see me. A short woman with short dark hair comes up to me after some minute with a big smile.

"There you are! I almost thought you disappeared on the road," she laughs, stretching out her hand. "Cassidy Hasting."

"Katerina," I answer and shake her hand; I notice that others around react to my Hispanic accent.

"Did the trip here go well?" asks Mrs. Hasting, and I answer with a nod. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"

"Not directly," I answer with a sigh, sit down opposite her in the booth and take off my sunglasses.

    Everything stops in the room when the sunglasses are off, and I don't know why. Mrs. Hasting gasps when she sees me and a tear falls from her eye. Sure, I'm not the best-looking person in the world, but I can hardly be so intimidating that others have to stare at me like I'm a freak? I raise an eyebrow and look questioningly at Mrs. Hasting, who hasn't stopped staring at me a single time since she got to see my whole face. With a trembling hand, she gently caresses my cheek, and more tears fall from her dark brown eyes.

"What's your full name, honey?" she asks in a shaky voice.

"Katerina Aurora Mercia?" I answer, but it sounds more like a question than an answer. "What's going on?"

"You're the one we've been looking for," she replies, smiling and hugging me while I feel more confused than ever before.