Manimal Crackers

No Dad, I'm Not Trying To Run Away From Home!

But that made me think. Ever since I was a little girl, I've had a deep fascination with science, especially science fiction. Science is, after all, the art of mankind trying to usurp the limits of reality to create something new, something, well, different. 

This led me to think: what if Dr. Jonathan Chase was being followed by a deranged grad student who wanted to usurp his stem cells to create more Manimals? And of course, he'd be more than happy to kidnap his teenage daughter along the way as well, assuming she has the powers as well.

I decided to take a walk to clear my mind. I really needed a break from all of the technology of the modern world, anyway.

I went to the supermarket to buy a "Dr. Who" costume. Halloween was just around the corner. Typically we drive there, but I didn't want to take Dad out of his way after all I put him through.

As I walked towards the store, I noticed how beautiful my town was in the middle of Fall. With Hailee Steinfeld's "Love Myself" playing in my head, as well as my latest story idea, I could finally enjoy how amazing nature was, even in seemingly mundane places. Even the houses themselves, with their colors and antiques, were quite charming from my view- even if they were "technically" from New Jersey.

With my mind totally clear from the static and stimulation of electronics, I was finally able to ponder my story idea "What if Manimal's daughter wrote her little adventures down in a notebook?" I thought. "It could look like one of those hokey girly girl shows from the 90's and early Y2K era. (Not familiar with those kinds of shows? Do a Google search- I can't be bothered to explain it here.) And of course, I'll call it The Diary Confessions of A Young Shape-shifting Professor's Daughter. This could totally work!"

Unfortunately, I got so entranced in thought that after I walked back from the supermarket, I got totally lost and couldn't find my way back home.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared. "Um....who are you?" I asked.

"Jessica, it's me Simon, Simon MacCorkindale," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I needed a walk to clear my head so that I could work on my script," I said. "Frankly, it's really hard to do this when you're connected to the internet all the goddamn time."

"You're still lost in the middle of nowhere," he said. "I'll have to tell your father about this."

"No, please!" I begged, until I realized that if my dad got here, then Simon could tell him "what" was going on and he could take me home.

"Jessica, where are you?" asked Dad.

"Excuse me, Professor, your daughter is in the middle of town and honestly doesn't know where she is."

"Are you sure?" he said. "Look at the street signs and see where you are."

And lo and behold, I looked up, and the sign said "15 Arbor Way."

"I'm at 15 Arbor Way, Simon," I told him.

"She's at 15 Arbor Way," said Simon. "Can you please come and pick me up? It's kind of an emergency."

"Okay, stay where you are, I'll come get you," said Dad. "Anyways, thanks for calling us instead of the police. We don't need them having a file on you."

"Okay, will do," I said.

Waiting for Dad was much harder than I expected it to be. How was he going to react? Was he going to yell at me? Would he be angry? Would he punish me? I tried to speak, but couldn't say a word.

As I was in the middle of thought, my dear father finally came up to me, honking the horn of his car, pestering me and Simon to get in, with a slightly annoyed, but not really angry, look on his face.

"I was just going for a walk, I didn't realize how far I went!" I shrieked. "Dad, I am so sorry!"

"It's okay," he said. "The important thing is that you don't do it ever again. Next time you go for a walk, tell me exactly where you're going. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," I said, trying to listen to him.

"I'm pretty sure your daughter knows what it's like to have a strong grip on things," said Simon. 

"You won't have to worry about her anytime soon."

"Okay, good," said Dad. "Glad we're all on the same page."

When I got back, I didn't even bother typing up material for my script. I felt too guilty about what I had done.

But luckily, my father had just prepared a delicious chicken dinner for us to eat, so I could at least eat away my feelings.

I was going to need better inspiration for my script.