Eisenhut

Chapter 1

"Your mother and father have gone away for a while," was all the Officer told me on possibly the worst day of my entire existence. The words that stuck with me for the next ten years of my life and the sentence that left millions of questions buzzing around a confused little girl's head.

The babysitter who was caring for me on the day that haunted me all my life was called into the next room for a private conversation. I heard every word, however, despite the distracting police sirens and lights mocking me outside.

"I can't believe they're both dead!" the babysitter cried, as she was handed a box of tissues by another cop, "Julia - that poor child, she'll be an orphan,"

"Miss Harper are you aware of any local family members for Julia?"

"No," she sniffed, "the Bachmeiers relocated here a couple of years ago, they left all their family behind,"

"Okay. In that case we have no choice but to place Julia into temporary foster care,"

"May I ask... what happened?"

There was a very long pause and I could imagine the Officers exchanging glances.

"Mr and Mrs Bachmeier were involved in the murder of a young man and when they failed to compromise with the Officers on duty... they had no choice but to shoot. They both died at the scene,"

Of course as a naïve six year old, the conversation I had overheard meant nothing to me. It was only over the next few years that I gradually put pieces of the puzzle together and fully understood the awful situation.

I was subsequently placed into foster care early the next morning and remained there for two years. It feels like a blur now, but they were an elderly couple with grown up children and I was moved on when they basically had enough of me.

Being forced into countless homes and uncomfortable situations eventually took its toll on me. The anger inside of me slowly built up, and like a stick of dynamite, I eventually exploded. I was taken to a number of doctors for calming medicines, anti-depressants and even tests to see if I had a behavioural disorder. To be frank, my anger got so bad that even I couldn't explain it. I had sailed past the burning desire for closure on my parents' death and instead wanted an explanation as to why all I felt was rage.

A series of odd occurrences began to happen, symbolising the start of my journey. Shortly after my fifteenth birthday, my eyes started to weirdly change colour. The once deep chocolate brown had changed so drastically that people began noticing and I even started receiving compliments. After weeks of confusion and actually being quite scared, I put the flicker of golden amber in my eyes down to my outbursts. They seemed to glow most prominently at that stage and I thought it could be some sort of chemical igniting my eyes.

The next key milestone in my journey was much more terrifying and I was actually hospitalised due to the poisonous dug found in my bloodstream: Wolfsbane. The doctors feared for my life and I actually made the news. "How is this girl not dead?" No one could explain it.

The medics pulled up my parents' medical records and found that both of them were in the same position as me, meaning I had obviously inherited it.

There was nothing that could be done about the wolfsbane in my blood. My samples were even sent to universities and laboratories across the world to justify an explanation - but absolutely nothing came back.

Looking back, I realised these were all signs of my transition. However I was yet to face the final hurdle, the thing that would ruin my normal life but open up a new one, a better one with an actual family just like me. I had to face my transformation.

The symbolic moment was anything but exciting. It was horrible, excruciatingly painful the first time. I scared everyone, even myself, as I was compared to an untamed wild beast. Just imagine, your whole life questioning who you are and why you're so different, longing for your parents to tell you you're normal and that everything will be okay. But my burning desire to be accepted took a long while to happen.