Scales

Runaway Skylar

Skylar Caperfield shoved her left foot into a tan boot. Then her right foot. She headed for the door, then stopped. "My jacket," she said, quickly grabbing her KU sweatshirt from the closet. Skylar was from Kansas, but had moved here to Minnesota after her father died so her mom could marry Robert Tomspon. She was still a Caperfield, though. Before she left the room she looked at her terrarium and her chameleon, Fang. She stared. "Fang, come on," she said, taking the small lizard out of the terrarium. "We're leaving." Then they left together.

Skylar walked along, her school backpack swung over her left shoulder, Fang on her right, and a chocolate chip cookie in her hand. She took a bite. Delicious. It was her mom's recipe, though her mom never made them anymore. Not since Mikey started dying. Chocolate chip cookie brought back so many memories. Memories she purposely shoved down in fear she would burst out in tears. She was a strong girl; her had told her she need to be. That was two years ago, and Skylar honestly didn't feel that strong anymore.

She shook her head. No. She didn't need that life anymore. She'd find her way through this world...somehow. She came to an old tree house. "Hmm..." Skylar looked up at it carefully. "Let's check it out," she told the chameleon calmly. "Maybe we can stay here for a while." They climbed to rope ladder up into the main part of the house; a beat up old room with missing planks in the sides. She scanned the room until she found a small box in the far corner. Pulling out her flashlight, she opened its lid-it once had a lock, but someone had busted it long ago-and pulled out the contents. A black leather book with special scaly detail lay inside. It was at least ten years old, maybe more. Skylar turned to the first page which, ironically enough, had been ripped out. The second page was entitled "October 30, 1976".

"October 30?" Skylar asked, confused. That was Skylar's birthday. She stared down at the page.

My mother wants me to stop writing in you, journal. She says it's a foolish human practice. But I'm still half human-like I said, I was cursed to be a half forever-and I like writing in you. I've actually learned much English (though sometimes I mess up on the grammer and spelling) I can't be perfect, not spending any time around humans. Not much anyway. Mother doesn't know this (Shh don't tell!) but I've been watching a cute human boy. He has long blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and tan skin that makes me blush. I hope mother doesn't find out! Love, Hope

Hope. That was her mother's name. And that description-so accurately like her father... What did the girl mean? Half human? Cursed? Not spending time around humans? She had to know more. The next page said "October 31, 1976".

Today is Halloween, a traditional American (human too!) holiday. It's the one day mother lets me go out and get human food. I don't have worry about my tail and wings and ears and I can blend in a trick or treat (I hope I spelled that right!) with the people. Well goodbye because I'm leaving now to trick or treat with the humans! Love, Hope