I come home to an empty apartment. Though it’s not unusual, Dad promised he would be home on this night. So that’s why I rush through the door eagerly. “Dad?”
No answer.
Maybe he was in his office. I tried to give myself a reason to hope but it was already clear that he had skipped out on me again. I checked anyway just to confirm it. The door was closed and locked with no lights on and no response when i knocked. Don’t be disappointed. I tell myself. I’m used to this. It happens all the time. Why bother getting my hopes up? He never keeps his word. All it takes is one little task at work and he forgets.
I have come to expect disappointment.
I take a deep breath and make my way back to the kitchen. The dark polished rock counter-tops gleam in the dim evening light. I open the fridge. as expected, there is nothing. I slam the door. i’m not that hungry anyway. Maybe i’ll buy something to eat when I go out later. somehow the thought makes me feel better. I can take care of myself.
I throw myself down on the couch and turn on the TV. After an hour or so, i begin to get restless. It’s eight o clock. I tell myself to wait another hour just for the sake of seeing if he shows up. Surely he won’t forget his promise to spend some father-son time with me. But i already know how it’s going to be.
Turning to the news, i try to think about something else. I want to see if there’s any news on the mutation crisis.
“And now, the director of HAPE will have a last minute press conference on the arising issue of the disease.”
My fingers wrap around the end of the arm of the couch. I feel my jaw clench as i lean forward. and there, on the 50 inch screen before me, is my father. He’s looking rather smart, all dressed up in a suit and tie without strand of his greying hair out of place. He looks confident, at ease, as he looks around the room from behind the podium. The face, every crease around the eyes and mouth that I know so well, looks strange on TV. He lacks expression as he begins to speak.
My fingers grip tighter, digging into the fabric of the couch. I barely notice. He didn't forget. That's just how much he cares about promises.
I feel like a disappointed child. But Daddy, you promised! Surely by now I would be used to this.
“. . .unfortunately getting worse.” He is saying. He pauses. cameras click and flash. “something must be done to contain the spread of this disease. though there has been noticeably lower rates of death, the number of affected are increasing. and recently, there has been a new development. The stages of the disease are changing. instead of the symptoms we have come to recognize it with, there have been more mutations. the rate of survival is higher, as you may know. but as of now there is no cure for the permanent changes.”
In other words, they can’t figure out why people are becoming freaks.
Tyrus- Dad- seems to realize all of a sudden that he should appear a little more sympathetic. I see the instant he forces a mask of sadness into his expression. I lean back on the couch, legs crossed, and smirk. He’s such a liar. It runs in the family.
“Yes, this is a major problem we have on our hands. the medical research institute is working around the clock on a solution. time is quickly running out, however,, it is out children that are being most affected by this disease that has cursed us for generations. For the sake of their future, I am willing to do whatever it takes to put a stop to this.”
Most people arn’t going to see it, but I do. I notice that look in his eyes, the curl at the edge of his lips. He has an idea. He’s going to do something crazy. I know that look because I’ve worn it many times myself.
“Soon there will be new laws. Laws that will prevent the diseased from plaguing the streets. anyone and everyone no matter the age or status will be removed if they show signs of the disease. police will be given the authority to test random suspects. this will slow the spread of the contagion and will ensure the safety of the general public. the mutations are dangerous and unnatural. the full extent of these effects is not known. further problems will arise if something is not done. Something is going to be done and it will happen soon.” Tyrus looks around the crowd solemnly, his eyes turn to the camera. A shudder runs down my spine. He’s not talking about the new law. I know he can’t see me, but he’s thinking about me.
My father hates mutants and is very smart. that is why he is in such a powerful place. He’s a good leader, concerned for people above everything else. But it’s this combined with a hatred that he keeps hidden for the mutations that drive him to be so agressively successful.
I would agree with him. but it’s bit more complicated than that.
A lot more complicated. . .
YOU ARE READING
Shape Shifter
Science FictionThe people on Nita are plagued with a disease that leaves survivors with unusual powers. Kevin, a teenage boy with the ability to shape shift, is the son of the man in charge of trying to stop the mutations. He was told to keep his powers a secr...