Normalcy

Prologue

I'm totally normal. No really, I am. It's my family that's weird. I swear I'm adopted, though they tell me it's a recessive gene. That's courteous code for 'freak.' Who cares, anyway? Me, that's who. After my sixteenth birthday, things started getting a little strange, and just got weirder and weirder until my eighteenth birthday when I was entrusted to guarding some silly piece of jewelry. A family heirloom, I suppose. The necklace transforms me, and it's not some magical girl priestess type transformation, either. It's like creepy, tall man with huge bat wings type transformation. That is not good, since I am a girl. Oh no, changing genders is not fun. Anyway, I will tell you the story, starting with when I got the necklace that changed my life.

Chapter 1

My mother fluttered her delicate, translucent wings in quick bursts. She was so excited, but I couldn't see why. It was just my grandparents and great grandparents and great-great grandmother coming over. No big deal. They came over for every birthday to get their grubby paws on my cake. I heard a heartfelt yowl from the front door, and my dad rushed through, intent on shutting up the damn tomcat that always hung around.

"I swear, Daddy, it's not like that!" my sister protested loudly, pulling on his arm. The cat yowled again and scratched at the door.

"Well, what is it like, then?!" he demanded angrily, retracting his claws in a pulse like fashion.

"I don't like him like that. He just...can't catch a clue." She shrugged and bolted upstairs before Dad could stop her. He came into the kitchen grumbling.

"Damn boys always hanging around..." My mother sighed lightly and grabbed a large mixing bowl.

"You know she's coming of that age." She sprinkled something sparkly into the bottom of the bowl, and then proceeded to mix the cake batter in. I rolled my eyes. Precisely the reason I couldn't have friends over to the house. My family was weird. There was no way around it. When I was little, the doctors said that my skeleton was deformed, and it looked like the beginnings of a tail. Fortunately that never happened, but I'm told that my children could be born with wings like my mother's, since that is a recessive gene. Needless to say, I'm not having children.

The doorbell rang, and I ran to answer it, almost sliding into the wall in the process. When I opened the door, my grandparents bustled in, decked out in trenchcoats and hats as usual. I heard my sister scream and hiss from somewhere upstairs, and jumped when something heavy thudded above where we stood.

"Still 'normal' I see," my grandfather mused, removing his hat to reveal shaggy, mussed brown hair and equally shaggy brown ears alert atop his head. One always managed to flop down somehow. My grandparents dumped their coats and hats into my arms and made their way into the kitchen to help my mother and father. I couldn't help but look after my grandmother with jealousy. She was beautiful, and still looked to be in her mid-thirties despite her age. I really didn't know what was so different about her, though she did have thin looking pale skin and fangs, which had always made me wonder...My sister tumbled down the stairs in very uncatlike grace and scampered up to me, clawing my shoulders urgently.

"Ow!" I complained, trying to pry her hands off of me.

"The computer! It's got another virus!" she panted frantically and I sighed.

"C'mon, we'll fix it." She led me up to the computer room and I did what anyone other than my sister would know to do. She was literally the most computer-stupid person I had ever met.

After the cake had been served, my great-great grandmother grabbed my hand. Her touch burned. It always had. She was a 'fire maiden' or something like that.

"You are very special," she told me earnestly. I felt my heart swell. She had never said anything like that to me before, and it filled me with pride to hear it on my eighteenth birthday. "I want to give you something also very special. It belonged to your great-great grandfather, who, as you know, passed away two years ago." She looked to her lap sadly as she finished speaking. I felt bad for her. I mean, they'd been married for who knows how many years, and then he suddenly croaked. I nodded to show that I'd heard, understood, and actually cared, and she continued.

"It is a necklace. You must wear it at all times. Never let it leave the touch of your skin." She handed the necklace to me gently. It was still warm from being in her hand for so long. I held it up so I could see it clearly, and was utterly shocked. It was hideous. I was supposed to wear this grotesque thing at all times?

"Can I wear it in the shower, or do I need to take it off?" I asked hopefully, opting not to put it on until they made me. Knowing them, it wouldn't be very long.

"You can wear it anywhere. It will not choke you during the night, guaranteed," my great-great grandmother assured me, patting my thigh. "Go ahead, put it on," she coaxed gently. I seriously contemplated throwing it out the window. But then my nice, docile elder may just decide to burn me to a crisp. I chuckled to myself. That would be a truly humorous experience--or maybe not. I slipped the long silver chain over my head and situated the broach-like charm over my front. It felt warm against my neck, almost uncomfortably so, and I wondered if that was because my great-great grandmother had held it.

"Mother..." my grandmother started, but my great-great grandmother shushed her.

"Soon. Any second now..."

"Is there something I don't know?" I asked warily. I should have known that the necklace was some weird thing that would do something weird, or even make me weird. I shuddered at the thought.

"She's supposed to be different," my great-great grandmother stated in a perplexed tone. "I don't know why she hasn't transformed yet..." I stood, knocking my chair over.

"I like being normal, thankyouverymuch!" I huffed, growing angry.

"But we don't like it." My grandfather crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. I growled low in my throat.

"What is this thing supposed to do to me?!" I screamed, and a burning sensation overtook my body.

"What the hell?" I asked no one in particular.

"It's happening!" My grandmother clapped in excitement, and my sister took that second to waltz into the room.

"Oh...my...god..." she said, and stared. I looked around hotly. Everyone was staring, actually.

"What?!" I demanded, and realized that my voice was exceptionally masculine. "Um..." I looked down instinctively, and fainted.

I awoke in my bed, and sat up so quickly it made the world around me spin and change color. I patted my full chest gratefully. Yes, I was still female. I couldn't help but notice the necklace still in place around my neck. I glanced over at my sister, who blanched visibly. I sighed. She twiddled the claws of her thumbs nervously and spoke.

"I didn't know you were a shape-shifter," she said softly, staring down at her hands. I rolled my eyes. "Have you...spied on me or anything?" she asked, finally looking me in the eye.

"I'm not a shape-shifter, you dumbass." I defended myself. "It's this stupid necklace that they gave me." I tugged at it, and it heated up notably. I released it quickly and stood. I needed sanity.

"Oh, I'm so happy!" My mother fluttered into the room followed by the rest. They all looked very happy, indeed. I wondered why. It wasn't a happy experience for me. I made a mad dash for the bathroom, grabbing up a phone on the way. They wouldn't get me without a fight.

"Taylor!" my father called warningly, moving towards the bathroom door with his fluid, catlike grace. I jumped with all my might. I would make it. Sure I might break a bone or two when I landed, but that was beside the point. I heard a familiar roar from behind me, and ran into the now closed door.

"Ow..." I slid down the white painted wood in an almost comical fashion. Note: almost. It really wasn't very funny to me, but who cares about what I think, anyway? "What the hell was that for?!" I yelled, whirling on my sister, who was the door-shutting bandit. A burning sensation filled my back, near my shoulder blades. I twitched in a place I didn't know I had, and my head twisted to see what exactly it was that had grown. Wings. Of course, how could I not expect large, batlike wings to sprout from my back? I twitched again and glared at my family, who had all congregated at my bedroom door to watch the show. My wings were too small for full-out flight, so I didn't jump out the window, though I was tempted to.

"What do you want from me?" I asked frantically, deflated.

"I was just waiting for you to ask!" my great-great grandmother gushed, sitting down on the bed and beckoning me to sit beside her. I wondered if it would be a good idea or not, but complied. My wings flapped in a very annoying fashion behind me, and I couldn't help but hear the "Aww"s and "How cute"s that ensued.

"Go on. Tell me everything." I sighed and tried to get comfortable, wrapping my wings around my shoulders.

"Oh, I can't tell you everything, but I can tell you some."

"Whatever. Just go on." My patience was running thin. Very thin. My great-great grandmother laughed melodically.

"It all started thousands of years ago, when we--with the exception of you--would have been considered normal," she began, her voice taking on a more narrative quality. "Your ancestors were very powerful and held the power well. They respected humans as they did their own kind, and all lived in peace. That is, until one human with a special gift made the Stone of Power." I wondered what that was, but didn't dare interrupt her story.

"The Stone gave any human who possessed it equal to greater power of those who ruled over them. A fair creation, in theory. And the creator was a fair and good man, with only the best of intentions at heart. Unfortunately, his wife was not so good, and killed him in his sleep, taking the Stone from its protective case and keeping it in a pocket on the inside of her dress.

"She lived to be two hundred years old, and never once did she gain the ruling class she desired, so tight was the hierarchy. Indeed, she died a very unhappy woman, and she only died because her slave stole the Stone from the dress while she was sleeping. What goes around comes around, I always say. Like that time when that horrid woman from Knitting class..." the poor woman rambled on about the sock-stealing, mad-knitting, good-for-nothing for a good thirty minutes before continuing her story.

"The slave sold the Stone to a merchant, gaining a hefty profit from the sale. He had no idea the kind of power he could have possessed if he'd kept it. The merchant took it overseas, and no one bought the Stone. So, growing impatient, the merchant crafted it into the most beautiful necklace and wore it as a beacon for his sales. Much to his delight, his sales rose drastically. Eventually, he too was killed for the power of the Stone. Its powers aided many in its wake, but it ultimately wrought destruction upon those who used it. For good or otherwise." This time, I didn't care whether it was wrong to interject or not.

"So why the hell do I have it?!" I demanded, and my wings grew and smashed into the lamps on either side of my bed. I glared, but said nothing more, afraid of what new weird thing I would sprout next.

"You are the guardian of the Stone of Power. It chooses one of the privileged family--that's us, dear--and makes them human so that they are able to wield the power of the Stone, and therefore able to protect it accordingly."

"But I don't wanna protect it!" I whined wholeheartedly. "I'm gonna be going off to college in a few months and I want to actually appear normal!" My entire family blinked at me several times in unison.

"But you are, dear."

I screamed.