Her eyes are liquid gold in the sunlight. She looks at me sideways, mouth open with excitement. Our shoulders touch. She leans closer, there is a laugh shimmering in her mind. Her smell is honey and moonlight and young moist leaves. I touch her face with my fingertips and the breath catches in my throat and there is a tightness in my chest, and her eyes widen and there is a different excitement in the air. We will be mates when we are older. We have always known this but now, at this moment, in the tightness in my chest and throat, I know what that means. She feels it…

I walked downstairs, feeling strung out and nauseous. I could hear Becky’s incessant chattering, the sound of dishes being put on the table in the kitchen downstairs, the soft burble of the radio, the deep rumble of Dad’s voice and Mom’s much lighter one. There was someone in the next door garden. A door slammed at the house next door. A toilet flushed at the house on the other side. I shook my head, closing my mind to it, and forced myself to keep moving. As I entered the kitchen, Mom looked up from her breakfast and frowned at me. “You’re a bit pale, Mike. Are you feeling all right?”…

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t understand the marks on the whiteboard. Couldn’t understand the sounds the teacher was making. And then I lost even that awareness. The strange black marks had no meaning for me. The one making those rhythmic sounds provoked only fear. I was in a strange place. And I was alone. I held silent, all movement stilled. The enemy was about me and I could see no place to run. I must be still. No sound, no movement. Until I had a chance to escape, or a reason to fight. One of the strangers came near, holding out a hand. I tensed, but though the creature was of…