I was 12 when it happened……. When I became…It.

I had become an anthro lion, like 5% of the worlds
population.

This. Is my story.

   April 20, 2051

I was destined to become one. Around 50 years ago, something
spread across the world and turned a small percentage, around 5 percent, of
every human being into a furry, an anthro. Now they had tests you take when
your 16 because at the age of 18, you became one.

I always knew I was different. Around 30 years have passed
before someone told the world they had a message from the otherworldly: One
day, there shall come a time when a boy will become it. The two that are one,
and the one that is all.

I was that boy. I became an anthro
lion on my 12^th birthday, and no-one knew it would happen. Most of
the people who became…different made their own communities. Since that year a
small amount of people turned into anthros every year. There was a test
available, one that checked both genetic and mental traits, if the numbers
turned out right you only had until your eighteenth birthday to enjoy being
human, after that time you changed. My own mother hated me for what I became,
and she immediately signed a waiver too send me off to a furry community.

That was the last of her I saw.

April 21, 2051

I was in a jeep, driving with a man
who I had no idea was. He had tried too talk too me, but I sullenly stayed
silent. After a long while possibly around 5 hours, the jeep stopped.  I looked around. The community was a small
village of huts and soon a single man-animal thing walked out. He looked like a
fox, but I can’t be sure. His eyes widened when he saw me. I tried getting
lower into my seat, but I couldn’t.

The driver asked the…thing, “Your
Cainan?” and the fox-guy answered “Yes.” The drivewr pulled out a PDA and asked
the fox too sign, which he did. “He’s all yours.” And then got me out of the
jeep. He drove off a bit faster than he did coming here.

The fox, Cainan, looked at me and
said, “John?”

I stayed silent, but gave a small
nod. “come on. We should go back too the village.” And we walked towards the
huts.

Farther from my mother.

Closer too new life.

____

One of the most recent (which is still a few months old)

                “Mommy,
what was that?” My child cries softly as she and we huddle with a flashlight in
my room. She was terrified of thunder, like many other children her age.

                “I’m sure we’ll find out
tomorrow, sweetie. Try and get some sleep,” I murmur, stroking her hair with a
gentle touch. Eventually she does go into the hands of night, as all do. I
stare out of the window, past the pale yellow curtains, past the panes of glass
and into the dark, forbidding rain smashing on the window as if it were trying
to break into the house and flood my home.

                Crack.

                The lightning was so
close to the house! I could see the flash of electricity next to us for just an
instant. Then the deafening crash
came, and I knew what had happened. But it was no use going to look out at our
beloved oak now. The rain was too thick, and the darkness was impenetrable. I
would simply sit here, laying under the covers of my bed with my child,
silently crying for the loss of our tree.

It gets better, I promise.