Vixen The Problem

It’s not fair. Why do people keep treating me like this? It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to be born like this. And it’s not like I’m being a nuisance. I try to stay out of everyone’s way as much as I can. So why? Why does everyone feel the need to make fun of me? To laugh at me? To hurt me? Did I say something I shouldn’t have to someone really important? I didn’t mean to. This isn’t right.

“Ooo, what a fox,” I hear as I walk through the halls. I clench my bag.

“Hey, say something, foxy,” I hear someone else say. I walk faster.

“Shouldn’t pets be on a leash?” someone else adds on. My eyes start to water.

“Nevermind that, where’s her owner?” someone else chimes in. I run on the brink of tears, hearing nothing but the sounds of everyone’s amusement.

I make it to my safe space. It’s an empty hillside marked by a single oak tree. It’s pretty far from the school and very secluded from society. It’s the perfect place to go when I need to calm down. I place my bag down and curl up beside the tree, recalling the events of the day. They do nothing but push me. Pull my tail. Ask me what I say…Laugh at me. That’s the worst of it. They laugh at me. I hate it. I don’t know how much I can go through with this.

A few tears hit the ground. They’re doing this to me. I come to them in kindness and they do this. Maybe I should transfer again. There’s bound to be a place for me where I can be amongst humans without being jaded. There has to be. Right?

In the midst of my thoughts, I hear a noise. Footsteps? Uh oh. I thought no one knew about this place. That’s why I come here. I climb the tree, hiding in the leaves, waiting for the person to appear then leave.

The source of the footsteps appears and it’s…a boy? Oh no. The uniform. He’s from the school. Did he track me down? Why won’t they just leave me alone? Wait, what’s he doing? Why’s he kicking a rock? What did the rock do? Do these people have no bounds? Why must they pick on the defenseless? Wait, it doesn’t seem that he’s enjoying it. He seems…dour? Why? He gets closer, still kicking the poor rock. He eventually stops and stares at the horizon before sitting down and sighing.

“That poor girl,” he says, picking up the rock, “She gets chastised every day just for being different. Where is she? I swear I saw her go somewhere over here. Hm.”

What? He followed me? Why would he follow me? What could he possibly want? I cause nothing but trouble for anyone I come into contact with, so friendship’s out of the question. Did I drop anything out of my bag?…MY BAG!!! Pleasedon’tnoticepleasedon’tnoticepleasedon’tnoticepleasedon’tnotice! Ah! He’s noticing!

“Huh?” he says after noticing, “Is this her bag?” He stands and picks it up, scanning the area. He then looks up at the tree. Fuck! He takes a step towards it. Screw it. I dive out of the leaves, catching my bag in my mouth after scaring him. I then make a run for it on all fours just so he won’t keep up with me. I hear him calling after me as I run, but I don’t look ba-…Wait, how is it that it sounded close? I turn around to see that he’s nearly on my tail. Literally. Can humans really be this fast?!

“Hey!” he calls out, “Hang on a second! I just wanna talk to you!”

Liar. I can smell the stench of that lie from a lightyear away. I speed up to create some distance between us before casting a wall of blue fire with my tail. I stop in my tracks to make sure I didn’t hurt him. Doesn’t sound like it so that’s good. Looks like I’m in the clear. That is until I see him emerge from the flames. How tough is he?!

I try to start running again only for him to tackle me and lock me in place. I try breaking free, not wanting for him to do anything to me like…Petting me? What the hell? Is he really petting me? I start to calm down, both because he’s clearly not trying to hurt me and this actually feels…pretty…good.

“Shh,” he starts in a soothing tone, “I’m not gonna hurt you. You don’t need to be scared. I just wanna talk. That’s all. Calm down.”

I eventually comply, sensing no ill intent from him. He seems like a really strong human. I’m sure if he wanted to do anything by now, he would have.

“There we go,” he continues, “See? I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re safe.”

But can I trust him, though? Just because he hasn’t already, doesn’t mean he doesn’t plan to-ooooh yeah. Right there. Right behind the ear. There we go. Keep scratching. Yaaaaay. His scratching is making me melt. Fine. We can talk. Just don’t ever. Ever stop.

And of course he stops. Perfect. I look at him and he looks back at me. I give him a wanting stare and he gets the message. He continues with the ear scratches and once again, I’m in pure bliss. This is heaven. Keep it up. Please.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he says. I snap out of my daze before saying,

“Animal instincts. I am a fox.”

“Really? Couldn’t tell.”

“Cute.”

“Nope. Only one of us here holds that title.”

He pokes my nose and I blush. Is he serious? Does he actually find me cute?

“Tell you what,” he says, picking me up and walking, “How’s about we talk at my place? It’s starting to get chilly. I wouldn’t want you to freeze.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” I respond, “I wouldn’t wanna impose.”

“Nonsense. You’re more than welcome to convene at my humble abode.”

“Well, ok. Thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

He continues walking while carrying me. He’s so warm and comfy. It’s so nice. He feels like a mobile bed. I instinctively burrow into his chest. He just feels so good. Eventually, we get to his house and he steps inside. He places me on his couch and he sits in a nearby chair.

“So,” he starts, “Fox girl, huh? That’s gotta be something.”

“Nothing that exciting,” I respond, “One minute, I’m watching a movie, the next, I’m scratching a flea out of my tail. Pretty dull.”

“Well, you make it interesting. That fire trick is something else. How’d you do that?”

“I was born with it. Fire’s kinda like my heartbeat. Always got it and it’s always handy.”

“Now, when you say ‘born’, does that mean your parents are…”

“Ummm, well, that’s kind of a weird story. Please promise not to judge.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright, well, my father was a very adventurous man. He was a chemist who did studies on human and animal hybrids. One day, he befriended a fox, and here I am, a human girl with a bushy tail and some ears. I told you it’s a weird story.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s bad. Are they still in the picture? You’re saying ‘was’ a lot.”

I clench onto my skirt. This part is always the hardest to get through.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says after seeing my reaction, “If you can’t say, it’s fine.”

“No,” I respond, “It’s fine.”

I let out a sigh. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“I was seen as just an experiment to him. He’d study my every move, question me at every opportunity, buy me things just for the sole purpose of noting my reaction; of course it was fine at first because I was just a cub. I didn’t know any better. But he’d also focus on negative spectrums: responding coldly to some of my questions, shooing me when I wanted to play, ‘unintentionally’ pushing me, etc. But it wasn’t until I was fifteen when I started to piece together that he didn’t really want me. I confronted him about it, he denied, I pushed harder, he broke, we fought, he said some things, I said some things, and I thought that was the end of it.