Never Give Up

• Tahlia Allen, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2018

Lysandra was just 7 years old when her town of Ocala went poor. The job managers were keeping the money for themselves, so more and more people were losing their jobs everyday. Lysandra was a shape-shifter, and could take any human, animal or mythical being she wanted, but that was the problem.
'Shape-shifters can’t be trusted' the people had said. Lysandra wasn't allowed to change into different forms. Her mother wouldn't allow it, but people were being executed if the castle guards ever suspected that you held any type of magic (but most of the time there was about 2 a day. One at sunrise and one at sunset. Only because the guards wanted some fun).
One fatal morning, Lysandra's mother was fired from her job and could no longer afford to pay for food for herself and Lysandra.
"Mother, I'm hungry" and all her mother's response was, "There is not enough food in the house for both of us" and she tossed Lysandra's clothes out the door. "Fetch, you wretched child." Lysandra ran outside, and by the time she had picked up her clothes, and turned to go back into the house, the door was shut. She tried turning the handle. Locked.
She looked around her. She couldn't just walk around in her human form, as the guards would think of her as street meat. She sat outside on the porch, and knocked many times. Around dinner, she could smell it cooking on the stove. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK
"Hi mum, can I have some dinner now?" asked Lysandra. But her mother didn't look forgiving.
"Sure, honey," she started letting Lysandra in, only to Lysandra's surprise, her mum slammed the door so violently in her face, that it broke her nose. Her mother was laughing.
"Now that you have learnt your lesson, how about getting lost before I call the guards?" said her mother with a wicked tone.
She realised there is no point in running. She looked toward the guards, shifted into a ghost leopard and smiled a wild tiger grin.