Zara hissed at Emma's mother, her fur bristling with anger, as Emma, overwhelmed with emotion, covered her eyes and began to cry. The sound of muted sobs filled the room, and Zara glanced over, sensing her distress. With a flick of her tail, she padded over to Emma, rubbing against her side in a silent show of support. She meowed softly before trotting towards her empty food bowl, a subtle reminder of her needs. Emma, wiping her teary eyes, slowly got up and made her way to the cupboard. She opened the heavy door and pulled out a massive bag of cat food, its crinkling noise punctuating the tense atmosphere. As she poured the kibble into Zara's bowl, the sound of the crunching food was a stark contrast to the turmoil in her heart. “Mom! Why did you even do that?” Emma yelled, her voice echoing with frustration. Anger still simmered within her, fueled by her mother’s harsh reaction to her identity as a therian. *Maybe I should escape this place,* she thought, the idea blooming in her mind like a wildflower amidst the chaos. With a determined stride, Emma returned the empty bag to the cupboard, her resolve hardening. She rushed to her room, her heart pounding in her chest. She flung open her closet and pulled out her large, well-worn suitcase. Clothes tumbled into her arms as she hastily stuffed them inside, the familiar fabric comforting against her skin. She grabbed trinkets and mementos, avoiding her diary, the one thing she couldn’t bear to part with. Just as she heard the creak of the door, a chill ran down her spine. She quickly shoved the suitcase beneath her bed, her breath catching in her throat. “Why are you a therian?” her mother yelled from outside the room, her voice slicing through the tension like a knife. Emma bit her lip, holding back tears of frustration. “I can't help it!” she said, exasperation dripping from her words. “Oh, yes you can! So, why are you a therian?” her mother shot back, her tone challenging. Emma slapped her forehead in irritation, her patience wearing thin. “I told you! I can't help it!” Her mother rolled her eyes dismissively and flung the diary at Emma, who caught it mid-air, the familiar weight comforting yet heavy with memories. Watching her mother storm out of the room, despair washed over her. With renewed urgency, Emma pulled the suitcase back out from its hiding place. She gently placed her diary inside, zipping it up with trembling hands. “Ready!” she mumbled under her breath, a mix of excitement and fear coursing through her. That night, as darkness cloaked the house, her mother quietly entered the room and pressed a soft kiss to Emma's forehead. Emma kept her eyes squeezed shut, feigning sleep as she listened intently for the sounds of the house settling into silence. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she opened her eyes, captivated by the sight of her vibrant animal masks peeking out from the suitcase—symbols of her true self that she cherished deeply. With cautious movements, she lifted the suitcase and crept to the door, her heart racing with the thrill of the unknown. She gently opened it, making sure to close it quietly behind her. The cool night air met her as she tiptoed to Zara, who waited patiently nearby. Emma carefully scooped her up along with her food bowls and ziploc bags of cat food before grabbing provisions for herself. In a rush of adrenaline, she dashed out the front door and sprinted down the street. The woods awaited her, a dark and inviting sanctuary, and she couldn’t wait to dive into its embrace.
