The Beast Within (Book One of the Changes Series)

-Danielle's POV-

My life so far had been pretty ordinary. Some might even say boringly mundane. Yet, here I was, standing in the middle of a building with no recollection of how I got here.

I kept walking across the glossy linoleum as children roamed the halls and clustered in small groups. The playful squeals of chatter and laughter deepened my confusion. I peered down, finding my son’s hand in mine. As our eyes met, his mouth curled into one of his gappy smiles. It looked as if he had no idea that something was wrong.

What was I doing here? The last thing I remembered was being home, warming up the car. There had to be some way of explaining this.

It was taking every fiber of my being to hide the chaos in my head. I needed to figure out what happened, but first, I had to get Cameron to class.

My strides quickened. It barely registered that my son had to break into a light jog to keep up.

“Okay Cam, we’re off to Miss Feather’s class for a fantastic day, right?” I said more for me than him.

“Mommy, where are we going?” Cameron questioned.

I stopped, unsure of how to answer him.

“I’m walking you to class.”

The tremble in my voice had to be evident. My resolve was crumbling fast.

Cameron let go of my hand, wiping it down his cargo shorts.

He pointed behind him, “Mommy, you just passed my class.”

Seeing his classroom seemed to lessen my panic, but not by much. Wait.

“Where’s Lexi?” I alarmingly asked.

Cameron stared blankly at me.

I shook my head, “I meant to say, did Mommy give your sister her lunch money before she went to class?”

My son eyed me strangely before his expression changed to one of indifference.

“Yep, like you always do.”

I released the breath I was holding and wiped my sweaty palms down the legs of my scrubs before reclaiming his hand.

As we neared his classroom, Cameron lit up with anticipation.

“Mommy, do you see my picture of a rainbow with the bucket of gold?” he asked excitedly, pointing to his class’ monthly bulletin board.

I found it hard to concentrate on the sea of pinned construction paper. When my eyes finally spotted my son’s drawing, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I see it. It’s the picture of the glowing leprechaun guarding its gold. I love it.”

Cameron’s arms went firmly across his chest as his brown, almond-shaped eyes displayed his irritation.

“Mommy, I’m in first grade now. Leprechauns are little kids’ stuff. My gold is protected by a radioactive wolverine! See the big claws?”

For the first time today, I felt the urge to laugh.

I gazed down at him, thankful for the minor reprieve from my thoughts. Everyone believed my son looked like me, but I didn’t see it. The only feature we shared was the shape of our eyes. I got my hazel eyes from my late mother. At least, that was what I was told.

The bell started its shrill ring. The sound of giggling girls and the scuffing of chairs echoed off the walls.

“Okay sweetie, go sit down before you’re marked late. I’ll be back to pick you up after school.”

I gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and ushered him inside the busy classroom. I hoped I actually could make good on my last statement. If the day continued as it started, who knows where I would end up?

I turned to leave.

“Mrs. Smith?” Cameron’s teacher called to me from inside the class.

She was better known as the school’s busybody. Begrudgingly, I turned back to see her hurriedly closing the distance between us. The plastic smile plastered on her face irritated me further.

“Good morning Danielle. I have a few questions about your involvement in next week’s P.T.A. meeting.”

I didn’t have the headspace to explain why I let Dana bring the vegan muffins and water bottles instead of Carol. Who seriously gave a shit who got the damn muffins anyway?

“I’m running late for an appointment. I’ll call later,” I lied.

I mustered a smile. Her eyes fluttered as if she couldn’t compute what I had just said. I turned and left her to figure it out.

But I couldn’t leave just yet. I walked down the halls with renewed purpose. Reaching my destination, I looked in through the glass pane of my daughter’s classroom door.

There she was, seated at a desk, her honey-blonde hair flowing effortlessly down her back. Thank God.

Sated, I walked away from the door. That was all it took for my calm to be broken and my thoughts to sour once more.

Continuing towards the exit, I racked my brain, but it didn’t matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t remember.

A flustered grunt escaped my mouth as I stepped out of the school. Knots of tension formed within my stomach. This was insane.

“Just get in the car and go home,” I desperately whispered.

The realization that I had no idea where I parked struck hard. I felt myself seconds away from hysterics. I had to do something. What would Nathan do? Think, think, think, Danni, you can do this. What was I doing before? Okay, I came home after pulling a double shift. I made breakfast. I kissed my husband goodbye before he left for work. I was waiting for the kids in the Subaru…

I mentally begged, concentrated, and pleaded, but still nothing. The next memory was of holding Cameron’s hand.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated just on breathing. As soon as I felt capable, my hands started searching my scrub pockets, seeking out my keys. While I surveyed the entire parking lot, the trees caught my attention. Did I park by a tree?

I had no other choice but to work with what I had, which admittedly was a whole lot of nothing. Shakily, I started towards the line of trees. The cars that littered the parking lot during morning drop-off were gone. Apparently, so was my car. I kept to my plan, going down the road, close to tears.

The sight that unfolded in front of me made me pause. It was my car, sitting under an oak tree. I had to restrain myself from jumping for joy.

When I finally closed the gap between myself and the vehicle, I swiftly hit the alarm, opened the door, and took my rightful seat at the wheel. I inhaled sharply as the smell of leather invaded my nostrils. It was weird, but it felt as if it worked as a calming agent.

There had to be a logical explanation for all of this. I had been working way too many hours lately. It made sense that it would cause stress and fatigue that could leave me frazzled. There wasn’t any way I’d really lost any memory of what I did. I was just in need of a good night’s sleep.

That thought made me feel better and not crazy.

Satisfied with my self-diagnosis, I reached for my seat belt and ignored the “what if” that plagued me. Putting the key into the ignition, I started the car, ready to put the frantic morning behind me.