In Our Image – Volume 1 Chapter 2

Author’s Note: Short chapter today, but I hope you enjoy!

Volume 1 – Chapter 2


Her voice travelled through the air, bouncing off of the clouds, clanging from the sidewalk, and shattering through the window until it reached my ears with a screech. I opened my eyes.


Surely it was the voice of an angel, sent from the high heavens to pull me from my slumber, get me ready for the day ahead. A heavenly herald of my very own.


Her yells continued to crash through my room, disrupting the ordered peace I had worked so hard to attain. Luckily, years of practice had left me with the outstanding ability to tune her out, no matter her volume or proximity, and that’s exactly what I did.

Pushing myself out of bed, I sighed as that golden voice slid past my closed-off ears before walking the two feet to my window. With great effort, I opened it. Sweet autumn air reached my face, but the voice came up stronger than ever.

It was getting hard to ignore.

My eyes moved to the ground in front of my house, and though they were groggy and full of sleep, they easily caught sight of Cat, standing there with her arms waving around. I stared, enraptured, at the divine figure who had instigated my awakening, and between her words, I sent down some of my own.

“Hey, Cat. Shut up.”


Her response came immediately, and was, of course, also shouted, but accompanied with a thumbs up. I guess, to her, that made the volume more acceptable.

I turned and walked back into my room.

You may be wondering why I was so harsh on her, but that’s only because you don’t know Cat. But don’t worry, I’d be happy to fix that.

Honestly, you can get anything and everything you need to know about Cat just from her appearance, which is a feat in and of herself–I’d even go so far as to say it’s a trait unique to her. That being the case, I guess I should fill you in on her looks. Trust me, everything else will fall into place from there.

First thing to mention: her hair, which is completely, undeniably weird. The best way that I can think of to describe it is as the color of a cherry dipped in a molten fire engine, swooping almost to her shoulders with two small pieces poking out over her ears.

Second thing to mention: everything else. Compared to her hair, everything else about Cat is pretty average, I guess–wild brown eyes that never seem to stop moving, lips always parted to reveal a sharp-toothed smile, pale skin, open hands, and a solar-powered voice box that never stops running.

And with that you basically know everything there is to know about Cat, plain and simple. I know it sounds odd, but it’s true, and you should see what I mean soon.

Well, now that that’s out of the way, back to me.

After I walked away from the window, everything went surprisingly quiet for a few minutes, giving me just enough time to get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, and read the paper before cutting through the small hall that lead outside and exiting my house.


Cat called to me the moment my door began swinging on its hinges, and was standing directly in front of me by the time it had opened, blocking my view of the world outside. She leaned forward, sending the bag in her hand shaking and rattling.

“You ready?”

“No, he’s not–that’s why he’s wearing his uniform and carrying his bag.”

Miller appeared out of nowhere, stepping into my yard from the sidewalk and shaking his head. Although I knew my friend had planned to meet us in the morning to walk to school, as usual, I hadn’t noticed his arrival. While Cat stands out, from her hair to her personality, Miller fades into the background seamlessly–his short stature, average light brown hair and disinterested eyes combining to make him almost completely unnoticeable.

But Cat noticed him and, stepping back, threw her arm forward, pointing her finger in his face. Miller didn’t flinch.

“I don’t need your sarcasm, Miller. Now get off of my lawn!”

“We’re on Asher’s lawn.”

“Well, get off of Asher’s lawn, then!” she retorted quickly, her face displaying an insane amount of emotion for someone getting upset at a guy standing on a specific patch of grass. Miller’s expression didn’t change.

Their standoff seemed like it was going to last a while, but I began to contemplate walking away relatively quickly–there was no way I was letting myself be late just to watch them have a staring contest–but, as I should have expected, it ended as quickly as it started.

Cat’s gaze, so intensely focused on Miller only a moment ago, shot in a different direction like lightning. I followed her gaze, curious to see what had so enamored her, but there didn’t seem to be anything of interest. I glanced back at Cat.

“What are you looking at?”


“Cat, did you hear m–”

“Shh! There’s a frog there!”

Quieting me by shouting herself, huh? Typical.

Miller tried next. “Okay. What’s so great about a frog?”

“I wouldn’t expect ignorant brutes like you two to understand. Now, be quiet. I’m going to try to catch it.”

She bounded away towards a small green frog sitting on the sidewalk, but as soon as she did so, the animal turned and caught sight of its pursuer. Its eyes filled with fear, it jumped straight into traffic.

Needless to say, Cat followed without hesitation.

The screeching of cars melded with her shouts of glee. Mouths open, Miller and I watched as Cat flew through traffic, launching off of car roofs, flipping around in the air, and landing in a perfect roll on the other side before pushing herself up and continuing to give chase.

And what had spurred her into action? What had caused her to engage in an acrobatic feat so outstanding that, had the right person been there, would have landed her a free ticket to the Olympics?

A frog.

It’s been six years, and I still have no idea how that girl works, or how it got to the point that, when our friend had just jumped over traffic and into the wet forest to chase a frog in a manner that couldn’t have been anywhere near humanly possible, Miller and I simply turned and walked to school.


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