Andrew’s P.O.V

“That comes to twenty dollars.” The man behind the counter says in a gruff voice. He scans me over warily, before grabbing a carry bag. “You’re not gonna rob me, are ya, son?”

I bite my lip from within my exterior. “What?” I ask.

The man shrugs, handing me the bag and a receipt. “Just wondering.” He sighs. “Most people wearing hoodies and sunglasses do.”

Andrew Jr. opens his mouth to speak but I can’t muster the courage to speak. Hurriedly, I clamp it shut again and nod once, before making for the gift shop’s exit. Before I can swallow myself into the waiting crowd of bustling tourists though, a warm hand touches my exterior’s shoulder. With practiced movements, I swivel Andrew Jr. around to face the shopkeeper. He withdraws his hand immediately, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, it’s just that you forgot your bag, son.” He smiles, handing me my purchases. I slip them into my shoulder bag, which is draped across Andrew. Jr.’s broad shoulders.

“Thanks.” I say tightly, before slipping out onto the street.

The man was right- of course I look like a robber. After realising that I was now an apparent Mental Disorder, I decided to take precautions. And that meant going all out; gloves, hoodie, sunnies that shield my odd coloured eyes. It’s a temporary disguise, while I try and find the materials necessary to give good old Andrew Jr. a new look. I could dye his brunette hair blonde, make him fatter or thinner. Give him nerdy glasses, a different eye colour….

Or give it up. The voice from earlier says in its chilling voice. Pursing my lips, I focus on the world through the eyes of my exterior. It’s harder to see where I’m going, with thick frames of darkened plastic over his eyes. But I can easily make out the crowd accumulating around me. I’d never anticipated for Hobart, such a small city, to be so, well, busy. I brush past a few Asian tourists, making an effort to keep Andrew Jr.’s head low and his hands shoved inside his pockets. No one gives me a second glance.

Maybe it’s better to just cover up his face. I think to myself as I set my exterior on ‘walking mode’. As I make my way into the heart of the city, the crowd begins to wane and I sigh in relief. It’s much quieter here, away from the harbour and busy main streets. I program my exterior to turn into an alleyway and sit down on the cold, wet concrete, his back propped up against the brick wall of an abandoned building. The only sounds come from a busted air-conditioning system, which drips puddles of water into a waiting bucket.

This is what I love about the city. Complete and utter silence, with the faint sounds of traffic in the distance. I guess it soothes me, having grown up in an apartment block in Brisbane with my parents. Most times though, being surrounded by next to nothing with only me for company is nice. It gives me a chance to think. About my future as a Nazaree.

After a minute or so to collect my thoughts, I program Andrew Jr. to fish my purchase from his satchel. I raise the item to his eye level. It’s a midnight blue dream catcher, woven with miniscule strips of yellow thread. On any other day the gift shop wouldn’t have been captured my attention but seeing the dream catcher in the window…

It was one of those moments where you see an object and know it belongs to someone.

I just wish Emily would understand how grateful I am to her.

Tucking the dream catcher back into my exterior’s satchel, I let out a sigh and lean back into the cold, metal controller’s seat, struggling to find comfort. It’s lonely, cooped up in here all day, every day. And after speaking openly to a human like Emily without Andrew Jr., it made me realise how much I’ve missed over the past four years. I’ve missed the feeling of weightlessness, not having to worry about synching my voice with a robot’s I’ve missed the clean air that fills my lungs as I pause to take a breath between sentences.

I’ve missed normality. The ability to just… be in one place without hiding behind something else.

I’ve missed being human; feeling rich, human blood in my veins and seeing my naturally blue eyes in the mirror.

Basically, living the Nazaree way sucks.

I just wish I could have known that before I decided to rob a witch.

“What are you thinking about, sugar?” A voice coos suddenly. I snap out of my daze, leaning forward and squinting so I can see through the eyes of Andrew Jr. Standing calmly before me is a woman, or more accurately, a girl. She wears a scruffy looking black hoodie and shorts, which show off reed thin, ghostly white legs. Her feet are covered by dark, leather boots which are laced tightly to her knees. Sunglasses similar to my own frame her eyes. Instantly, I rise from my seat, Andrew Jr. easily mimicking me.

“Pardon?” I ask, the words projected through my exterior. Andrew Jr. shoots her his best confused expression.

The woman’s form is blurred by the double layers of glass and plastic I stare through, but from what I gather, she’s not all there. Her body is almost shuddering, the muscles in her arms, legs and neck tensed. Who is she?

“No need to stand, human.” She hisses, a low growl erupting from the back of her throat. Her thin fingers curl into fists. “It’ll be over very soon.”

And before I know what’s happening, she’s lunged at Andrew Jr., slamming him into the far wall of the alleyway with inhuman strength…