Chapter One.

We are sometimes referred to as chameleons. My type. The collective “They” are a government agency, or maybe several government agencies. They are charged with the task of “collecting” us. That is why I must stay under the radar. Not even my family can know, I would not wish to ever put them in danger. “They” seek us out, to do a number of jobs. We are imprisoned by our own country. Therefore, I hide.

I have yet to be noticed, and remaining that way is a job no one may notice I am doing.

All my life, I have always thought that I was myself. I suppose, this is something everyone feels, until something happens to change one’s perception. “To thine own self be true.” Not sure who actually coined that phrase, but the message it sends once made sense to me. I’ve found that one’s “own self” is not always “thine self.” “Thine self” can be drastically different when reverting to one’s true nature.

The first time it happened, it happened in the moment, in the second, right before an orgasm. It all happened so quickly, or so it seemed, that I was almost sure I hallucinated the whole thing in the heat of the moment. I was on top of him, rolling my hips faster, feeling that sweet familiar build up, when it happened. My hands were on my chest when I saw them disappear. Not into him, but just vanish. I suddenly seemed to fall outside of myself, seeing my body from his view point. Almost at the same time, I felt myself shift back, my body shuddering, as I came harder than I have ever before in my life. He came next flipping positions so his body stiffened on top of my still quaking body, both of us out of breath and clutching one another.

I had heard about them. Being captured, or "removed," and they have all supposedly being altruistic enough to dedicate their lives to serving the government.

These people had similarities. Above average intelligence, yet not people who were noticed or noted for any great contributions to the human race. They had either grown up in a rural area, or currently resided in a rural area. Not necessarily religious people, yet not scientific, generally of the spiritual variety.

One lady was noticed as she was attending a yoga class. The other participants in the class claimed she just simply vanished while in the downward dog pose, and the lady behind her had a heart attack. As soon as this was reported in the small-town newspaper, the authorities removed her from her job in a logistics company that was not named in the media.

Another woman was discovered, after a car accident in Iowa. She, herself, was not in the accident but pulled a small boy from the backseat of the car, from which his mother had been ejected. The car was starting to smoke heavily, and on instinct she acted. After she had pulled the boy from the vehicle, two bystanders ran towards them, and the little boy was suddenly floating in midair. He started to shriek, seeing the evergreens that should have been directly behind the woman. He claimed he could feel her arms around him, but to touch them was impossible, for even as he felt the press of them against his skin, he could not feel them in the air. Moments later she came back into view, and one of the onlookers promptly fainted. The woman calmly set the boy down, and walked to her car. She got in and drove off. One of the bystanders must have written down her license plate number, for an anonymous source reported to a local newspaper that she was “removed from her home by men driving government issued vehicles.”

It started happening to me at odd times, in odd situations. The first time, I was having coffee at my kitchen table and reading the newspaper. I was reading a very emotionally charged article about a child who had shaved his head to support his grandpa's battle with cancer. The kids at school had started bullying him, and he started having trouble in his classes. His principle called him into his office, and in support had the boy watch him shave his own head, in support as well. They held a school assembly and explained to the other kids why they had shaved their heads, and the grandpa was a special guest. 

As I was reading this story, my eyes welled with tears, and I dabbed at them with a tissue. When I looked back down at the newspaper, I could not see my body. The sensation was almost feeling like a wallflower. I was looking at the room, being present in the room, without actually being in it. I was one with the wall, one with the chair, one with the table. I was no longer me, I was apart of my surroundings. I could feel my heart start to race, but yet I felt no anxiety. I got up to walk around my dining room, and it was as if I was wearing the Cloak of Invisibility from Harry Potter. Except there was no magic, it was just me.

I was brought back to the present by my door opening, and my sister walked inside. I looked back down at myself, and noticed I was back, I was visible again. I must have had a stupid look on my face, as she asked me what I was doing, what my deal was.

"Uh... Nothing... I was just reading this really sad article, and lost myself I guess." It was the only way I could think to respond.

"Okay... Well you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I sort of feel like I've seen one... I need to sit down maybe. Coffee has gone straight to my brain."

She eyed my with suspicion, but went to the kettle to pour herself some hot water. I went to grab the Aeropress, to press her some fresh coffee. Afterwards, she grabbed the cup and joined me at the table. I showed her the article. She had never has been the one to feel the weight of the world, the pain of others. She read the article without skipping a beat, and looked up.

"Yeah, that's really sad. But it's happy too at least. No sad endings," she said.

And that was it. She was normal. No Invisibility Cloak. That's when I knew. 

I started researching Chameleons. I wanted to know more. That's when I read the articles of the woman saving the boy, the woman at yoga class. There is not a great deal of research on what makes a Chameleon a Chameleon. There is a lot of conspiracy theories. Blogs, web forums, those are plentiful on ideas. The closest I have come to actually finding the truth has been through a web forum. There is a man on there who identifies himself as Chameo360. He posts at random, though only on the Chameleon web forums. I've looked his username up, and that is all I could find. He claims to be a scientist, though he does not mention what agency he is, or has been affiliated with. He posts tidbits of information, not revealing too many details at one time.

I decided to reach out to this man. He responded swiftly. He asked what my interest was. I told him I needed to know more, I needed to understand. I told him it was vital. He asked if he could add me on Snapchat. As weird as it sounded to me, it made sense. He asked me to send him a video of my surroundings, a video of myself simply saying "Are you afraid of the big bad wolf" and nothing else. After I completed those two tasks, he did the same for me. 

As odd as it may sound, this all made sense to me. I am not a firm believer in Snapchat, but from what I understand, it's hard to fake a Snap. He was a younger man than I thought he would be. I would guess maybe six years older than myself, placing him at around thirty-one. This was only a guess, but I've always prided myself in being able to trust my instincts, as they've honestly never been wrong. That is another thing I've learned about Chameleons. 

He proceeded to send me information in pieces. I could save the screenshots, but he said he was putting faith in me to let these pieces of information fall into cyber waste. It is this information that has propelled me forward. I have dedicated myself to a mission, that I have not known, but known was meant for me my entire life.