CHAPTER 2.1

THE NONSTOP rain seemed to sympathize with Cent’s mood as she watched the heavy rainfall from her room’s window. Ever since Madame Lira died, she knew deep in her heart that it was because of that incident during the class wherein she met the professor’s eyes with her lime green ones. Cent touched her bangs, obstructing her eyes from the people. She thought it was enough to avoid the same incident three years ago.

“MALEFICENT! Maleficent!” Only one person called her that. Steffan, the young volunteer, visited her foster home the other week. He took a liking to her ‘quirks’. He meant her eyes that always had dark circles as if she spent weeks without sleep, how pale her skin was even if she played under the sun, or how her eyes were so dark as some kind of bottomless pit. Steffan liked it.

Cent spun her feet away from the running sunshine. She was afraid she would get burned by his sunny attitude, no matter how crazy that may sound. “Hey.” He was still able to catch up to her.

“What do you want? Don’t you have school or something?” She clutched her sketchpad to her chest, which his cerulean eyes noticed.

The next thing Cent knew, her sketchpad was already in his hands. “Give me that!”

He must not see it. If he did, he would indeed run away from her and never look back. Even though he bothered her like no one else, it was hard to imagine him getting angry with her. It would genuinely break her heart because Steffan was her only friend, aside from the shadows.

Stretching her arms, Cent flailed to get back her sketchpad. But Steffan was too tall and strong for a skinny gothic girl like her. She was almost in tears when Steffan’s words froze her. “These are awesome! Did you draw these, Maleficent? Dude, this is so cool!”

What? Did you call horned beings with ugly faces cool? Cent asked Steffan in her mind. The last time some shelter children looked at her drawing, they ran away while crying. Hence, the words spread that she was a devil worshipper. It was not true though she had no religion.

Cent heard from the nuns in the shelter that every time she was about to be baptized, catastrophe would ensue, thus leading to the cancellation of her baptismal ceremony. Sister Tasha proceeded to just register her, but Cent saw how the baptismal registration papers burned to ashes. Though it was kept a secret by Sister Tasha’s order, some nuns and kids in the shelter called her a Satan’s spawn.

“You are not afraid?” Cent’s wary reaction earned her a pat on the head from Steffan.

“Silly girl. This is absolute talent, I tell you. By the way, what are these? I get that these horned ones are demons, but what are these small creatures?”

Cent was about to answer him that she did not know and only saw these creatures in her dreams, but she was stopped midway when the shadows hissed the names of the creatures. “Goblins,” said Cent.

Steffan whistled from her reply. “You got some awesome imagination, Maleficent. You keep on surprising me.” 

His smiling face was addicting that it also made Cent’s young heart smile. She lived under the shadows of doubt and fear because of her quirks. She struggled to convince herself that she belonged no matter how Sister Tasha kept reminding her that the shelter was her home. For the very first time, Cent learned the feeling of how to be accepted truly as a person and not because of filial piety. She felt happy for the first since she was born.

Steffan tilted her head as he guided her chin to meet his eyes. Her lifeless-looking face felt hot for the first time as she felt his minty breath against her lips. Staring at his attractive looks, Cent realized how different she was from him.

Her heartbeat quickened, her hands clenched, and her eyes widened as Cent waited for the magical moment.

Her fairytale turned into a nightmare in front of her. Black swirls of smoke from nowhere covered Steffan, grasping her shoulders rather painfully. Whizzing his breath, Steffan uttered his last words. “Y-You monster!” Cent rushed to him only to be pushed away by the shadows that were not hers. It was as if the shadows hated the idea of her touching Steffan.

Cent was about to rush again, only to be stopped by her reflection from the shelter’s windows. Her eyes were not cobalt-colored anymore. Instead, they were shining lime green.