AVAMany of my childhood memories were fading, yet one of the few that remained vivid was my first day in third grade. That day, we had a new student with jet-black, silky hair, whom, honestly, I had envied at first glance until her bag fell and she bent to pick it up. In the middle of the lovely dark strands stood a stark white patch, and as little children who'd never come across anything like that, the word 'freak' fell from our lips, followed by jokes about how odd it was. It took our homeroom teacher almost an hour to calm us down and explain how being different wasn't a bad thing.So when everyone in the pack labelled me the freak, I easily understood why, and accepted it.I just never thought I'd agree with them.Reopening my eyes, I didn't know the extent of what had happened until I shakily stood to my feet to see Astrid's form, lying a good distance away, with scraps of wood that were once our daggers all around her.I couldn't even pretend to be in shock. Not when a voice
Last Updated : 2025-06-24 Read more