Prologue: The beginning
I remember how it all started.
I was 5.
It was the first day of school.
Excited as only a 5 year old could be, I remember practically squealing with excitement. Wearing my freshly washed scarlett dress that was tinted with a pink hue, I smelt like the pure essence of vanilla and coconut. The scent danced around my loosely curled pigtails and I thought everything was perfect - my innocent mind couldn't think of anything going wrong.
How naive I was.
I was happy.
It was Morning Tea.
Eating my neatly cut sandwiches I was just enjoying the sunshine that splashed over my face, until my warmth was stolen away, replaced by a cold shadow instead. I remember thinking that he was very handsome - mischievous azure eyes that twinkled in the sunlight combined with spikes of gelled blonde hair. He was one of the 'troublemakers' that everyone seemed to respect, yet fear. Giving me a cheeky little smile, he hauled me to my feet where I was met with his warm embrace. His warm scent enveloped and bound me to him, almost like an invisible cage. A soft burn travels across my arm from where out skin meets. A slight tingle. Safe and comforted I didn't want to let go, but even so young I could tell something was incomplete.
He was 7.
It was flattering.
Until I gently loosened my embrace and tried to extract myself from his barrier - and nothing came out of it. A few more tugs hinting at him to let me go, I struggled to get out of his arms but they remained tight, almost seeming oblivious to my discomfort. He was a lot stronger than me, or so I thought. I glanced up at his face with a questioning look that conveyed for him to free me from his grasp. I remember him smiling and shaking his head a fraction. He smirked and leaned in, my puzzled expression bearing no impact on him at all. Then i felt his lips lightly brush against mine.
I was frozen.
It was as if time had stopped.
After the initial shock I was beyond angry - I was fuming. All I can remember thinking was that he just stole my first kiss. I had once caught my mommy and daddy kissing and at first I didn't get it. My mommy had told me that kissing was something you did with someone very special. He, was not special. Channeling all my strength, anger and disappointment, I placed my hands on the boy's chest. Then I pushed.
I was wide eyed.
It was fascinating.
Watching him fly and strike through the air, smashing against the classroom wall. Then seeing everyone simultaneously turn and stare at me as one. Even then, at that young an age, my instinct told me it wasn't quite right. I peered around innocently at everyone's faces, taking in everyone's shock. Then I just did what a normal 5 year old would have done - I began to cry.
I was 5.
It was the first day of school.
That was the day I knew I was different.
AN;; So, I've decided I want to try a story - a long term one. A novel. c:
The plot is still unclear but I have a ish idea of what I'm going to do.
Comment and Vote so I know what you think even if this prologue doesn't exactly give you much. Just a rough idea. :3
Thank you for Reading. :D
