Prologue

The office is small and uncomfortable. With only two chairs and a table between, I want nothing more than to go back home. The burgundy walls and the blue carpet were giving me old porno vibes. It just isn’t for me. This was definitely going to be my last visit. I should've never lashed out at my old school like I did. If I could take It back, I would.

I used to get bullied a lot. I was seen as the weird kid. One day when I was minding my own business by my locker; the most popular mean girl in school came up to me with her crew. They just started bashing me and pushing me around in a circle. There was only so much I could take.

I didn't even realize it happened until it was too late. I closed my eyes and imagined them getting away from me. When I opened my eyes, they we're all on the ground in agony begging for me to stop. I glared at them confused. When a teacher came up to me and put their hand on my shoulder, I snapped out of it. They immediately got up and ran away in fear. After that, we had to move towns and I started seeing a therapist. The first twenty sessions I didn't say a word. We just sat in silence for an hour and my therapist allowed it. For some reason this session made me want to open up. I was tired of wasting an hour a day for nothing.

"I had first found out I was different at the age of five. I ran faster than the other kids on the playground. I had this really bad temper. Whenever I would get angry my back would ache. It was like there was something inside of me destined to come out," I say to the therapist. Once a week I had to meet with her. My mother thinks I'm psychotic. Sometimes she looks at me with fear. She might just be scared she can't control me. Maybe she saw me as a freak like everyone else. I wish I could be the daughter she wants me to be. I want nothing more than to be normal. Nothing more to make her proud to be my mom.

"Okay. That's all for today," she says while showing me the door. I'm a little confused. The one time I actually talk she tells me to leave. This is why I don't open up to people. I was better off staying silent all those times.

Once I left, I headed home. It's just me and my mom. I've never known my dad or met him to my knowledge. He was nonexistent. Sometimes I wish I at least knew who he was. The last time I brought it up, my mom had a fit. She told me to never bring it again and that he was a deadbeat. I always wondered if he was the reason, I was the way I am. It's not normal and maybe he had the answers I was looking for. Maybe he could make me feel regular.

"Hello darling I see you've made it home early," she says while kissing my forehead. I smile weakly hoping she doesn't want to talk about it.

"Yeah, I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning," I say while I heading to my room. My room explains my personality perfectly. With my art covered on the walls and everything organized; it's my sanctuary. Drawing is the only thing that calms me. My favorite thing to draw are wings. All types and all colors. Bird wings, owl wings, hawk wings, Angel wings, any wings you can think of besides chicken. I don't draw food much. I pull out my sketch book and begin to draw silver Angel wings behind a girl that looks kind of like me. I make sure to detail every feather to make them look as real as possible. I like to think of this girl as my alter ego. She has so much confidence. Nothing can stop her because the world is at her feet. She is what I aspire to be.

I finish shading in the different color grays and put everything neatly back in its proper containers. I have acute Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm the most organized person I know, and it amazes me how nice I can make things look. Once I'm done putting everything away, I take out my pajamas so I can go to bed. After I take a shower in my personal bathroom, I go straight into a slumber.

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I wake up with a start. I always dread going to school because the kids are just so annoying. Luckily, it's my last year and college is becoming closer and closer. They say college is better than high school and I had no doubt about it. I decide to get up and head to my closet to find something to wear. No matter how cute or how ugly I looked, no one really pays attention to me. I tried wearing dresses, I tried wearing trendy clothes and I'm done with all that. Now its sweatpants and hoodies especially since the year is almost over.

I head into the kitchen to get some breakfast. The house was very silent. Not a sound. As I turn around there she was, my mother laying on the floor gagging. "Mother? Mom, are you all right?" I panic. As I sit over her trying to comfort her, she began to talk.

"You...will have...a wonderful life my darling. Don't be sad. There are better things to come. But I warn you, he will be after you," she struggles to say.

"Who? Who will be after me?" I ask wanting to know the answer. "Mother! Mother! Wake up mom please. I beg of you," I plead over what is now my mother's corpse. There was blood everywhere. It began to spill into the cracks of the tiles staining the floor. Her throat was slit. As she lay on the kitchen floor, I sob over her dead body.