As i sit back down at my table my head begings to throb in pain. i groan and grip the table to keep my balance. my vision goes blurry and all i hear is a lod ringing. Out the corner of my eye i see a fast moving shadow. i look around, trying to chase it with my eyes, but to no avail it keeps running away. i am snapped out of my trance when i smacked in the side of the head with a book. "Time to come inside, Freak." i quickly look around, collecting my surroundings. After a moment i remember that im still at school and i collect my things and head inside.
Now was time for the boys and girls to separate. boys go outside to chop wood and tend to animals. while us girls stay inside to learn how to be proper women. "todays lesson will be, Posture. grab a book and place it on your head. keep the book balanced and you shall pass. for every time you brop the book you will be lashed to the hand by my ruler. Understood?" the whole class responds with "Yes Mrs.Merton." we stood at our desks with our books on our heads. I try my hardest to keep the book steady, when my foot is kicked out from under me. i fall to the grownd and drop my book. the class begins to giggle. "Well Miss.Hayes. seems you couldnt keep the book up. stand up now, and receive your lashings." the room goes quiet "Yes Mrs.Merton but-" "AND you talk back to me? such a rude young lady. thats 3 lashings" "but Mrs.Merton-" "ENOUGH! stand up now!" i scurry to my feet and put my left hand out. "Thats 5 lashings now." she slaps my hand with her ruler 5 times. each hit being harder than the last. my hand would surely bruise. I try not to cry or even make a face as i put the book back on my head. My hand begins to sting worse thatputting lemonade on an open wound. Lucinda, the girl next to me whispers "Such a failure." and snickers. I bite my lip in anger and clench my fists.
Everyone but myself passed. the school day was now at its end. We pack our things up, but as i go to put on my coat i am shoved into the rack. laughter can be heard from all around. "what a cluts." "you should watch were youre going" "ew she cant even stand up right she's such a freak." and other mean comments were made. I was far too busy to listen to there words and more focused on cleaning my now bloody nose. once i have my things together i wait outside for Mary. Whomst i see walk passed me with a group of other girls moments later.
Father says we can stay in the village till sundown, but must be home before dark. Since Mary has not joined me today i headed to our spot in the woods, alone. I stand next to a stump and look at my surroundings. nothing but trees and fallen leaves can be seen from every angle. Once i find a large puddle and stare myself up and down in it. My silhouette is tall and stinny. my image looks so proper and polite. I am one petite 14 year old girl. i have long thick black hair that is tucked into my bonnet most of the time. My eyes are the most prominent feature of mine. As blue as the clearest ocean. So bright and a shiny like diamond. No one had ever seen such bright eyes before. Surely im not the only person in the world like this. That would be impossible. My type just seems to be rare.
I head back over to the stump i was at before and sit down, getting out my journal. I close my eyes and take a long deep breath. "you cant hurt me." i whisper to myself. i feel a cold breeze hit me. fast moving feet can be heard in the near distance. "you cant hurt me." i whisper again. the foot steps get closer. "i dont know what you are." the wind blows even harder. "Or who you are." i hold a pencle and my journal in my hand. feeling the grownd rumble under my feet. As if the creature has begun wakling heavily. "but whatever you are." i take one more deep breath. "please tell me something." the foot steps get heavier then come to a stop, with that stop everything else stopped and the woods went quiet. the only breeze i feel is directly in my face. "Anything." my breath is shaky. i can feel its presence, but i know if i open my eyes to look at it, it will vanish. I feel the pencil move across the page. i cant see what its writing or drawing, but i wait till the pencil stops moving and i no longer feel its presence so close to me.
My eyes open, and on the page is....a flower? ive seen this flower before, but its been so long. The petals are flurry, like feathers. It even looks soft to the touch. The base, right up by the petals almost looks like corn and the leaves are quite small. I stare the image up and down. trying my best to remember what type of flower it was. I dont dare ask my mother, she would question why i drew a flower that cant be seen. Let alone the fact that i didnt even know what flower it was. i close my journal and put it back in my back and begin heading home. it was not yet late enough to be sundown, so I would have chores to do when I got home. The entire way back i felt like someone was watching me. Yet the feeling wasnt as earie as it normally was. The eyes didnt feel as though i was in danger, more like i was being observed.
Once i arrived home, my mother stopped me at the door. "You have chores. Make your bed, do your laundry, and clean your room. after dinner you must shower. Once your shower is done i want you in your room for the rest of the night." I nod my head, as not to disrespect her. "yes Mother. I shall get to it right away." I put my coat and bag up and head up to my room. My room was the smallest. But theres enough room for me to take 3 big steps from my bed to my closet, and 5 steps from my desk to my window. I also had the dustiest room, seems to be no matter how hard we try the dust just wont go away. Thankfully mother doesnt expect me to get rid of all the dust since we've all gotten used to it by now. In my room you will find a bed just big enough to fit 2 skinny people on the right side. On the left side of the room is my closet, Father built one into the wall for me so I would still have room to move. My bed faces the door, so its the first thing you seem when you look in. if you look to the left of the door there is my desk, with a stool that's always pushed out. On the desk is 5 cluttered books, 3 full journals, an old mug full of pencils, a small oil lantern, and a mirror is hung just above it. I use my desk for writing, which is something I do quite often. In the back of the room there is a window, and coming off the window is a plant holder facing into the room.
