Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town.
When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfou...
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"It's not my fault, I was born this way," I have to repeat that to myself over and over as I cry silently in the bathroom. I want to believe that I'm normal so bad. That's all I want to be. I didn't ask to be this way.
I don't like to be this way. I've stopped telling people because they'll look at you like you're some psycho and tell you that this isn't some fairytale. I'm not though, I promise.
I can't control it, I try not to use it, act like I'm normal but all I can think about is why? Why me and only me? I'm not some character from the fairytale that people tell me I'm in. No. I'm stuck in a world full of normal people.
And every day that's what I strive to be.
•••
When I wake up for the third time today, I'm most definitely sure it's from the sudden uncomfortable pain I'm in, and the hard floor I lay on doesn't help.
My head hurts the worst, I squeeze my eyes tighter than before trying to ignore the pain. Even breathing hurts, I have to take slow careful breaths to try to stop the burning feeling. I hear a faint voice whispering.
"She's dead!"
Another voice, sounding younger and more worried, chimes in. "She's dead!?"
"She's breathing, idiot," says a third voice, annoyed but friendly.
That's when I wake up fully, realizing what's happened and that I don't recognize any of the voices. I let out a scream, surprised, backing to the corner of the wall away from the strangers. "Where am I? What am I doing here-"
"Welcome to your new home Princess," the one on the left gestures his hand around the room we're in. I scowl at him as the word "princess" falls from his mouth.
"What do you mean 'my new home'? Who are you? Why am I here?" I ramble, coarse and angry.
"Guys back off," a sharp voice calls. A tall blond man walks into the room, hands behind his back. Looking from them to me with a welcoming smile, but it only makes my fear shoot up. "You're scaring the poor girl." He reaches out his hand to me, I reluctantly take it, and he pulls me up.
"My name is Cash," he says as he shakes my hand.
"Hi Princess, I'm Omar," the taller guy with thick brown hair winks at me. His eyes are the same shade as his hair, filled with cheeky delight. He also reaches out his hand, but I simply wave instead. When I wave, I notice there's a strange band strapped to my wrist, and the sight flooded me with panic, reminding me that I do not know these people or their intentions.
I shake my head, not sure why I was so comfortable with the new strangers. "No," I take a step away from them. "No, no, no. You can't force me down here and then be all friendly to me! I don't know who you guys think you are but you can't just lock me up down here!" I back up into the corner again as more of them crowd around me. Panic once again increases my pulse and clouds my mind. They all start to come closer, and I start to yell.
