As the sound of energetic children rang throughout the playground, Pluto could only feel more isolated. Pluto's mother, Agatha Richards, was having a ball with her fellow middle- aged moms when she noticed her daughter playing by herself. She could see the disgust looks her friends were giving her child. Pluto was always odd, different, weird and all types of peculiar. She didn't mind. As a mother, Agatha had to be supportive no matter what. Even though raising Pluto was like speaking Greek, she knew that she needed her more than anything.
"Pluto, sweetheart," Agatha smiled. "Why aren't you playing with the other kids?"
There was a long pause. Pluto stood up from the sand pit she playing in and spoke, "Mommy, those kids are weird."
"Why do you say that, Pluto?"
"I want to go home!" Pluto yelled. "I don't like it here!"
Agatha was shocked at her sudden change of attitude, but complied. The two left and when they arrived back home, Pluto seemed to be fine. She was skipping around the house and smiling, pretending that she didn't cry to her mother less than twenty minutes ago.
This was strange, yet Agatha never questioned it. Her child was unusual. Not strange, but definetly unusual. She change moods faster than she changed clothes. Agatha could either punish Pluto for her personality or let her 'grow out of it'. And there was no way she was ever going to penalize her for something that was out of her control.
Dusk came and while Pluto was enjoying her seven-year-old self, Agatha was making dinner in the kitchen.
'Does Pluto maybe have some sort of disorder?' She thought to herself. 'Something is serious wrong about her. And what about susan? She thinks her children were God's gift to the world!'
All of her overthinking lead to her almost chopping of her finger.
"This child is so stressful," Agatha sighed. "But she needs me. I can tell that she's going to grow up to be someone special."
