I DIDN'T EXPECT THIS FATE.....OR RATHER THE CURSE

From the moment of my birth, love enveloped me, not just from my parents but from the entire village. Three years into my parents' marriage, and with my mother crowned as queen, I came into this world. My appearance, inheriting my mother's genes, showcased white hair, fair skin, and distinctive eyes—a blue iris, a black eyeball, and a yin-yang-like pattern. The village adored me for these unique features.

Around the age of three, a sorcerer visited, unveiling a prophecy that I possessed the gift of foresight but could only meet my end through natural causes. Grappling with the weight of this revelation, I maintained a facade of ignorance. Despite this peculiar destiny, my childhood thrived on village friendships. My mother was revered as a goddess, and I offered help to those in need. While she emanated warmth, my father, the enigmatic king, remained devoted to his duties, projecting an intimidating aura. Despite my fear, my mother's unwavering love for him spoke volumes, reflecting a profound connection.

From age six, I chose an unconventional childhood, finding solace in libraries rather than joining peers in outdoor play. Unbeknownst to my parents, I immersed myself in books during these moments. One day, while engrossed in reading, I encountered Liam, a boy my age. Our friendship flourished through shared library outings. A pivotal moment occurred when my eyes turned red during a conversation with Liam, indicating distress at home.

Endowed with extraordinary abilities, I understood that every power carried a curse. My sixth sense was my power, and the reddening of my eyes represented the accompanying curse. Despite the challenges, Liam and I forged a strong friendship, his background remaining unknown.

When I informed Liam of my imminent return home, he earnestly pleaded for me to stay. My situation's complexity prevented a full explanation, leading to the creation of a simple code using the word "dear" for emergencies. Unaware of Liam's background, our friendship endured.

Returning home revealed my parents in a heated argument, shattering the image of their unwavering love. Eavesdropping, I could only make out impassioned shouts from my mother's room, my name piercing through the chaos. Anxiety gripped me, questioning if it resulted from neglecting studies or royal duties.

This distressing pattern continued until age ten when my mother abruptly ordered packing bags, signifying a departure from the castle. Pleading for one last meeting with Liam, she reluctantly agreed. En route to the library, thoughts swirled about the cause of my parents' faltering love. 

At the library entrance, I bid farewell to friends, unable to locate Liam. My eyes turned red again. This time, I waited for Liam, bidding him farewell as well. Approaching the castle gates, a heart-wrenching sight awaited—Bloodshed and my mother, lifeless.