𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 - 𝐩𝐣𝐨

𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝 - 𝟏

From the moment Jordyn could remember, people were afraid of her.

They would shiver when they locked eyes with her from across the road. Parents would hug their children closer to her in the mall. Babies would cry if she so much as breathed in their direction. At first, Jordyn couldn't understand why this was so. She didn't hurt anyone after all and it hurt to see people so terrified because of her. Whenever she asked her mother, her usual fierce stare softened and she said the same thing every single time.

"You're a very, very special girl, Jordyn."

Then she would kiss her head and continue on with her day. Jordyn didn't like the answer at all. Why did she have to be special? Why couldn't she be like everyone else? What does being special have to do with scaring people away?

Did her being special have anything to do with the strange people she saw?

Her unhappiness only grew when she had to start school. She learned very quickly that she didn't enjoy the place at all, the other kids were loud and rowdy and it made her head hurt. The saturated, bright colours and light that streamed in through the windows felt like colouring pencils being driven into her eye sockets. Obviously Jordyn didn't find this pleasant at all.

After hiding from students and teachers alike in the darkest parts of the school she could find, Jordyn was finally expelled after she blew out the classroom lights and laughed at a fellow six year old that tripped into the glass shards.

That was the first of many expulsions.

The second time the next year, seven year old Jordyn locked herself in a classroom, closed the blinds, turned off the lights and proceeded to take a two hour nap. When she woke up, her livid teacher had already carried her halfway to the principals office.

More honourable mentions in her opinion include when she brought a random owl to her class when she was eight and when she managed to blow up a bus with a civil war cannon so her mother could pick her up early when she was nine.

In fact, wherever she went, chaos and guaranteed punishments seemed to follow her. And the people. The people followed her too.

While other (normal) people would quicken their pace when she walked past, there were some that would watch her as she went by, which she found very interesting.

But these people weren't normal at all. By all logic, they should be very very dead. One time she came across a woman with a knife sticking out of her back browsing books in the library like it was a minor inconvenience.

Another time she saw an impossibly old looking man hobbling toward a liquor store and a middle aged woman following a man in a suit speed walking down the pavement. The woman had a small hole in the middle of her forehead and faint streaks of mascara dribbling down her cheeks.

But as she grew older, she simply chalked them up to daydreams. After all, those people should've been—by all circumstances—extremely dead. It didn't matter that she had never seen a single dead person, or even a movie featuring murder in her entire life, she just had a very vivid imagination.

But now she was eleven and determined to stay in this new school. It was called Yancy Academy and it screamed last resort.

On top of her lengthy history with a plethora of schools, she was also diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia, which means she can't read well at all and can't sit still and has the attention span of a goldfish.

Yancy was perfect for people like her: screw ups with absolutely nowhere else to go. It wasn't a pretty reality, but she always imagined how it could be worse.