Will I Always Be Weak?

Chapter 14. Tayla's Story

"Yawn." I lift my hands in a stretch.

My name is Tayla and I've always been alone. The first thing I remember was when I was five. I stayed with my grandparents; my grandma always told me that my parents were amazing people. Especially Dad; he was a great adventurer who was famed across the land. He was supposed to be a hero who protected the kingdom, but in the end, it was the kingdom that stabbed him in the back. Dad was on a mission to the elven grand forest. In the center of that forest, there is the tree of the world, or as storytellers call it.

"The World Tree."

My father's mission was to kill an Elven noble who had the influence and status to take the throne. If he succeeded, he would be given the princess's hand in marriage. During that mission, he found the person who he had to kill, my mother... She was a beautiful but still a fierce elf. She had the qualities of a true queen, and my father fell in love the instant he saw her. He betrayed the kingdom when he heard what she was fighting for and eventually became a trusted friend. They fought the kingdom for years, battling a never-ending war for the throne. Near the end, I was born and sent away to live with my father's parents in secret; only a select few knew I even existed. Soon after, my grandparents received a letter stating that both my father and the majority of my mother's house, including her, had been wiped out. They died before I even turned one.

"You freak!" The other children yelled while they pelted me with rocks.

I had just turned 5, and I didn't even know what my parents' faces looked like. I only knew what my grandma told me in stories. I was always an outsider in the small village I grew up in, due to me being a half-elf. My grandma said I was just special and that those children were just jealous but I could tell she was just trying to make me feel better. I never had any friends; the only one keeping me happy was my pet bird, Alfred. He was such an adorable bird, and I loved him. While I was playing with him in the town field, I was approached by my tormentors again. They laughed and insulted me; I was getting sick of this.

"Shut up!" I screamed at them; my heart was beating fast and my palms were sweaty. I was so angry.

"What did you say, freak?" The main boy's face looked like a tomato.

"I said shut up!" I said running at him.

I jumped on him, knocking him down; he tumbled like a baby, and I started hitting him in the face. I didn't stop and kept bashing his stupid, idiotic face. I screamed and punched until his face was covered in blood and bruises. His bully friends, when they came out of shock, ripped me off of him. They held me by my arms. I tried to escape, but I was too weak. The main boy stood up, wiping away the blood from his face; he looked like he was going to cry. I smirked and insulted him.

"What a baby," I said in a mocking voice.

Alfred was flying above, chirping like crazy. The main boy was even more red after I called him a baby. While I was being held down, the boy punched me in the gut. I coughed and dropped to my knees; the boys began to kick me, and I curled into a ball. It hurt so much, my ribs were bruised, and my head was aching. I got hit over and over again; Alfred was starting to chirp louder and louder. He launched himself at one of the boys, cutting his cheek.

"Ahh!" one of the main boys goon screamed.

Alfred tried to protect me, but he was too small... He went for another attack and got swatted out of the air. The boys began to beat me again, and eventually, I started to cough out blood. I was pretty sure a few of my bones were broken and that I had a concussion. My beautiful ears were bleeding, and I was crying profusely. The main boy spat in my face and walked away, shouting more insults as he left. It hurt so much... I laid there in pain for at least an hour. I then started to drag myself towards my bird. He was lying a few feet away, by the tree where I first found him. I brought myself closer to Alfred and brought him to my chest. He wasn't breathing; he was dead. I cried and cried, lying in that field, that wretched field.