The girl sat alone in the corner by the tree.
That was how it always had worked, she sat alone, the other kids played, and screamed, and shouted.
Maybe the girl liked isolation, a book seemed better company that the crazed children that frequented the other end of the playground.
From behind her long black hair she could see all goings on, but they could hardly see her, and she never had a part in what happened.
Even the teachers avoided this girl, if they even noticed her, they just assumed every day that the girl was there, though she never talked or made herself clear to the class.
The girl had long pitch black hair which covered most of her sharp features. Pale skin, almost white, peeked out through the sleeves of her dark clothes. No one had seen her eyes, as she walked with her head hung low and book clasped in arms.
This was why she went unnoticed when she disappeared one playtime.
The first time the old lady approached, she just sat a few shuffles back from the girl, watching, and waiting.
The next visit she made contact, sitting next to the quiet child. The woman was quite a bit smaller than the girl, yet she seemed to dominate the space with a terrible reign.
On the third day, the woman spoke, she had a gravelly, hoarse voice that seemed to either have come from little practice or from a larger mouth than that was hardly appropriate for such a petite woman.
"You are not like the others," she croaked. "You do not scream, or run, or do...that thing! Ah yes, playing. Those monstrosities that they perform whilst out on that stretch of stone-" here she was overcome with a fit of coughing, but, though the girl flinched at the spittle that was flying around the place, she still said nothing.
The wrinkled lady smiled, or tried to, for I don't think the woman had ever smiled before, it was more like a grimace or snarl than a sign of happiness.
"You can call me Grandma Catcher." She said. "What is your name?"
It took a while for the girl to speak, as if contemplating the thought of saying a word to a complete stranger.
She made what many would consider to be the wrong decision, but then again, no one had ever asked her name before.
"Torp Mandeville." she said.
