Possessed

Possessed--Chapter 1

Third Person:

Belle sat in the back of her so called "parents'" car, trying to listen to her brand new "mom" go on, and on about how excited her kids were about getting a new sister, and how she really felt that I would have a FANTASTIC life living in her family, and how everything would be perfect and fun and that I'd LOVE it here. Her words. NOT mine. Now at the age of 16, Belle had lived with over 7 different foster families, she lived with each family for no more than a year. Then she'd be brought back to the orphanage, where all the girls would whisper about her, and give her funny looks when they thought that she wasn't looking. "Freak", "loser", "cursed", these were some of the things they would call her, and those were the nicer names that the girls at then orphanage had invented for her. Maybe it had something to do with how Belle looked. She was a pretty girl, beautiful even, but there was something about the way that Belle looked that just told people that she wasn't particularly normal. She had long, thick, straight, glossy black hair, pale skin, and seemed to be able to just appear out of nowhere, despite the fact that she towered over most girls her age. Yet it wasn't any of those traits that made her appear odd. It was her face. More specifically , her eyes. They shimmered whitish gray, and no matter what, it always felt like they were watching you. It always seemed as though that they followed you, it was uneasy feeling to know that Belle was looking at you, because her eyes seemed almost, dead. Like they were looking, but they weren't seeing, at least, not seeing what everyone else saw. Or maybe the girls made fun of her was because people chose to foster her, or adopt her, out of pity. She never had a real home. But the reason why no one managed to keep her, was shrouded in mystery, unknown to anyone who needn't know. And because no one had been able to care for her longer than about a year, there Belle was, sitting in the back of the Jones' minivan, listening to Marie Jones  incoherently squeal about how happy I would be, once I had settled in. Belle sighed and rested her head on the window of the car, 100% sure, that she was wrong. They always were.