Deformed (Not finishing)

Deformed

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 Prologue.

December 27 2005.

 After my mother had me, her first and only daughter, she found out that she could no longer have children.

My mother alway's wanted a big family, but now she couldn't have that,

well that's what she thought until my father suggested adoption,

So that lead's to where we are now, the Orphanage, two town's away from our home town.

 My name is Luke Venomania, i'm currently ten year's old, and clinging to my mother's side,

as we walked down the hallway's of the old orphanage, where you could

here cries of children who want their mommy or daddy, but the thing is they have no one anymore.

 "I must say your daughter is very beautiful, is her hair natural?" Mrs. jasonex said, questioning my mother.

My hair is a very light baby pink, my parent's think it's cause of their hair color's,

My father has blonde hair, and My mother has red hair.

"Yes it is" My mother replied politely.

"What about those eye's they cant possibly be real?" Mrs. jasonex said.

My eye's were a dark pink, and had a broken glass look, not just plain flat look.

"They are" My father replied.

"What a strange child" Mrs. jasonex muttered low enough to where my parent's couldn't

hear but i could.

"Dan look at this child she's so cute!" My mother screeched looking into a window, that had ton's of

babies in it,

But i wasn't looking at that,

I was looking at the end of the hall, where there was a room with no door,

instead a big glass panel was there, making it impossible to escape.

I walked closer to the glass door, and once i got closer,

i saw a older boy, with long purple hair that went down to his waist,

skinny frame,

pale as the dead,

Wearing a white mask, with thick gold swirl's and curl's,

you could just barely see his, pure white eye's,

they weren't the dead looking white eye's,

but they were ghostly,

almost glowing,

glowing with sadness, fright, regret, and small hope.

 I got as close as i could to the glass door, and his head snapped up, when i put my hand

on it.

He got up and walked slowly over to me, and put his hand on his the glass,

where my hand also lay.

I could feel the coldness coming from his hand's,

I could feel the sadness pouring from his eye's,