Your Star

            'INFANT FOUND ON THE SIDE OF A ROAD A MILE 

        outside of Salem, Mas. The infant was found with scapes    

        and abrasions, in addition to minnor cold by a traveling    

         couple but otherwise is reported to be okay. The child    

        was discovered tucked away in a woven picnic basket    

        wrapped in wool blanket about a mile outside of the    

        popular site for tourists. Though we thoroughly    

        questioned both residents and authorites, no one can     

        seem to identify the infant or its' parents, nor has any    

        one given birth in the past several months. Cherif    

        Augustine O'reiley did quote 'We are thorughly    

        investigating this situation but we do believe that the     

        infant was more than likely abandoned by tourists.'    

        Until the authorities can identify the child's parents,    

        however, it will be temporarily placed in Amsterdain    

         Orphage with the hopes of the child's birth parents    

          soon returning. - Charlotte Valene'

           The newspaper clipping is still crisp after sixteen years of sitting in the weathered card board box where I keep my 'special things' beneath my bed, though the edges are laced with yellow. What the paper failed to mention is the fact that I had glowing ultraviolet eyes and a pentagram burned into my tiny little wrist. It is these two unique features that sent hundreds of curious couples who had read the article fleeing in terror. These unique qaulities are what have earned me the labels 'Devil's Spawn' or 'She-Devil.' These qaulities are what have gotten me shunned from society; banned from churches, an outcast at school, and the town freak show. Literally. I can not tell you how many lunatics waltz into the orphanage just to get a glimspe of me on a daily basis (although most are pyscopathic Pagans who believe I am their prophet.) Once, some jerk even tried to convert the orphanage to a house of horrors by setting up a shack outside the entance with a gigantic sign that read 'COME ONE, COME ALL! COME SEE THE DEVIL GIRL FOR $3 PER PERSON!'

            Back then Sister Jude was in charge, and she was certainly not pleased. She marched right outside with one her infamous canes in hand, ripped down the sign, snatched up the poor man's profits, and scolded him until his face turned white with fear. When she came back inside, she was as cool and calm as she'd ever been even though all the children were staring at her in awe. She didn't do it to defend me, of course, because she personally thought I was possessed and therefore despised my very existence. But instead she did it to defend the name of her precious orphanage. That was the only reason why Sister Jude did just about anything for me, I believe. It was why she called in so many priests to perform multiple excorsisms on me. It was why she always made sure that I was shunned from the harsh rumors and seen faithfully attending church services like a normal Christian little girl. It was never because she truly cared for me, it was because this orphanage was everything to her. This orphage had been in her family for almost ten generations and she couldn't afford to let anything tarnish its glorified name. She couldn't have anyone thinking her precious orphanage was harboring a demon child nor could she turn me away because that wouldn't be the Christian thing to do. Her soulution? Relentlessly perform excorisms until I was ridden of the so called 'demons' that lived, well live inside of me. To my relief, Sister Jude died when I was eight from a sudden illness that no one could identify. Immediately after her funeral, her daughter and apprentice, Sister Blair took over. Fortunately for me, she happened to like me a lot more than her mother had. Thanks to Sister Blair, the last eight years of my stay at Amsterdain has been a bit less unbearable.