Chapter 1

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   Laughter filled the air as a group of kids started running around, playing a game of who knows what. Giggles resonated throughout the meadow as boys started chasing girls across the lush, green grass. There was happiness, merriment, and glee.

    Valerie Hunt stood behind the trunk of an oak tree, listening in on the delight. She wanted to join in the fun but she knew that once she stepped out of her hiding place, the other children will shun her, ignore her, call her mean names, or even beat her until she was bruised and bleeding. It was ok just to listen to them, because at least this way she could imagine that she was part of the group.

    She could imagine that she was out there running around and laughing with the other kids. She could pretend that she wasn’t blind. That she wasn’t an abomination.

    Valerie sank down to ground, hugging her knees close to her chest. The tears were starting to flow again, streaming down her cheeks like twin rivers. Her mother tried to shield her from the gossip, the whispers, the pity, but Valerie still knew that she did not belong. The pack does not like any kind of flaw to tarnish their good name.

    She knew not to listen to the kids or even the adults, but it was so hard. Everything she wanted to do was outside her grasp. She could not play with the other children, she could not read nor write, she could not sit down and watch the sunset or sunrise. She would never be accepted into this world and she knew it.

    The soft chime of bells could be heard. A signal for the little ones to come home for supper.

    Valerie pushed herself off the ground and wiped away the tears with the hem of her shirt, then started down the path to her mother. Taking in the familiar scents and sounds to guide her. Her arms stretched out in front of her so that she could feel anything that would be an obstacle in her way. She felt the texture of bark, sturdy and rigid; of leaves, smooth and slender.

    “Valerie.”

    A small smile plastered onto the little girl’s face as she heard her mother’s voice. Soft and soothing.

    “Dear, come here so we can get you cleaned up for supper.”

    “Yes mama.” Reaching out, Valerie found the familiar, slender hand and inhale her mother’s scent. Lavender with a hint of hibiscus.

    Charlotte Hunt looked down at her daughter, taking in her small frame and wavy blonde hair. She slowed down her stride to match her daughter’s smaller steps. Smiling, she lead them down the street of Cairnwood, passed the other families. They walked pass a group of females, who looked at Valerie with discontent.

    “Look at that thing. So scrawny and ugly.” Whispered a woman with dark brown hair, her beady eyes following the pair.

    “Yeah, I don’t see why Gregory still allows it to live amongst us.” said another woman in the group.   

    “It’s a disgrace to us all, I’m so glad my Vanessa isn’t like that.”

    “Dear goddess, having that hair color and being blind? The fates must have had a laugh at that.”

    “What do you expect? I feel so sorry for Charlotte, taking care of that thing, its such a burden…no wonder why the father never acknowledge that abomination as his own…”

    Charlotte turned her head swiftly towards the group, stopping and growling a clear warning.

    “I suggest if you desire to gossip, do so quietly, you are starting to resemble old hags. Do you not have something better to do? Stop chatting away like crones.” Charlotte glared at the group and started walking towards her cottage again, not caring about the females any longer.

    “Mama, I’m sorry.”

    Charlotte looked down at her 7 year old daughter and saw fresh new tears on her small face.

    “Oh baby, why are you sorry?” She bent down and started wiping away the tears.

    “Because…because of me you’re made fun of too. No one in the pack likes me…. and now they don’t like you…” Valerie choked out between sobs. She was shaking and couldn’t stop the tears.   

    Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, stroking her hair back as a form of comfort.

    “It is not your fault my child, it is never your fault. Do not listen to those old bats. You’re my daughter, no matter what they say. You are my daughter and I will always love you.” Charlotte whispered the last part, holding onto her daughter as if she was her life line.

    “I love you too Mama.” Valerie said.

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