Lucy's whole life has always been peaceful. She knew She was different. But everyone loved her for it. Sure She wasn't beautiful. But that's what everyone liked. Her skins always been a laughing matter. Why is it that weird pink color, they asked? It should be green like ours. But who cares? She's ours and we love her.
"Lucy, Academy!" Her lovely mother reminded her. She scampered out of her own beloved room, past crudely drawn pictures of all her brothers, downstairs to gobble breakfast and run to her school.
Mother craned her neck to glance at her. She was wearing a yellow flowing tunic and dark blue tights.
" Hair," Mother commanded with authority as she noticed Lucy's sloppy bun. She pulled it free and let Mother run her long slippery fingers through Lucy's dark chocolate colored hair. "I'm always puzzled by this mass on your head." She laughed. Turning Lucy around, she kissed her cheek.
She slapped her on the behind and screeched, "Go get em, Lucy!" She giggled, nodded excitedly, and charged out of the large wooden door.
Stumbling outside onto the cobblestone path, She threw a glance back at their little two story cottage. Usually it was very messy , due to her ten older brothers. But they all left the family, applied to the army and were at boot camp. She missed their handsome wrinkled faces all the time.
Alone, She skipped, passing many different cottages and stared into the dirty windows (feeling like a stalker).
Happy scenes played out before her blue eyes (Which she despised ) . Mothers throwing grimy food at young ones. Young ones screaming and pulling ,with all their might, siblings hair. Fathers gruffly wrestling and giving noogies to sons. And aunts showing sisters how to make themselves beautiful with mud, swamp water and all the latest fashion accessories. She sighed and marveled at the harmonized civilization. A pale figure caught her attention. She waved frantically until the person noticed and slunk to her. The pale boy walked to her side. Soulful green eyes peered at her through black hair.
"Hey, Liam," She piped. He looked paler than usual. When he didn't reply but instead looked rather upset, She knew something was up. They were both fourteen. They've been friends for fourteen years.
"You okay?"
"No"
"What's wrong?"
"Let's go to the treehouse."
When they were wee little toddlers, their parents made them a treehouse in the Old Elm deep in the lush forest. They always went and hid there to talk in private. There's pretty much no other place to find privacy. Goblins don't have much regard for personal space.
