The cursed child

Hey there, my names....... well I honestly don't know.
Ever since that girl died, I've always been known as the cursed freak.
I am thirteen years of age, brown hair and dark brown eyes, their almost black.
For years I have been abused, physically and verbally.
I had one friend once, but she turned on me once that girl died.

The way that girl died, it changed everyone.
It was the first test of the year, I was struggling on a question.
I think her name was Daisy, anyway, she tried helping me with the question, she explained it in different ways, nut it just wasn't working, all she was doing was building by rage.
Only moments later she started puking. Everyone crowded round to see. They all tried to guess what it was, they tried, and they failed. I must have been the only one who knew what it was. Mistletoe.
If felt like for ever, she was puking it. Soon enough she started puking blood. Later, she died.
Everyone blamed me for her death. I was the only one close enough to do anything.
From that day, I have been known as the Cursed Freak.
Disowned, abused.