Rogue

My only memory of being a child is of being seven and running through the woods with a dark haired boy, the air rushing past us, the sound of twigs breaking underfoot as we ran. Laughing we just ran, jumped and tumbled our way through the trees. I can hear his laughter even when I wake up surrounded by the white of my room; the echo of his laughter fills my head and makes me smile. My one treasured memory from before; before I lived in the palace of air, before I found out I was different.

I don't belong here; I know most teenagers say they have a feeling of not belonging, of being different but I can sense it. I know I must sound mad, but I have senses I can't explain, my hearing is so sharp, I can hear a pin drop on the other side of the room, my vision is so sharp it sometimes feels like I am seeing everything in slow motion, my sense of smell is so strong, I can smell where someone has been and finally my ability to run faster than everyone else in the palace. I can run for hours without being winded or tired. I'm not a normal girl, I just can't remember anything before my seventeenth birthday, apart from my dream boy and those woods.

And so it begins my escape from the palace.