"Amélie Do not worry, we can just lock her in the basement, no one will see the ugliness that could curse our world." Antoine whispered to his wife staring at the disfigured baby she held in her arms, one side of her face was completely normal… the other, horridly disfigured. Though they lived in France, It was not unusual to keep these children away from the world.
"I cannot, I couldn't do such a thing to an innocent child, though looking at her fills my heart with terror." She replied pointedly.
But she is not innocent... she is conceived of the devil" He snapped.
"No! She is mine! She cannot be conceived of a devil, perhaps a fallen angel!" Her mother cried. Annoyed he smacked her across the face and took the baby and her crib down to the basement locking the door on his way up. They had agreed that it would be written down as a miscarriage. And nothing more…. Her mother even grew to hate her, and they raised her siblings the same way.
In due time, the child grew, skinny but surprisingly strong, she looked out the window her heart full of pain as it was a full night and she could see everyone walking by. She had taught herself French, but was on her way to learning English, she was surprisingly smart for no education, due to the fact that she taught herself to read. As they walked past she would find herself singing instead of screaming like the other kids did.
"All is holy outside this room everything bright and beautiful tonight a heart of fair maiden, I cannot rejoice this room the only place i've known, locked up nice and tight. I hope to keep myself aglow, through out thy yonder light, though my heart be broken still, I will not forget.. tonight. Tonight! I feel the wind blowing through my hair, I want nothing in return but fresh midnight air! this Heart I keep in me, will hold haunt me for dim and darker night can fall, but if I hold true, the horrors haunting you, will go. So, hush little one, don't speak a word, light is off, fire and burned. hearts in the right place. My light... I need someone... tonight." As her song finished the other children in the cellars began to scream, she simply sat on the edge of the pile of clothes that they called her bed. Her eyes were wet and glimmering from remembrance of what had happened to her just a day ago. Her sister Adélaïde Had come down with a whip and beat her for the fun of it. She sat and let it happen. Then she noticed something, today would be her 12th birthday, remembering and English culture she read about she started to sing their birthday songs. "Happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you happy birthday dear Anastasia Happy birthday to you." She liked to say her name for there was no one to say it for her. Realizing the window lattice had opened she squeezed out of it, and ducked the arm of her father who tried to catch her.