The people in the neighboring village never liked me.

Ever since I was born, when Father first introduced me to the village as his daughter, people were skeptical. They rejected me as his daughter, as something they should care for. As I grew, I became used to it. Father always told me that I shouldn't care, and soon I didn't. I was an attribute my Father told me was special, was rare.

Every few days, my Father and I would have to walk to the village to collect food and trade wood. It was a day I had learned to endure.

Father and I began to walk just after sunrise, tracking down the smooth, dirt path that led to the village. It was early, the sunrise painting the sky in vibrant oranges and pinks behind the tops of the trees. The cool morning air nipped at my nose and cheeks, the sound of the morning birds warming my ears.

Father had started to sit in the wagon as he grew old. That left me carrying the wagon by myself, but I had the strength to carry it. It wasn't a long treck. Today he sat in the wagon. His back was hurting, and the load of wood was light. He had enough room to lay down, but he sat upright and let his feet dangle off the edge. I held the two handles on each of my hand, lifting the wagon.

I always had abnormal strength, a reason people never liked me.

I heard Father's voice behind me. "Do you want me to come walk with you? I can lift some weight from your hands," He suggested. His voice was laced with a little exhaustion, but he tried to hide it.

I smiled slightly but shouted back, "It's okay, Father! You're free to sleep, just don't get all grumpy when I wake you up!" His laughter came from behind me, then the creaking of the wood as he adjusted himself and lay down. He mumbled his thank you and faded into sleep.

I didn't mind, walking through the woods as I knew it was calming. It was when I passed the old oak tree stump that I took a deep breath. The village was just over the hill. I took a deep breath in, rolled my neck and continued forward.

The village stretched over a large clearing surrounded by trees, a river running through the center, a sturdy bridge leaning over it. The buildings were made of wood and stone, rocky stone pathways weaving through the houses. I took small breaths - in and out, in and out - before I walked through the entrance to the village; a gate and archway decorated with pretty pink flowers. I began to make my way to the village square. It was an open place, stone floor, and marketplaces.

I made my way through the streets, already feeling the eyes on me. My stomach clenched, that feeling of calm when I was walking through the forest moments ago gone. I was careless now. Women and men and children walked by, wearing simple, colorless clothing. They all gave me the same face, and snarled at me, but moved out of my way. I wouldn't snarl back, it would only provoke them.

The roads were familiar here, I recognized every wooden building and very stone path. The sky was blue today, clouds began to fill the sky. Potted plants and flowers littered the outside of people's houses and their windows were open.

I didn't pay attention to the people, just made sure not to make eye contact and keep walking forward.

I had learned that too long ago, the less interaction the better.

I made it to the town center, a large area of stalls. In the center, a large water feature reflected the sun. You would see children there all the time, throwing in coins and splashing each other. I would always remember when I tried to play with them, of which then they wouldn't let me. As a child, it hurt. But I didn't care anymore.

I maneuvered my cart through the stalls, ignoring the dirty looks I got from shoppers and sellers. When I found an empty spot, I guided the cark in the spot. I set it down, the weight gone from my hands. I rubbed my sore wrists, my hands red from the wooden handles. I walked to the back of the cart, to see Father lying there asleep. I carefully nudged him, "Father," I began to muse. "We're here now, you have to help me set up."

He stirred, woke and looked at me with tired eyes. "Okay," He groaned. "I'm awake."

I smiled and helped him from the cart, his back objecting to the movement. I set up the store with firewood and wood carvings, and, when we were done, Father ushered me back to the cart to rest. I wasn't actually tired, but I obliged and sat on the cart as I watched him trade away our wood to people. As they came by, they looked at me with the same judgemental eyes, but I turned my head away and ignored them.

I climbed further into the openly aired cart. The wood was hard and cold against my back, I propped my head back on the wall. I turned my head to look over at the stall, where Father exchanged another wad of firewood for money. I began to let myself fade, no longer be aware of what was around me.

Father and I came here twice a week to sell what we had cut from the trees. Sometimes I even carved small designs on the rim of the logs, but soon found it useless. When people found out I was the one who did it, they kindly gave it back. Father taught me how to do it, so now he carves and sells his stuff instead.

I shook my head as the light and color changed in front of my eyes. Father had come and stood in front of the cart, "Hey, Arson." He said, smiling. He carried coins in his hand, which he outstretched to me. "We can end today a little early if you can go to the shops and get us food? Bread, maybe get something for yourself."

"Yeah, of course," I said, shuffling out of the cart. I took the coins from his hand, exchanged a smile and began to walk out.

I slithered through the crowd quickly, I was very tall but slim. And people would move out of the way anyway. I kept weary eyes and ears as I quickly moved around, finding something to buy our food for the next few days.

As I looked, I didn't watch where I was going. Someone bumped into me with such force that it slightly winding me. I doubled back a few steps, to see a small woman in her early fifty's looking but up at me. Her eyes were filled with anger. "Excuse me?" She frowned, hands on hips. Crap, I thought to myself. I didn't need this.

I sighed, not answering her. I only looked down at her with tired eyes. This only fueled her. "Excuse me?" She screamed. "Watch your step, witch!" I breathed in and out. A crowd had begun to gather now, giving both concerned and proud faces. A flicker of annoyance sparked, but I ignored it.

I heard someone pushed through the crowd behind me, and in a second Father was by my side. "Everything is okay," He began in a soothing voice. His hands were in the air as if to calm. But the woman wasn't having it.

"Are you really defending her?" She shouted at Father. "How can you still do that? You know she's not your daughter!" Her words were sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. I saw Father flinch beside me, but her words had no effect on me. If anything, I was getting sick of her.

"She hasn't grown in fifty years! She hadn't changed, she hadn't grown old! She had strength beyond the men, she is faster! How, how do you explain that!"

"Miss-"

"She's a demon! She's not natural! She's not your daughter, don't you see?" Her voice was shrill and angry, I saw so many emotions flash across my Father's fact at once. "Her existence is an accident, no one want's her here?" She looked me dead in the eye;

"Just go and die, would you?"

This is what I was, no one liked me for what I was, for who I was.

I was angry now, I needed to calm down. My hands were clasped into fists, I needed to get away from here.

So I ran.

The people gathered parted for me.

I didn't listen to Father's voice called for me,

I didn't listen to the laughter and grunts of the townsfolk,

I only focused on running far away from here.