"Faster! Faster! Faster!"
Jack stuffed a handful of celery into his mouth, grimaced, and chewed quickly. To his left, Tommy was almost done his plate. Jack's still had a clump of spinach. He was about to lose. He swallowed, and, in a desperate bid for the win, he tipped his plate into his mouth. The greens tumbled in, nearly choking him.
"No!" Tommy mumbled around his food, grabbing his last few baby tomatoes and tossing them into his mouth.
Jack, with great difficulty, swallowed, and then threw up his hands in victory, "Done!" he gasped. "I win! I win!"
"What?" Tommy protested. "I won! You cheated!"
But no one heard him over the rising cry of, "Ja-ack! Ja-ack!"
The young spectators crowded around Jack, tugging him towards the grand prize: Mrs. Finch's pumpkin pie. It was hot from the oven, glamorous, wondrous, magical. Mrs. Finch made the best pumpkin pies in the entire village. Every year, as per tradition, all the children in the village had a vegetable-eating contest, where they would eat the healthiest food that was given to them. Whoever finished first would take home one of Mrs. Finch's pies. This was Jack's idea, after he had overheard adults complaining about how their children never ate healthy, and were becoming sickly. Jack had always held the crown.
He punched his fist into the air in triumph, a cackle of delight escaping his lips. Winning anything was always exhilarating. Mrs. Finch handed him his pie, smiling tightly. "Thanks," Jack shouted over the commotion. She turned away, refusing to acknowledge him.
His shoulders stiffened. The adults of the village, save his father, had always treated him with disapproval and fear. They whispered that his mother was a witch, that she vanished after her father had chased her away, though only after she had borne him a child. Jack was different than the others. Jack made strange things happen. Or rather, strange things happened around Jack. The villagers whispered that he was part demon, that he had inherited his mother's wicked powers. They didn't want their children near him, and yet it was him that they idolized and went to. It was with him that they found fun and happiness.
The village elders had told his father to throw him away, to kill him. It is the only way, they pleaded, but he refused. The day seemed to have gotten darker. He let out a gasp of surprise as his adorable sister Pippa launched himself onto his arm and led him through the village in triumph.
Jack shook his head to drive away the dark thoughts. He'd show them, sooner or later, that he wasn't who they thought he was. He'd become so wonderful with his magic and show them that he wasn't a monster. With this in his mind, he straightened his back and gripped the plate of pumpkin pie and walked away, the children hurrying after him.
