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Dawn Summers heard a faint knock on her office door and looked up from her paper work. A curly mop of blonde hair peeped from behind the crack. Its owner's face was red, puffy-eyed, and sniffling.

"Cee, what's wrong?" Dawn opened up her arms welcomingly. The 6-year-old girl rushed into her with a small thud. "now, tell mommey what's wrong."

The young girl talked into her mothers skirts, taking small breaks to let out more heart-filled sobs.

"Theother, girls, said, that I shouldn't go hear, because," the girl gave of a very dramatic pause, then continued "I'm not like them."

"How are you not like them." Dawn tried to be as rational as possible.

"I don't know!" the weeping child wailed. "They just say I'm diferent."

Dawn signed. She lifted the trembling body onto her lap and stroked the soft blande curls.

"Here, let me tell you a story. When I was a young, there was a time when I lived in a house with a hundred other girls."

"Really?" Celia opened her eyes wide. Then she giggled. "just like me."

"Sort of, except it was only one little house. With only one bathroom. And I was much older than you are." Celia nodded solomly.

"Now all of these girls were special. Like here. All of them were part of a big group that I couldn't get into. Once, I even thought that I was one of them, it turned out to be wrong. I'd never felt so wrong before, so different."

Celia hopped off her mother's lap. "So, what did you do?"

"A very close friend of mine told me some very wise words 'They'll never know how tough it is to be the one who isn't chosen. You're not special. You're extraordinary'"

The little girl smiled at this. "Am I extraordinary, too?"

Dawn smiled. "Of coarse you are. And do you know why? Because you're my little girl."

As Dawnie watched the the child skip out of the room, she smiled to her. Mental note, she thought, next time you see Xander, give him a hug. And with that she tidyied up her things, and went to see what the girls were up to now.