I had always been different. That was a definite fact. For example, when I was five, I was able to hit a note so high in my preschool musical, that it shattered glass. Also, at that same recital, this weird guy tried to jump me onstage. No one would listen to me, but I swear up and down that he was some weird snake guy. Another example, when I was in fourth grade, my school caught fire. My teacher, who had been an idiot, might I add, didn't react fast enough. Therefore, myself and three other kids were caught in the burning building. While the others screamed for help and cried in pain, I sat in the middle of the flames, untouched, and stared at the different shapes the flames made. I made it out with no burns on my body at all.

Everyone thought I was a freak. I got into so many fights at school, that I had been expelled from a different school almost each year. I had a temper, so what? I dare you to live a day in my house and see how sane you are by the end of it. Also, being ADHD and dyslexic doesn't help.

I didn't have parents. I had never met either of them. I lived with my stepdad, and his two 'princesses.' He never spoke of my mother, even though, in all technicality, he was still married to her.

Richard was a tall man in his late forties. His dark, oily hair was short and balding in front. His dark beady eyes lit with every right his girls did, and darkened at every wrong I did. He was tall, tall enough that all his ugly pinstriped suits had to be hand tailored. He was beginning to get a bit of a belly in front, and it was quite funny to watch his youngest try to get him to work out with her.

Bella and Kellie were his 'princesses' from his previous marriage. Both had their father's dark brown hair. Bella's was long and Kellie's was short. Both had the same dark eyes, and that same tall gene. It scared me that they looked nothing like their own mother, and everything like their father.

Bella was an 'artiste.' As she puts it. She paints, sings, dances, and so on and so forth. She's the school's soprano. In all honestly, she's not even very good. She's always making her pictures into blobs, her voice cracks while singing, and she can't handle difficult choreography.

Kellie was the athlete. She runs track, and plays soccer and softball. She loved to run. Run, run, run, run. Everything had to be done quickly. She was fast paced and expected the rest of us to be too. She usually gave up on me after the third time I threw something at her when she tried to wake me up at 5 in the morning for a jog around town.

All three of them hated me. I took the spotlight away from Bella when it came to singing and dancing. I can beat Kellie at jogging in the morning when I actually get up. I loved watching the sunrise. Something about it fascinated me. My most prized possession was my guitar that I had had for so long, I can't remember. I've literally had it since I was born. It was a gift from one of my parents. I knew how to play it, known songs and ones I make up. They hated me for it. They hated me because I was different. That known fact makes me an outsider in my own home.

I guess now would be a good time to tell you who I was. My name is Flare Ruik. I have sandy hair that falls to my shoulder blades that I usually pin back out of my face with bobby pins. My eyes are a mixture of yellow, red, and orange, almost like fire. I was fourteen years old when everything started. My biggest mistake led to my biggest headache, that in the end turned out to be my biggest, and best adventure.

Thanks for reading the prologue.

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