I always knew there was something different about me but I did not in my wildest dreams ever think that this would happen to me. It wasn't fair that the mortals got to grow up with normal families, normal houses, normal friends and normal lives. I would have traded with them any day, but everyone who knew me told me I was lucky. Hah! Luck has nothing to do with it!

'Mel...Mel?' I ignored the timid voice drifting up the stairs to my room, preferring to sprawl idly on my chaise lounge. Felix lay curled up on my stomach, his ginger paws and tail flicking occasionally as he chased mice through his dreams.

'Mel!' Not once in my entire life had I heard my dad shout, he always used his 'inside voice', which he tried to, on numerous occasions, persuade me to use. Why should I be quiet? We lived in a detached house, with walls so thick no sound ever escaped, in the middle of a new estate that contained hundreds more houses identical to ours. Black door, silver knocker, two-bedrooms, one bathroom, one en-suite, two storied detached house.

'Mel, darling, could you come downstairs please?' I let out a bored sigh and clambered to my feet. Felix, graceful as ever, tumbled to the floor landing on his head then turning to look at me with disorientated and accusing eyes.

'Sorry.' I muttered to the cat. After a fleeting look he, with the greatest dignity, started to clean his ridiculously fluffy ears. That cat sure could hold a grudge. I trundled downstairs, skirt swinging and another annoying pop song fluttering around my head. When I got to the kitchen I grabbed the OJ carton from the table and took a huge gulp.

'Go back upstairs and get changed.' I looked down at my outfit confirming my suspicions that I was in fact dressed and had not almost left for school in my bra and knickers.

'Um dad, if you hadn't noticed, I am dressed.' He looked up from his newspaper disapproval radiating from his entire being.

'Do we have to do this every morning, noon and night Mel? I will not have you going out looking like...like that!' All delivered in his typical hushed monotonous voice. He snatched the OJ carton away from my mouth and casually poured the orange liquid down the sink before tossing the crumpled carton in the bin. Colours swam before my eyes and I tried desperately to remember the anger management exercises Dr. Charter had taught me. When that failed I attempted to recall the soothing tones of Trina, my yoga instructor's resonating voice. Calm flooded through me washing away my rage. When I opened my eyes my dad's concerned face stared back at me.

'You OK, kiddo?' His voice trembled a bit and I saw that he didn't mean to infuriate me with his stupid little comments; he was only concerned for my welfare, though I don't know why my clothes had him trembling so badly. Shame filled my eyes, I loved my dad more than anything in the world and I couldn't even keep my anger in check around him.

'All the other kids wear clothes like this. Why can't I?' I already felt defeated and prepared myself to go back up. I sighed, close to tears. My fits left me overemotional and depressed. I hated being different. Surprisingly I heard my dad's questioning tone:

'All the other children, wear clothes like those?' I forced myself not to look at him; sure he was toying with me. I had never won this argument before.

'Yeah, they do. I'm always the odd one out. I have all the clothes and believe me dad I have a GREAT fashion sense but I only ever get the chance to wear them inside this dull house.' A brief glimpse of his face showed his nervous expression and his eyes informed me of his indecision.

'All the girls are wearing these?' He indicated my mini-skirt and sweater set.

'Well not this exact outfit, but yeah, pretty much.' I replied, hope perforating my voice.

'OK then, well I'm sorry Mel, seems I owe you an apology. Have a great day at school. Behave! By the way, I love you!' His swift change of attitude and subject left me way behind him. I stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds before answering with my usual response, though my tone was way off:

'Have a great day at work. Behave! Oh and by the way, right back at ya!'

I left the house that day feeling happy and optimistic. Well, that wasn't going to last for long.