Fairy tales
Once upon a time, what a lame beginning; how so many people got away with it is beyond me. I am going to start, well, differently.
He was sick, he was evil and he was the worst you could meet. His skin was a yellowish from over stress and sickness that never seemed to pass. He wore all black but more the Dracula kind than gothic. He wasn't old but looked weary with age, his long greasy hair was a slimy black and his eyes sank into his head. He was walking through the forest; it was a dark and mystical night. Faeries mocked him as he past laughing at his yellow face and hollow eyes, they obviously glistened with beauty, not him he was ugly. He reached out swatting their pestle frame; the three-inch faeries fell as he hit their glittery wings. He carried on walking ignoring the faeries chants, "ugly and evil," not the most insulting for him he had had worse.
He was Lucifer the son of the most hated villain a late decedent of Captain hook, second cousin of the troll under the bridge and the nephew of the witch of the west he wasn't having much luck. His father well he didn't even know who he was and his mother had spent but time, beating or spitting on her pathetic offspring. "He had always held her back" she would say "lower than dirt he was." After a while the child Lucifer believed it he told himself he was lower than dirt. That was how he became hated. He was unlike the lines before him, not evil. He only produced a painful tongue and could curse the brightest flower to wilt, if he opened his mouth at all.
At the age of twelve he left his mother, he set about to find a relative to care for him, he had stood gazing through the windows of other children seeing them with their families. The worst was Christmas day he walked the streets slowly in his battered shoes and stopped a Mary Jane's house. He looked through the window his dirty eyes filled with tears, the whole family sat around the fire hugging one another opening presents. Lucifer was twelve, a boy. Boys don't cry he said as he thought of his own home. Tears flowed down his face uncontrollably as his head spun with his mother's harsh words. He didn't return home that night, nor the one after, Lucifer could no longer take the way things were. Children mocked him, eyes stared at his mucky face, but not anymore he ran and began to search, he had many relatives one must care he told himself as he flew in his stride. As night fell and three years past he began to find the ever-beckoning truth.