The Difference We Hold

Prologue

Ever since I was orphaned my name was lost. The family who fostered me first called me Ivory. I have been known as that ever since. But, while people saw me as a person some figured out my secret. They saw me differently. I was seen as being devoid of emotion. I was seen as a heartless void. I was seen as a twisted, psychotic monster. The people of today don't tolerate those of us who are different. I once met a girl who could talk with the wind. It brought her whispers of those who lay beyond the grave, those who are never to return. Sometimes she would seek out the relatives of these people and tell them their loved one's last wishes, knowingly putting her life on the line. But one person, a middle-aged man who didn't care for the lost wife who wished to tell him her dying secret, went straight for the authorities. I saw her only once after that. She was outside the experimentation plant, her body was mangled, broken and bloody. Her head was neatly cut open with no brain in it. Her once bright silver eyes were staring and dull and her fragile, broken body was swaying in the breeze that had once so faithfully talked to her and was now tasked with carrying her to the people she had befriended. Those of you who are different, are not welcome. Ever. The words were never formally written down but the message was clear. We were not welcome. Ever.