If you're gonna walk on thin ice might as well dance

Prologue☆

Edited: 1/5/2022

Y/N l/N: Origin

        When I was child I moved into a new neighborhood full of new people, new jobs, new friends, new life. I was naive at the time and of course couldn't understand certain aspects of the world. Like how good and bad people coexist and how people can change. For the best or worse.

It was because I was what you would call innocent. I was still in my adolescence stage learning about the pros and cons of growing up. People often telling children to keep out of trouble. But did that stop me, no it did not. In fact I was a curious child and never really understood the saying,

"curiosity killed the cat," but understood "satisfaction brought it back." Most of the girls in the neighborhood thought I was a boy. It was because my hair was cut shorter than average. Leading them to believe I was one. Now that I think about it, it wasn't so bad.

The only reason my hair got the chop was because of a dare. And that leads to another reason why the girls thought I was a boy. Because I would hang out with the guys, in my opinion it wasn't all that different, just better? It depends on the person. It also wasn't like I was the only girl.

The girls would play dolls, stay inside,
and talk about dresses and have tea parties. If I'm being honest I secretly envied them. Not because of the stuff they did but because they knew each other. They all looked like sisters. It also would of been embarrassing if my friends were to catch me doing "girly" stuff.

So I always told them "It wasn't my cup of tea," it was more fun to play outside and do dangerous stuff. And by dangerous stuff I mean like stepping on the street without a parent or knocking on someone's door and leaving. Also known as ding dong ditching.

But even though I was surrounded by kids,
it was still lonely. Sure I had the boys, but it's not like I considered them my close friends. They were just playmates who I would goof around and converse to. Nothing more than that, sadly.

Some afternoons I would hang out alone at the playground. Most of the kids were at home eating dinner with their families. Did I forget to mention that I was an orphan? Yeah, pretty much explains why I was always outside. Most of the other kids parents offered to let me stay over but I would decline. Since that was too much of a hassle. I had often kept to myself and adventured into the "unknown," wondering why I was the unluckiest bird in the nest to be left behind.

My parents had passed away in a crash. Our car had collided and flipped out of the lane. It all seems so blurry. Just the side of the hill and the silence of my parents. I was three and fortunately I had survived. I had to go through multiple medical procedures to get to the state I'm in currently. When my parents were pronounced dead at the hospital after my examination, I had felt numb. Like my heart was slowly cracking into pieces. My throat had also formed a lump that wouldn't go away for a week.

My skin turned pale and a sickly feeling made my stomach churn in disgust. I had stayed in place not moving all, and I had accepted the fact that my parents weren't coming back. I went to the funeral a week later and wore all black knowing that it was to mourn for their lives.

Little me didn't like to wear such a color on this day because wouldn't they want to have a happy departure. I was moved into the orphanage since my parents had no other living relatives, and I had stayed there for a year or so. The kids there were nice.

I later moved because they were relocating me into a new orphanage. Since the one I originally lived in was too "Full." My role models were the caretakers that worked at the orphanage. They taught me many things and encouraged me. My favorite caretaker was Miss. Florence.

Those were the good old days full of bliss and childish antics. It had always been the same way since I moved, nothing really changed. I had the same repeated mornings, afternoons, and nights. It would get lonely and I would feel the sudden urge to find friends. Since I was considered the weird one in the neighborhood.

I was five by now and still hadn't developed my quirk. Which is frowned upon by many of the kids. Heck even society thought it was weird. I just think of myself as a late bloomer and I'll get it if I keep on believing. But let's face it...if I don't have one I'll just work even harder for it. 

One day thinking it was going to be the
same boring events to take place again. I met up with my friends but a new kid decided to join. A certain green haired boy who had freckles decorated across his cheeks decided to play our game of tag.

That day we both wouldn't have guessed what we were getting ourselves into.