All My Old Writing.

Marked (Prologue)

Marked

Prologue

Staring at me, he called my name. I’m sure he was relieved to finally get rid of me. He had always looked down at me, knowing I would never be like him, like everyone. I was always different, but he was the only one who knew. I looked around, more than half the village was there to mourn after my ceremonial banishment. Others would come home to the dreaded news; I would no longer be able to protect them. My rugged, robust form was a familiar sight to everyone, along with my brown hair. But now everyone was well informed, I was too different. I was too strong. They all made up excuses.

“Waverly. It’s time.”

I was wearing my robe, my robe of shame. My marks were hiding, under the cloth hood. Everyone saw through it, as if the thick cloth wasn’t even there.

“Yes, sir,” I replied as I bowed respectfully.

“Waverly, you have disgraced the village with your vulgar, and your disrespectful lies,” He boomed, his voice carrying over the sudden outbursts of tears around the room,” you are now officially banished.”

“Yes, sir,”

“You will go and pack and leave by dawn tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Go.”

I bowed again and walked out of the room, the room filled with mourners, filled with family and friends I would no longer see. I opened the large, Victorian doors into the brisk, cool night air. I stood still, embracing the dwindling memories of the peaceful village.

I knew I would never see it again. Even if I did come back in ten years, the beasts would have overtaken the village. Everyone knew, they tried to relish the few days or weeks, or if they were lucky, years before they were dead.

I walked to my house silently, listening to the chilling, crisp wind blow. After tonight, it would no longer be my home, my village.