number 3

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number 3

If not the author shall tell you who shall? The priestess? Or what not the flower with supernatural powers? Or possibly the alien who puffs bad breath out of your butt at the worst moment possible?

No. Of course not. It's the character who tells all inside a true life you sick people call a story. Have you not noticed my life could be real? I'm not just a character stuck inside a book.

Very well then. 10 years ago i watched the dark sky. for yet the only things that stood bright out into the night were stars. Not just the any old plain mini suns in the sky that look like wannabe light bulbs. The shooting stars that look as if there were streamers flying behind them. I just happened to make the worst or best choice of my life right then and there at the age of 6. What i wished on the shooting star changed my whole life. Not just my life in that old orphanage. But the whole way i saw and felt things.

Or maybe it wasnt that shooting star that happened to change my life. Maybe i was just born wit that special power. Maybe me wishing just gave me the reason to look into it deeper and find what my life truly is supposed to be.

Maybe all of that.

Like I said, nothing was ever the same to me. No people were the same as i thought they were. This supposed gift i have could possibly be making my life better for the time being or possibly worse. Now with a gift like mine, there has to consequences right? is it the deadly dandelion? Or could it be the aliens living inside my glottis maximum(or  however you spell it)??? No of course not. With a special oh so great talent of mine there is something worse. Yes, even worse than aliens in my behind.

I am hunted. Wanted if you call it that. I am a special person. Gifted if you would say. Every 10,000 years there is a person just like me. that would be saying only around 10 people like me? possibly less. There are two types of my kind. The true kinds who where just happened to become like that by mistake. And the fakers like so called psychic. Now, all the people in those types of fortune teller shops are those fakers. Us, our kind, would never sell our ability for money or cash. Even if one of us did do that he or she wouldnt be alive today. Only i would be the one of our century.

And my special ability, yes, is a secret. I mean, this secret is as important... scratch that.... more important that your secret of you 'having a crush' or 'i have my little baby blankie from when I was 3'. In school you could say im not hated... im just not talked to either. A lot of people couldnt care less about me. Of course, there are the occasional pervs and players who try to get into my pants. But thats not how the way things work with me. Nope.

And my parents... you could say i have parents but they think I died at the age of 12 days. I really am born parentless but my flesh and blood is with that family so... they're my half parents i guess.  But I lived alone in that foster home. Now, because of a pleasant charity, I live alone in a small house by myself. There used to be someone taking care of me. There still is. Mrs. Merrivale. The owner of the house, leader of the charity, and the co owner of the foster home.

My last name. Well, that ones a hard one. I dont take up the last name as my flesh and blood parents. I usually never cared for my last name. It really wouldnt make a difference whether they knew or didnt. But i would have to say anyway. I never would choose on picking another person's last name. I went with Incanto. I dont know why or how, its just the word that i want as my last name.

Right now, I was sitting. sitting on the damp wet grass. dew just started to form. I hugged my knees and leaned against a tree. It was nearly night now. The sun just began to set over the long horizon. The sky was orange, the gray clouds passing by. There was a small breeze. At 7.32 miles per hour 12 degrees north.

I was alone in the park of Meade, Michigan. The trees around were just blooming, Small pink and white buds form and petals drifting down to the ground. Just a normal Saturday in Febuary. Not much different today. At least. No monsters. No stupid werewolves. No friggen vampires. Just a simple plain old day.

The sky grew darker as the sun fell. Creating a deeper orange in the sky. Eventually turning into pink, then purple. Then all fading into a dark navy blue sky. Only to see a full moon. And stars. A bunch and bunch of stars.

I could be relaxed. I could be calmed and happy. But no. I just didnt have the time for that. There was something I needed to do. Something very important. I cant just waste my life hanging around near boys just for their true mates cry. I just couldnt do that. My mission is important. Whether I die to complete it or not. Im dead anyways.

Yes you can even say im dead too.

I am dead.

Astraea is dead.

Astraea Elizabeth is dead.

Astraea Elizabeth Incanto is dead.

Yes,

I, Astraea Elizabeth Incanto, am dead.

Now you may not know why. Now you may not know how. But you will know. You will know soon. The pieces just arent simply put together right. You just have to turn them around by yourselves and you'll see and be able to prove that.

I, Astraea Elizabeth Incanto, am dead.

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