Hope and I were finishing the last sand tower — well, I was finishing it, Hope had already engineered something that looked like a medieval fortress mapped by a professional architect — when the front door squeaked open.
All the younger kids froze like startled animals.
The visitor had arrived.
I sat up a little straighter, brushing sand off my knees. A woman stepped into the yard — maybe late 30s, nice clothes, neat hair, polite smile. The kind of smile adults use when they're trying really hard to look friendly.
Eli greeted her warmly. Hank stood behind them, arms crossed but polite.
The woman scanned the yard, still smiling.
And then… she hesitated.
Just a flicker.
Barely noticeable.
But I caught it.
Her eyes lingered on the boy with scale patches — only for a moment — then slid past him quickly. Too quickly. Like looking any longer might make her uncomfortable.
Her gaze landed on the dog-boy next… and she stepped a tiny bit further away from him.
Then one girl with the snake-hair waved excitedly, and the woman actually flinched.
Not big.
Not obvious.
More like a jolt.
A brief lightning strike of "oh—!"
But it was there.
And then she saw me.
Her smile dropped.
Not stalled.
Not twisted.
Just… gone.
Like her brain acting skills disapeared and she couldn't keep up a fasad.
She didn't step toward me.
She didn't step away.
Just paused long enough that I suddenly felt very, very aware of my glowing eyes and sharp teeth that were all shown due to this skin not being there. I tried to wipe the drool that accedently slipped out but it seemed it wouldn't have changed much.
Hope shifted beside me.
All her open eyes narrowed — not angry, just… knowing.
well she does have a lot of eyes so i'm not to suprised she was
able to see what happened. but aslo the lady didn't really try and hide it.
The visitor didn't look at Hope at all.
She looked around her.
Like Hope wasn't a kid in a dress — just something she didn't want to acknowledge.
And that's when it hit me, all at once.
Like cold water dumped over my head.
The older kids weren't quiet because they were shy.
They weren't avoiding the visitor because they didn't care.
They already knew.
They knew exactly how this went.
The visitor's eyes skimmed the yard again, searching for someone easy. Someone "normal." Someone who didn't have extra eyes or horns or scales or fangs or faces that belonged in fantasy games.
She didn't want us.
She wanted a kid.
Not… this orphanage's version of "kids."
A little girl with humming bird wings zipped over and posed in front of her like she practiced all morning. The woman laughed — real warmth this time — and patted her head gently.
The girl beamed.
And Hope, next to me, lowered her gaze.
All her eyes closed.
Every one.
As if disappearing into herself.
Luke, horn still retracted, hunched his shoulders.
Lily just stared with that quiet, older-than-seven expression that said:
Welcome to reality.
I swallowed hard.
Yesterday, I thought my quirk made me cool.
This morning, I was thrilled to show it off.
Even now, some part of me still felt proud of it.
But sitting there in the sand, watching that woman avoid looking directly at me…
I realized something ugly.
Something heavy.
People weren't going to see me as "cool."
They were going to see me the way she just did:
A little bit scary.
A little bit wrong.
A little bit… unwanted.
I touched my face, tracing the outline of my jaw where the snout had shifted earlier.
My fingers felt normal.
But for the first time, I wondered if "normal" didn't matter anymore.
Because outside this yard, outside Hank and Eli's kindness and this strange, messy family… people weren't going to understand us.
And some wouldn't even try.
The visitor finally pointed toward the butterfly-wing girl.
"I'd like to talk to her," she said.
Eli smiled kindly and nodded.
As she led the girl inside, the entire yard relaxed in this sad, resigned way — like everyone had been holding their breath waiting for the inevitable.
Hope opened one eye.
Just one.
It stared straight at me.
Not creepy.
Not blank.
Just… understanding.
And for the first time since dying, reincarnating, and joining this terrifying Cartoon Network cast of children…
I didn't feel awesome.
I just felt human.
And somehow, that was enough for me.
I already knew this kind of thing would probably happen… but knowing didn't make it hurt any less. It settled in my chest like something heavy. Something slow. I didn't even want to think about my quirk anymore, not today.
The day kept moving anyway. Hope, and surprisingly Lily, stuck with me as we kept working on our mighty sandcastle. We were so close to finishing when one of the older kids stomped straight through it. Chunks of sand collapsed like they were never anything at all.
He wasn't even looking at us when he did it—just staring at the ground, jaw tight. Chitin crawled up his arms and ribs like armor, and a long tail, sharp like a scorpion's, swayed behind him. Slane always looked angry, but for some reason… I could tell this time it wasn't about us. He was angry at everything else.
Hope reacted instantly, all her eyes snapping open, all her mouths tightening into a scowl. Lily shrugged off her jacket beside me, and only then did I really see her arms—smooth, segmented, almost like a porcelain doll's. Her elbow bent the wrong way when she pointed at him, her upside-down hand shaking with irritation.
"You always act like this when you're not picked, Slane," she snapped. No fear. Just frustration.
Slane whipped toward her, that aggressive energy flaring again. He jabbed her shoulder with an armored finger. "Yeah? You wanna know why?" Another poke—harder.
"It's because we're FREAKS."
He shoved her as he walked forward, each push heavier than the last.
"JUST LIKE ME!"
Another shove.
"JUST LIKE HER!"
He pointed at Hope, and she flinched at the word.
"JUST LIKE HIM!"
He jabbed a finger in my direction. I had no idea why I was catching strays, but there I was.
"And JUST LIKE YOU!"
That last shove—his voice cracked. I swear it cracked. He threw his whole body into it, and Lily tried to brace, but her knees couldn't handle the force. Her upper body snapped backward while her feet stayed planted, like her joints couldn't agree on what to do. She hit the ground with a hollow thump.
Slane kept yelling, kept shoving, kept spiraling, and all I did was watch.
I wanted to step in. I wanted to help her. But my legs didn't move. My mouth didn't work. My hands felt useless.
Man… I feel pathetic, I thought, and the shame of it stung more than any shove could have.
After recess, I thought for sure someone would finally get onto Slane for what he did… but no one even bothered to tell Hank or Eli. It happened so often, it seems like everyone had just stopped caring.
Later, I pulled Lily aside and tried to apologize, but she cut me off before I could even get the words out.
Lily: "Don't worry 'bout it, dude. My body's like a doll's, so it's not too bad. I break easy, but I don't feel pain. And as long as I hold my pieces together, they reconnect."
She said it with so little concern, like it was just normal.
Maybe for her… maybe for all of them… it was normal.
I guess Slane does this so often that even when he hurts people, nobody cares anymore.
…Fine. Then I'll fix it myself.
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Sorry for taking a sec to make another page been a bit busy with finals and coming back home. hope to you enjoy and i will try to get one or two more by today.
prob just one tho