I sigh and roll over in my bed. No matter how hard I try, I cannot sleep. I am too worried about tomorrows events. The more I stay awake, the more I dread the morning. It’s just not fair! Then again, many things in my life had been unfair...
“Mama,” I asked, “Why do so many people avoid me and hate me?” I asked one mid-summer’s afternoon. My mother sighed and put down her sewing. Eventually, she said,
“Because you were the 13th child that the midwife delivered. The number 13 is unlucky, so people believe you to be a bad omen. A curse on our village.”
“That’s not fair! It’s not my fault!” I asked.
“I know, but they are superstitious. Ignore them. But I’m afraid it’s something you’ll have to put up with for the rest of your life.” She said sadly. Ever since that conversation I had as a small child, I felt hated. Not by my family, but by the villagers around me. I hoped that my friends didn’t know this, as I could risk losing them.
“Tag!” Squealed Emma as she ran up behind me and poked my back. I laughed and began chasing Casper. We were playing in the woods, like we usually do every afternoon until suddenly, we heard a voice saying,
“Please can I play?” We stopped in our tracks and spun round to face a boy of around our age with straw coloured hair and amber eyes. I was just about to say yes when Emma grabbed my arm and whispered, “He’s the new boy. I don’t like him."
“Why not?” I whispered back.
“Because of his eyes.” She replied. I didn’t see anything wrong with his eyes. It’s not fair to say no because of something so small, so I said yes. The others nodded and we went back to our game. As the days went by, we became friends with the boy. His name was Tom.