So let me tell you a little bit about my family, or lack thereof. My mother had me when she was nineteen, and absolutely adored me until she took her last breath. When I was nineteen. She was a strikingly beautiful woman blessed with a lovely mix of French and Italian blood. But I didn't get her looks. Not really, anyway. I have her complexion-that sun kissed mediterranean skin. The dimple in my left cheek when I smile is hers too. That's where the similarities end though. The rest is all my father. At least, according to what my mom told me. I have black hair - kept a little on the longish side ,that has an annoying penchant for falling into my eyes if I don't gel it. Sometimes I will if Im in the mood to but mostly not. My eyes are what you might call striking. They're purple. A deep, clear violet that women seem to enjoy staring into., and my eyebrows are kind of sharply arched which gives me a somewhat wicked look…or so I've been told.I My mother says I look just like my father, but I wouldn't know. I never knew him, never saw a picture, and he was never mentioned. As a child, I would ask my mother where he was, and why he didn't live with us. She would get a far away look and reply only "He had to leave , honey. He couldn't stay here" Needless to say that screwed me up a bit. When the other kids were playing ball with their dads, I played alone. Father's Day was just an ordinary Sunday. Eventually, I just stopped asking about him.
Moving ahead to school. I never had friends in school. I never had a friend ,period. The other kids all stayed away from me-surely acting upon orders from the High Parental Court of Intolerant Cruelty. HPCIC for short. Once I was older, I began to understand the whispers of "bastard", "witch", and "freaks". My mother was an herbalist with a heavy sprinkling of psychic ability, and the people in town avoided us like the plague. Until they crept up the front steps at night asking my mother to "fix them a little something" for their impotence or "find out if my husband is cheating on me". And they called us freaks. Go figure.
From a very young age, I felt an overwhelming amount of contempt and disgust for the imbecilic sheep that populated my town. Baa'ing and bleating and clustering and picking at each other. Sheep. That's all they were. All the while looking over their shoulders at me and whispering behind their hands. As I said, I developed a powerful hatred for these individuals and did everything in my power to make that known. I fought, stole, vandalized, and generally wreaked havoc, simply because I wanted to, and I could. Just to punish them for every smug glance, and implied slight. My mother, God bless her, understood somehow and surprisingly enough didn't try all that hard to stop me. I think she hated them too.
Fast forward to me at thirteen. A few significant things happened that year. The first being that I discovered my effect on women, and subsequently got, and botched my first kiss. You may be wondering why this is relevant. You'll see, it all comes full circle. So, me at thirteen. Well, I was already close to six feet tall but I was rather gawky. I've grown a couple inches and filled out some since then. Either way, I was beginning to draw a lot of attention from the other kids in town. Most of the guys desperately wanted to beat the living hell out of me, but were wary about picking a fight with "the witchs' kid". The girls, on the other hand, I think saw me as like the forbidden fruit. I caught them staring at me, and giggling to their friends, but none of them ever dared to actually come near me. I have to admit- I enjoyed the attention. It gave me some smug satisfaction. So I would wink at them, undress them with my eyes, and make them blush. But really, I knew that as The Outsider, I couldn't have anything to do with them. You learn to take what you can get. Well, all that changed.
One afternoon, I was sitting behind the school with my back to the wall, smoking a pilfered cigarette. At that moment, someone plopped down next to me. Stunned, I turned to see who the brave soul was, risking enchantment, death, or possibly both, to sit next to me. It was a girl Lauren, from my English class. I actually had a minor crush on her at the time. She seemed to not involve herself with the other sheep…and she was pretty cute. But I would never have spoken to her…sure of certain rejection. She just looked at me-not fearful, but calm; appraising. I looked back at her. We sat there in silence for what had to be close to a minute, until finally, I spoke." What do you want. Did you get a good enough look? Oh, wait, I know, did your friends bet you 5 bucks that you couldn't sit with me for two minutes without being turned into a frog? If so, you've lasted the longest. Mostly they run off after about thirty seconds." She just shook her head and looked sad. "Actually, you just looked like you could use some company" In the interest of saving paper, I'll cut to the chase. We were talking for awhile and she kept getting closer and closer to me. This really freaked me out, because, for all my bluster, I had absolutely zero experience to back it up with. i had surely never kissed a girl, and it was really beginning to look like this one had every intention of doing just that. So, I'm shaking like a leaf, with a cold sweat trickling down my back. Finally, she gets right up close to my face, pushes my hair out of my eyes, and says "Why are you shaking, Rafe?" my answer? Drumroll please… "I had a chill" I was in a state of complete panic when she ducked her head and kissed me softly. It feels like something pops in my head, and all of a sudden, she leaps back with her hand over her mouth and looks scared and horrified. I stupidly try to take her hand while stuttering "w-whats wrong? What happened?" As soon as my fingers close over hers, she yelps and scrambles away from me. "what --did I do?" I asked. She looks down at her hand and I follow her gaze. There were angry red welts where my fingers had touched hers. She touched one hand gingerly to her lips, then looked at me, all big eyes and betrayal, and whispers "You burned me." Then she ran off.