Prologue

G randma says that amidst a simple green meadow, I am the sole yellow flower—strong and radiating. She says that’s why I was named Flora.

She keeps saying that I am perfect the way I am and that my uniqueness makes me special. But to the others, I am just different.

I didn’t know it at first. To me, I just looked and was like all the other kids, but every time I tried to approach them and to play with them, they said the same things over and over again. Ever since I can remember, it’s always been like that.

Go away, Flora. You are weird, Flora. We don’t want to play with you, Flora. Uh, it’s Flora. Flora talked to us - run!

Flora Flora Flora

I just wish I were like the others. So they won't laugh at me or make jokes whenever they see me. I pretend not to hear their words, or see them when they stand together in their small groups and watch me. I don’t have friends, because no one likes me. When they see me, they whisper, calling me weird, and creepy; a dark witch. They say I’m crazy for talking to the things they can’t see.

I don’t know what I did to them to make them hate me so much. Grandma tells me I did nothing and there is nothing wrong with the way I am. That I just see things others don’t, and that it’s a gift. She calls them envious little brats.

I know Grandma would never lie to me, but I still want them to like me.

I want to belong. I want to play with them. I want to have friends.

I don’t tell Grandma what they keep saying. She always looks sad when I tell her, and I don’t want her to be sad. Grandma is the prettiest when she smiles. Sometimes when they are not making fun of me, they play, they run around and laugh with each other. I know they visit each other at home and have sleepovers.

I want that too, but no one ever invites me.

I’ve never been to a sleepover.

Because I’m not normal.

I’m not normal.

“What happened?” Grandma asks me while she kneels in front of me. She has made me sit on a chair, my feet dangling while I hug my little plush bunny.

“I fell,” I say.

Grandma carefully puts a patch on my scratch, smiling warmly at me. “Don’t worry my little sunshine, it’s going to heal fast.” She helps me down the chair and takes my hand. “Come, sweetie. I baked a fresh cake.”

I beam. “Strawberry cake?”

“Yes, your favorite. You can have some now, but we will visit the alpha family later for dinner.”

“Do I have to come too?” I ask.

“No, but why don’t you want to? The alpha’s son will be there. You could play with him,” she offers.

I play with the hem of my shirt, shifting around nervously. “He is scary,” I whisper.

“Prince Elden?” She chuckles. “I think he is a very polite boy.”

I scrunch my nose at her words, not sure how to reply. I’ve seen the prince only a very few times, but he always looks so angry.

“Grandma,” I say while I watch her putting a big piece of cake on a plate. “Why do the other kids not like me? They never play with me.”

Her eyes turn sad for a moment. “They just don’t know you,” she says quietly.

“They say I am weird and creepy and that I do weird things. But I see the light, Grandma, it’s alive. And it wants me to talk to it. You believe me, don’t you? You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Of course I believe you. You are special; my special little sunshine,” Grandma says. “The other children don’t understand you, but they will. And then, they will know how kind and smart and gentle you are.”

I keep watching her until I find the courage to ask what I always wanted to know. “Is this why Daddy left me? Because he was scared of me?”

Her gaze turns sad once again. “It’s not your fault, Flora. He left because he didn’t know how to handle the prophecy. He was scared.”

Grandma does that sometimes… talk about the prophecy. I don’t know what it means. It sounds like a fun little story, but Grandma never laughs when she mentions it. So, it has to be something bad.

“Daddy is scared of me?”

“No, of not being able to protect you and your mom.”

“Why is Mommy not here? Is she scared too?”

“Your mother can’t be here, but she-” she smiles warmly now. “She will always love you.”