Unique, a word that can be used as a compliment or used as an insult in disguise. The way they change the word “different” to “unique” trying to be as subtle as the sun is when it sets, quick and easy. But it impacts the same. How through the chattering, the laughing and the pointing lies the word “different”. How everyday when a child confides in another they soothe them by using the word “unique”. They say it as though it's a difference, as though it's better. I always had known from a young age that I was different. I saw things that others couldn't and had labels placed upon me, towering, waiting for the downfall, an opening, a time to seize the broken. But what happens to the broken once they’ve broken too much is unknown. Everyones different and breaks differently, ever since I was a child I had the ability to see people's pasts who I have physical contact with, and feel their emotions. Although I am able to see others pasts and sometimes their futures I’ve never met my parents. Whether they’re alive or dead, the day they left me at the orphanage was the day they died in my mind at least and that I wouldn't ever see them again after that. Or at least that was what I thought. My name is Lily, I'm nearly sixteen years old and my story begins at the dawn of morning on a warm spring day. At the doorstep of an orphanage. I was one year old and have no memory of that day but my caretaker Lisa for the time I was there remembers it crystal clear as though it was yesterday. She had told me that when she picked me up she knew I was special by my distinctive silver hair and my eyes. As how others called me a freak when my eyes would change colour, she instead told me that they were beautiful and that they made me who I am. As minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years, eventually at the age of four it was time for me to say goodbye to Lisa and find a family. Unfortunately the family I got wasn't anything like the family I longed for. Lisa had given me a gift of blue contacts to help me get along with others better. The house would always be quiet unless their blood related child George was picking on me as usual. George was three years older than me and just because he is their blood related child, as well as he is the heir to their rich business, he had thought that had given him the right to pick on me. He had also known that his parents had only adopted me to look good in the news. My “Mom” and “Dad” weren’t great people either. “Mom” would drown her sorrows of her life in her blood red wine, as “Dad” would cloud the room with his rich cuban cigars. My “Dad” is a very sexist man and believes that women should do all the work. But my so-called “Mom” thinks she is too good to go on her knees to do housework so it gets left to me. I rarely get to go outside as they hired a tutor to work with me so they wouldn’t feel embarrassed after giving the “Rockbelle name” as they say. And that they wouldn’t want a disgrace like me to “dirty the name”. It went like this for years on end until everything changed. I was stuck at home doing the usual house work, as the Rockbelle’s barged in with a clatter. “Change into this we are going out to la bonne nuit right away,” my “Mom” said. I did as I was told though since I will take any chance I can to get outside and see the world. I hurried up the shiny stairs, trying not to ruin my polishing job and entered the attic which was barley an excuse for a room.

As I raced up into my cramped I opened the large bag to find an amazing dress inside. I hold it high above me, looking into my stand up mirror. It glistens in the small light that comes from the attic window. It’s a shiny gold colour with one thick layer laid among the top. I pulled it on and immediately fell in love with the style. I put on my high heels and race down the stairs. As I reach the door and see them get into their limo, I suddenly remember what they had told me every time we were to go out. I have to take the bike or else I will dirty their limo. I race towards the bike, persistent to make it there on time. My gold sparkling high heels get locked into the gaps in the peddle as I race down the street. Gasping for the cold icy breath of the last snow fall around me. Shivering I finally make it to the restaurant. It’s fancy and seems uptight. As I approach the doors the guard stops me with his arm. “Not just anyone can get in here,” he tells me in a stern voice. But I can definitely also hear a hint of sympathy as he looks me up and down as I'm out of breath. I sigh, as I have gotten used to this and show him my ID that has my name and my given last name. He stares at the ID in disbelief as he looks back and forth between me and the card. “My apologies,“ he says slightly shocked. “No problem,” I respond with a smile as I head inside. Once I get inside I head straight for the washrooms. Passing through the hallways I see countless priceless pieces of art hung from the wall, all of which are abstract. Once I reach the doors, I turn the knob and enter the bathroom in which is probably more expensive than myself. I go towards the mirror and pull out my dull used looking tote bag. In which I grab my makeup and re-apply it. As soon as I am about to finish a young looking lady walks in with what appears to be her friends, as they don't look anything alike. The red haired one leans towards the girl dressed head to toe in black with pure white hair. She places her hand over her mouth and the other girls ear, although I can still hear them snickering while staring at me. As I try to walk out, the girl dressed in black approaches me and brushes her shoulder into mine with force. I stop and grab my shoulder as I can see some small things that have happened in her life and what is to happen in her future. She became rich through multiple divorces, I saw her as a child playing happily only to see her smile fade in other memories. And in the last one, well all that was visible was a shadow above water, as the pain of drowning and betrayal flowed through me. I shook it off and walked out the door as I know that the Hue’s were a very important supporter of Rockbelle Industries. I walk up to the table and take a seat next to George and an empty seat. Across from me at the table sits a tall lean man dressed in a tux with a red tie. His hair is brown with black streaks unlike mine which is silver from birth. His eyes are green from what I could see behind my blue contacts. And he has the tan that everyone wants. I gaze across the table as he has an uptight yet playful aura. Even though I’ve never met him he has something familiar about him. Suddenly he catches me gazing and pauses the conversation to introduce himself.

“Hi my name is Jackson Hue. Nice to meet you,” he says kindly although “Dad” gives me a glare only visible in the corner of my eye for interrupting him. “To you as well. My name is Lily,” I say rushed hoping that “Dad” wouldn't get mad later. He nods quickly smiling realizing my intentions and returns to his conversation. Soon later the sun has fallen and it is night fall. As everyone has finished eating. “Dad” seems pleased with the deal that he and the Hue’s family had enclosed. As we exit and enter outside it was pouring rain. Even so I follow through with the plan as usual. I follow them to the car and then once the guest leaves I then go and ride my bike. I do as expected but once I get to my bike I stare down at my seat in irritation. “Of course my bike seat has to be like a sponge,” I say while pushing my hands down on the seat watching the water pour out. Just as I am about to get onto my bike, I hear a horn blare nearby. Out steps a man in the distance with a towel in his hand. I look behind me thinking he is mistaken but he comes up to me. “It was Jackson Hue,” I think to myself surprised. I accept the towel nodding my head in thanks. “Here let me give you a ride” he says while nodding back in return. “I’m fine,” I tell him although my dress and hair has become soaked. “I insist,” he responds with a pushy but caring tone in his voice, smiling. “Thanks,” I say, giving in. The back seat to the limo opens automatically as I place myself down in one of the seats. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soft tone with a smile that compliments every part of his face. “I'm fine, thanks.” I say briefly, not used to interacting with others. He then gives me one quick last glance and moves up to the front seat while he talks just above a whisper to the driver. In the meantime I simply gaze at him, it's been quite a while since I've seen someone who appears to be my age. I continue to stare, envying how he has become  so successful in his life. How he was born into a good family that loves him, or do they. Whatever lies past the smile on his playful yet secretive face? The curiosity begins to eat me up inside. As I open my mouth to ask something, he turns around and catches me staring at him. “Enjoying what you see?” he says in a joking tone. My face turns bright red and heats up as I look away quickly towards the window. As I look outside the window I realized this is probably only the second time I’ve driven in a car. First time was getting picked up from the orphanage, although I was too young to clearly remember it back then. I gaze out the window seeing the rain race down the windows, staring as each tree seemed to fly past us, as though for once I was superior to the world around me. I continue to look outside the window until I notice in the glimpse of my eye Jackson staring at me. “What is it?” I ask confused. “You act as though you’ve never been in a car before,” he says with a smirk. Before my lips part to say something the driver calls out to tell us we have arrived. I look out and see “their” house. Disappointment swallows me whole. But what was I expecting? This is the place where I am forced to stay put each night and day. “Thanks for the ride!” I say while faking a smile. “Anytime,” he replies as he hands me his business card. “Call me if you need anything,” he adds.