Snow fluttered lightly toward the frozen ground. A young girl perhaps no older than fourteen, sat at the stone fountain staring at her reflection in the newly formed ice. She possessed all the features of her mother: long, flowing white hair, mesmerizing green eyes, a cute button nose, a small chin, and thin pink lips; the only feature she wished to be rid of resided between her legs. She goes by the name: Candace. Just a few weeks earlier, the mayor of the small village ordered the fountain to stop flowing. The fluffy, frozen flakes danced across her equally white hair and pale skin. Her jacket that she clutched onto tightly stopped below her knees, her stockings protected the rest of her legs from the cold elements.
Something struck her forehead, something not new to her. The crimson river flowed down her white brow. After two weeks, she stopped running. After three weeks of being new to the village, she stopped dodging. The agonizing wait seized when the other rocks fell on her like hail.
Kids charged her from all directions. A fat, chubby kid—their leader—grabbed hold of her hair to let his minions beat the small girl. He watched in delight as his prey flopped on the ground like a fish out of water. He kept a firm grasp on her gills making her gasp for air. He now became the keeper of her fragile life.
“Beat the freak! Beat the freak!” the hellions chanted.
She prayed to the Gods, praying that they would kill her now to end her suffering. Alas, the Gods failed to hear her pleas. Tears streamed from her eyes, not from the pain—she could bear that—but because the Gods had forsaken her again. To die was her only wish.
“Get away from her!” Alexia demanded.
The children turned to see the auburn haired girl across the courtyard. Rage burned in her hazel eyes. Behind her back, she held the handle of the broom, the head of the weapon long since discarded.
“I won’t tell you punks again!” she warned.
A second of hesitation and confusion spread through their ranks.
“Get her!” the husky kid ordered and the battle began.

Alexia quietly hummed as she swept the back porch. “Dust, dust, be gone! Dust, dust, be gone!” she sang in her mind to her own tune. She began thinking about how she had matured physically and mentally over the past two years. Her thoughts were interrupted by feet running toward her. Looking up she saw her friend Sora.
“Hey!” the rusty haired girl chimed, “Jack plans on beating up that freak Candace this morning! Come on!” When she noticed Alexia did not follow, Sora turned around and asked, “Aren’t you coming?”
“No.” Alexia replied sternly.
“C’mon, it’s fun! Besides, everyone is doing it.”
“Well, I’m not and that’s it.” She leaned on the broom. “Don’t you think twelve kids beating up one kid is unfair? I do. Would you like all those kids beating you up for no good reason?”
“No…” Sora hung her head down in shame.