Skys’ Scrapbook #

[Left page:]

Skys’ 1st Scrapbook Entry

Found this book in a broken place. Thought I’d maybe write stuff down. Like anyone gonna care what I seen or what I been. But got no one else to talk to,so I will talk to myself.

Don’t remember my name. Used to have one, I think. But no one called me it. Just other names. curse-child, bad blood, devil’s spawn. Was born in a place called Novosovia. Cold place, cold all the time. People was colder. I was born with pink hair. That was my first mistake in life. Lots of other kids got white haor. Said it was from something bad in the air. white is bad too, but Pink is worse. Said I was touched by a demon. Said Im not a kid, just a curse.

My parents… tried to keep me hid at first. But… they never looked at me, never talked to me. Kept me shut away like I was sick. Then, on my 8th birthday, they put me outside and never let me back in. I banged on the door, screamed, begged, but they didn’t open it. After a while, I just stopped knocking.

Don’t know what I felt then. Weren’t cold like outside cold. Emptier, like when you don’t eat for days, but it’s in your chest. eating me up from inside. So I kept to myself, finding scraps, hidin’ from people who’d look at me like I was trash. I started thinking they was right.

I walked, kept walking, town to town, just me. Hoping one day I’d just disappear. Didn’t thinl anyone would care. Didn’t know what it felt like to have someone care.

[Piece of paper taped at the bottom of the page that reads: “Heaven of Hell?”]

[Right page:]

Then one day, there was nowhere else to go. I got to the sea, just watching the water, thinkin’ maybe it should walk into it. Hid on a big ship there, in a crate with boxes. Lived off crumbs, sometimes rats. Sometimes rats lived off me. Sometimes rats lived off me. Only thing I could see for weeks was the skys through a crack in the box. All I remember was the skys above me,- -watching me, like it was the only thing that didn’t look away. So when I got to the new world, I told them my name was Skys.

I ended up in a place called Ingleterra. They was in war with Novosovia and a place real far called Colombia. Ingleterra lost. Hard. Whole place looked like junk, streets all busted up, buildings falling down. People wore scars like they was born with ‘em, faces all twisted up. The world felt like it was broke. Then… I met them. The travellers.

They didn’t look at me like I was wrong or broken. Had a big fire going, laughing real loud at nothing. Singing songs. Like they wasn’t in the same world as me, not even close. Said they followed somethin’ called Velama. Said it was a way of life, or maybe more like a voice, one that came from deepinside. Said it told ‘em things, how to see what’s hidden, how to feel what others can’t They called it the spirit of freedom, like nothin’ could hold ‘em down.

And they let me sit by the fire with ‘em. Didn’t push me off or spit. Didn’t yell. Just let me be there. Feels… weird. Don’t got words for it. It’s like hot in my body, but it doesn’t hurt. Keeps me from being- [cuts off]

Don’t know if I’ll stay. I’m scared they’ll turn on me, like all the rest. But for now… maybe I got somewhere to be.

[Piece of paper taped at the bottom of the page that reads: 02 22 3 8]

made by Alec