Wherefore do you linger, my poisonous flower? I want to pick you up, to pluck you knowing very well the danger you possess, and to make you mine, body, mind, soul.
I was cursed, but to some people that meant I was special. Nobody knew why I was not affected by the pull of the wicked folk. However, just because I had this power, did not make me any less of a prey. Annoyingly, it made them even more fascinated, and it genuinely enticed them to control me or kill me. It was like I had a giant sign on my forehead saying, "Look, good quality."
That was if being scrawny and looking like a zombie made you good quality. Okay, not really a zombie, close to one. I haven't slept in three days. Why, you might ask? Because of the hunt, the bloody time of the month when fairies would try to kill me, enslave me, or both. Don't ask.
Normal girls went through a different time of the month but because of being malnourished, I could forget about that aspect of being normal.
It's hard to find a job and stick to one when magical beings attack the place that just happened to be your only source of income.
Usually, if they did not try to murder me I would ignore them or roll my eyes at the disaster. But, I guess I was partially at fault last time. I snapped. Have you ever seen a crazy cat lady maneuver a broom like a samurai and hit the neighborhood children? That was the closest I could compare. I didn't even do anything wrong, I just killed their hairstyle although I might have hit some royalty.