Rejecting His Special Mate

“Forty nine, ow! Fifty, ow!” I cried out, the sharp sting of the whip lashing across my back a familiar punishment. Punishment for what? Nothing. That good-for-nothing brat, Michelle, had lied to my adoptive parents, claiming I'd insulted her. As if I'd waste my breath on a piece of shit like her.
“There better not be a second time, or else the punishment will be worse,” Darlia, my adoptive mother, warned, her voice like sandpaper. I bit my tongue, nodding quickly, before scurrying away to my closet-sized room. Tears welled in my eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness. No, they were tears of happiness.
Maybe that’s why they call me a freak, a psycho, a weirdo. It doesn't bother me. It’s nice being different. That’s what makes one special. A knock, then Jon, my adopted brother, barged in. “Awe, are you crying?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet. I twirled a strand of my curly red hair, smiling. “And what if I am?”
