How do you love a hater? Someone who seems to hate everything that comes at them? How do you love someone beautiful and wonderful when they don't think anything's that way? How do you do it?

Let me guess: Faith, right? Yeah, sure, keep believing it. I won't. You keep sitting around, having faith while I tell my story. After my story, though, you won't have as much faith. You'll put your head down and think and cry and say, "Oh, she was right all along." Because I am right.

Let's see, how do you start a story like mine? Not at the beginning, because then you'd understand too soon. No, let's start around 4th grade.

I was ten. It was May. It was close to summer vacation, so it was pleasantly warm. I loved to go out and run in the fields, because it was so open. A girl could dream out there, that she was a fairy, or a princess on the run. It was my daddy's property, and had been for quite some time. It was a Thursday, because I remember how my dad would be a little late on Thursdays, and because it was the first day I met him.

I was running through the field, pretending to be a princess. "Halt," I said. And then he spoke back.


I turned around, not expecting anyone to be there. He was taller than me.

"Because I am Princess Becca! I am ruler of this beautiful land!" I said in a regal voice. He looked at me with peculiar eyes. They were violet. A word I hadn't liked until I met him. Violet.

"Oh," was all he said.

"Would you like to play?" I asked kindly, knowing I'd been left out of a lot of games. I loved playing with other people.

"No! You're a baby!" he said, and walked off. I was confused. Didn't he want to play? I stood there, frozen for a minute. Then, I resumed my regal marching.

When I got home, my dad was waiting. He was a librarian and a farmer. So, we had all these animals and I read so many books. I was reading Dickens by that time. I found it intriguing, and I always found time for it. My daddy was impressed, so when I'd come home that evening, I didn't expect him to be staring at the wall behind me.

"Daddy?" I asked. He shook his head. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Our neighbors are being insistent, Becca. They want our land." My dad always had a way of talking to me like I was much older than I was.

"What? NO!" I yelled, glaring at the door behind me as if that boy was standing there.

"They have a child to tend to, love. They think he needs space to run," my father said. I shook my head this time.

"Nuh-uh! I met the boy, and he was mean. He was saying I was a baby for being a princess, and ran off without another word. He didn't want the land, nope!"

Dad was curious. "What did he look like, Becca Bear?"

"He had brownish black hair and was taller than me. His eyes violet and he had a scar right here," I pointed on Dad's cheek.

"Well, then, that's that. Now go on to bed," my father said, turning back to a book, his voice stern and fatherly. I studied him for a second. Then I went off to bed.

I suddenly wanted to know more about this boy.

A/N: This entire story is already written, I'm just putting out chapters now. I hope you like it! Please review!