Wind whipped sadistically against broken wood shutters aged from years of abuse. Windows with an array of spider cracks allowed rain to slip through their defenses to corrode faded blue-grey walls. Curtains torn and soot covered danced maniacally with long pronounced provocative shadows in a room empty of everything, but a corporeal white form.

The white corporeal form stood in the middle of the room blankly staring off into the black abyss that was once a door of off white, waiting for someone to walk from within its darkened depths. Then the form smiled eerily, bringing attention to what used to be chubby pink tinted cheeks, a small nose, chocolate filled eyes bordered by long thick black lashes, and shoulder length curls of inky black.

Misted white glided a crossed the room, taking stall steps that never reached the creaky old floor boards covered in mildew, dirt and dust, all the way to the wide ceiling to mid-wall windows. Through all the cracks that ran all along them, milk chocolate watched the petite figure of a red-haired girl burst out from between two bushes blocking the dirt path from leading up to the steps of faded Victorian house.

Panicked bloodshot willow- green eyes searched desperately for an escape rout from the combined group of boys and girls chasing after the unfortunate ten-year-old girl of both Spanish and Irish descent. A little girl who rarely played at the park anymore because of her natural isolated nature and her ability to speak three different languages fluently, that she used quite frequently.

Her name was almost always spoken in a tone of hatred and scorn; a child should never be addressed in. Because all the adults despised her, all of the other children taunted her with words and phrases like, "You stupid little freak of a girl", "Monster child", and "I hope your bright red hair is set on fire, Calamaria".

That day hadn't been much different form previous days, except for the fact that little Calamaria had been caught talking to thin air in Spanish, when she was sitting under a large willow tree, during her lunch recess. It had caused the other children playing to go into fits of rage form her "freakishness" as they all liked to put it.

The children in their rage had decided to throw thick pavement chunks, large stones, and violently swing tree branches at her before chasing her into a wooded area at the very edge of the combined elementary and middle school playground.

Boys and girls formed small groups of four or five, and stalked her into and around the wooded area four hours, before slowly each group was found by adults and forced to go back to the school, where anxious parents waited for their return.

Only one group hadn't managed to be caught and surprisingly it had been the largest formed group with seven individuals composed of four boys and three girls, the leader being the oldest, most knowledgeable and hateful of the group. With all the those traits he had been able to allow his group to continue on their search for the "demon child" and to beat or kill the freakishness that lied within her, hideously deformed body, out.

So they followed her deeper and deeper into the ancient, archaic woods, that held dangerous creatures, poisonous plants, and many decayed skeletons of all kinds. Never once did they lose sight of her until she thrust herself dangerously through tall thick, poison green bushes covered in thorns that resembled barbed wire, clawing at her delicate pale skin.

Not a single of the seven of the children dared to follow her past the bushes that looked as if death had touched them moments after Calamaria's escape. Instead they became fearful of it and turned to run back home to inform the adults of the girl and her escape. But not one of those seven children realized the extent of danger they had put themselves into until they came face to face with a pack of skeleton thin ravenous wolves, that helped to push the red-haired child forward with the children's' screams of agonized pain.

Calamaria pushed her short legs faster at the sound of the screams that burst forth form her attackers mouths, second after passing through the deadly looking bushes. Her small strides rushing smoothly over a rock path that led up to a set of faded periwinkle wooded doors of a large old Victorian styled house. Short legs stepped delicately yet precisely up stairs, a cross the porch and through the doors, into the house foyer.

Dashing willow-green eyes connected with a hidden staircase covered in black balls of oozing black liquid after entering the foyer, before sprinting up them to gain more distance form whatever had taken out her enemies for her. At the top of the staircase to her right and down a small hallway, a rectangle of light caught her attention. It was there that she chose to use as a hiding place.

She took no notice of the scurrying shadows or the bleeding walls of grey. All her attention lay solely on what was beyond that section of white and when Calamaria passes through it she came in contact with a apparition of white.

Then all of a sudden her willow-green eyes aged way beyond her years and the words, "Hola. Hace mucho tiempo, Amanda." poured from her lips, before smiling to the ghost child in front of her. Calamaria then laughed softly and she hugged the other girl, the woods behind the two of them opening up to let creatures of all shapes and sizes out and onto the playground full of children and adults.