P r O l o G U e A:

"Mommy?" a little girl, with candy apple red hair and light blue eyes, asked the blood covered body next to her. Her mother lifted her face from the pool of blood to glare at her daughter, the same blue eyes filled with disgust and pure disdain. She slid closer to her daughter and lifted her hand to the six year old's neck. She gripped as hard as her battered body could handle.

"Why did you hurt me, Emma?" She gripped harder, digging her skinny fingers into the child's neck.

"No," the girl struggled to speak. "I didn't mean to . . . . it just happened. I thought it and then it happened . . . . it wasn't my fault . . ." The mother lowered her hand and pushed herself into a sitting position. She reeled back her fist and smashed it into her daughter's face. Emma fell to the ground grabbing her cheek. "Why, mommy?" She retreated crawling backwards. Her mother followed after her dragging her body slowly. Emma hit a large piece of rubble from the destroyed walls around them. Realizing her escape was impossible she gave up.

Her mother closed in and was about to hit her again. Emma closed her eyes and waited for the pain. A few seconds passed and she felt nothing. She heard a thunder of footsteps and loud indistinguishable shouts. She cautiously opened her eyes and saw her mother in handcuffs surrounded by armed men in black suits. Her mother let out a blood curdling scream. "Why are you taking me?! She's the monster! Not me! Not me!"

The man that had her handcuffs closed his eyes and his face distorted into a frown. He opened his eyes again, they looked worn and tired despite the light silvery color. "You call her the monster? That's pathetic. You hit your own daughter over a small accident?" He looked at the ground and his black hair fell over his face.

"Fuck you!" the girl's mother shouted then shrank back against herself. "She was trying to kill me. She's not normal. I knew something was wrong with her, I mean look at that blood colored hair. She is a demon." The woman shot a look at her daughter that would make even a grown man cringe. Emma did just that and started crying.

"I didn't mean to." She choked and wiped her tears, accidentally spreading her mom's blood on her face. Once she realized that she was covered in her mother's blood she screamed, then started crying again. "Am I a monster?" she asked looking down at her blood covered hands.

The man holding her mother's hands called for someone to take his place then went and crouched next to Emma. "No, you're not a monster. You're a Psychic. A powerful one at that. Your mother ignored our pleas for you to get proper care and restraint. You're not the monster. She is." The man wiped the blood off of Emma's pale, little face and picked her up. "You understand?" Emma helplessly nodded. "Welcome, Emma, to Awake."