The mask. They always go for the mask.
Just because i'm different doesn't make me devil spawn.

Read on to find out...


2. Midnight

They had seen me. Clear as day they had seen my face. Seen me for the monster I am. 
I slipped into a back alley where no one could see me and removed my porcelain white mask that covered the left side of my face. I let out a sigh. Of relief? Of freedom? As I touched my twisted and deformed flesh that was my face. The lack of eyebrow and puffy lip also made me look hideous. I continued smoothing over the contours up my face until I came to the exposed part of my skull. I had a full head of hair other than that. My brunette hair fell shoulder length and was more often than not tied back. I pushed my hood down and leant back against the alley wall. I needed to get away from my home. I needed to get as far away as possible. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and replaced my mask and hood. Slipping back into the shadows. It wasn't hard to disappear as I was wearing complete black except for my mask. 
I yawned. It had to be gone midnight by now and I needed to sleep no matter how hard I fought it was becoming more and more increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open and I knew it was going to be dangerous roaming the streets of Paris alone at night. There had to be some kind of abandoned house near the edge of the city.
The streets were long and dimly lit but I didn't mind. The less light the better. As I ventured on I passed several homeless sleeping rough. I was one of them. I needed to atleast find shelter for if I was exposed like them I would be killed. 
I came to an abrupt halt. There stood in front of me was a crumbling building. To anyone else it would have been a hazard, a wreck. No one would have gone anywhere near it. It showed.
The windows were boarded up but the door wasn't. I tried the handel. Who was I kidding? It wasn't going to be that easy. I circled the perimeter looking for an easy target. There was a back door. I pushed at it and it rattled. I took a step back and barged the door with my shoulder. 
"Shit." I cursed. It didn't open. I rubbed my sore arm and did it again. I was determine. This time I barged at it a bit harder and fell as the door opened. I stood and brushed myself off. No harm done. 
I glanced about in the darkness. I appeared to be in a kitchen. There was a grimy sink and rusting pipes. There were some old curtains hung over the borded windows and a musky smell flooded my nostrils.  
I creeped around trying to keep quiet. The kitchen led on to a living space. There was a rug on the wooden floorboard and a sofa against a side wall. There was a fire place and logs against the side of the chimney. From out of the room there was a little porch. The front door stood tall and locked. Opposite was a staircase. It had missing steps and looked for to unstable to go up. Behind the staircase was another large room. A library. Books from floor to ceiling and a large mahogany desk. Upon it was drawing and music. I gasped picking up the sheets and flicking through. I slumped down on a velvet green armchair. The music was exquisite. As was the art. It seemed so familiar. My attention was captured by the beautiful grand piano that stood in the centre of the room. It's ivory keys glistening and looking extremely well looked after. It seemed out of place here. I taped a key. It was tuned! How badly I wanted to play. 
I took my bow and satchel and placed them down on the desk then I sat at the piano. My fingers tracing the keys. I sighed and thought of my music I left behind. They were probably destroyed by now. I took a deep breath and started playing. The song was rather sad and depressing but that is often how I ended up writing music. It came from emotions. The music flowing from my head to my fingertips and over the piano. This was kept my heart beating.  
I finished playing and closed the piano lid. I was tired and hungry. I took my satchel and pulled out a packet of dried fruit. This was going to have to do for now. I took out a black cloak and draped it over myself back in the green chair. 
There was something so familiar about this house and yet it was just an empty and abandoned house. If no one found me, I would stay here a while. 
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