Witches Eyes

Lucy Hamilton was never ordinary. She's about to find out why


1. Chapter 1.


        “Don’t play with the girl with the witches eyes.” I’ve heard it a thousand times. When I was little, I’d spend my days alone in my room, playing with the cats and watching the fish twist and dive to the depths of their tank. I lived in a small town, where anything remotely different or strange was petrifying to everyone else. That’s why I had no friends growing up. Not because I’m mean, or dismissive, but because the parents were so superficially afraid of me, the other children were forbidden to talk to me. As I got older, the phrase matured too. “Don’t get near the girl with the witches eyes.” “Don’t date the girl with the witches eyes.” Not that anybody would at this point. They’d grown up avoiding me, and in this town, nothing ever changed. Some good things resulted from growing up in absolute solitude.  No social life to distract me resulted in good grades, honours, scholars awards. So that was me. Lucy Hamilton, the freaky genius girl with the witches eyes. Mama told me I was special. I was different and in this town, different was good, refreshing. What with my brown hair, and bright turquoise eyes speckled with flakes of a lighter green. I was not the typical blonde hair, blue eyed girl our school seemed to have an unnecessarily large supply of. Refreshing to Mama, weird and terrifying to everyone else. “They’ll come ’round.” That was her go-to condolence. They never did.

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