Interpretation

Dont really know what this is but it's been kinda stuck at the back of my mind for a while. As the title suggests, it's all about how people interpret various situations differently.

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1. The freak show

Everybody sees the world differently. Colours. A transparent sea is blue. A pale red dress is pink. Situations. A glass half empty to someone is half full to someone else. It's all about how we interpret the world that we live in. 7 billion people in the world, all with their own unique interpretation. But I'm ready to bet a pretty large sum of money that nobody sees the world quite like me. I'm pretty certain that if "normal" people saw what I can see, there would be worldwide panic. Although I guess don't really know what normal is, considering that I've been on the run most of my life. In the eyes of "normal" people I'm interpreted as mad.

 When I was a child I didn't speak. My first word was a lot more significant than most people's, simply because I didn't speak it until I was 8. When I did open my mouth I talked about my surroundings. I'm fascinated by colour and my favorite thing to do when i was little was to mix coloured paint and name them, one by one. To normal people, that isn't scary or threatening, simply a child learning the rainbow. But the thing is, I'm blind. According to my medical documents, I cannot see and I never will. But they're wrong. I can see and not only do I see their world, I see beyond it. I see their waves, paddling tentatively, and I also see my waves, the magnificent white dragons tumbling onto shore before turning and plunging back into the ocean. I feel their wind, but I also see it. What does wind look like, I hear you ask? Why, it is not wind. It is Wind, the almighty warrior that strides around the world, sweeping his glowing sword from side to side! I saw him every once in a while when I was little although I didn't know who he was for a until I was 12, shepherding clouds along and pushing down trees.

This is how I see the world, and it scared my family and the doctors they brought to "cure" my "illness" were scared too. I saw them through my multi - coloured eyes when I shouldn't have been able to. I was a medical mystery, an anomaly or in my family's eyes, a  freak show. So I left. I ran away and I haven't looked back for 5 years. I look down at the letter in my hand and all the memories catch up, causing tears to dribble down my scarred cheeks and soak into my jacket. I remember my father raising the knife to his 12-year-old daughter shouting "You're a freak, Marie! An unnatural beast that should never have happened!" I raise my hand to my cheek and feel the ugly, purple rope running from the corner of my right eye to my chin. He had cried afterwards, pleading and whimpering, blaming the drink but I knew that it would happen again. So with blood pouring down my face, I left.

I stole from anyone but it wasn't enough. I would have starved to death if Wind hadn't helped me. He came marching over the field I was in, blowing a gale and saw me curled into a ball, shivering and shaking. He walked closer to me, shaking the ground and even as he crouched down, he towered over me. He had a curly white beard and a kind but stern face with a rather long nose. His long white hair stood on the end, as he got struck by lightning often, and his pointy elvish ears had odd blue curly patterning on them. His silver armour was trimmed with gold and studded with diamonds, as was his shield and the hilt of his sword. His voice was high but strong and rather melodic and it was quite a surprise to hear it coming from his mouth.

"What are you doing out in the cold, little one?" I was too cold to answer but I wasn't afraid. I remembered him from my childhood and he didn't seem violent or dangerous. "Come on, little one. Let's get you warmed up so we can have a 2 way conversation, instead of me babbling away to myself." He swung his shield onto his back and pushed his sword into a ruby encrusted scabbard before picked me up gently and placing me on his shoulder. "Try not to fall of, I might not notice and it would probably hurt." I gripped the edge of one of the plates on his armour and he set of, striding through the countryside. After a while, he showed no sign of stopping so I leaned up against his neck and dozed off.

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