by G. Bailey
“Like a tracker?” she asks, thinking about it. “Why don’t you just remove the rune name off your skin? It doesn’t give you powers like your others.”
“The problem is, I don’t even know what my rune name says, and have no clue how anyone else could know it. I won’t remove it, not until I know. I was born with it, and whether it’s a curse or not, it’s mine. It's the only potential answer I have to my past, and one day I will find out what it says,” I explain to her, and her eyes cloud over in sadness. I often forget what she was born with herself, and how she lost everything because of it.
“Could it be your family that knows? That send their people to kill you?” she asks.
“I don’t have any family, not other than you,” I reply quickly.
“I mean blood family. You had to have had a mother and father, and it would make sense they would know your rune name,” she says.
“I don’t get why the person hunting me doesn’t just come after me themself, but that’s not your problem,” I say. “Now let’s change the subject to something less depressing.”
“Like watching the new Catfish episodes?” she says, thankfully agreeing to the subject change, despite the sadness I still see in her eyes. I smile at the big, fake grin on her face. She is hooked on these shows, and I can’t say I don’t find them funny and addictive as well.
“Go on, then,” I say, smiling at her overly excited face as she grabs the remote.
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