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Mama used to tell me I was special when I was younger. I remember I used to kneel in front of her and she would braid my hair with daisies and cornflowers. She told me that, if I didn't fidget, the wood nymphs would leave gifts for me if I showed them how much I appreciate their hard work. Immediately, I would do my best not to fidget so I could look pretty. Mama used to tell me I was a special little flower and the wood nymphs would bless me. I always believed she was right, she taught me the gifts were what we could grow around us. A blessing that the nymphs gave to only those who respected their haven.

I didn't know what it was that made me as special as Mama said then, but I knew it was there and I loved it. Our town wasn't very big, but we didn't go very often so I knew no one. The people knew us though. Because we lived in the woods, they would whisper and avoid us, but their children were mean out loud. They called me a dirty wood-child and would push me around. One day, I had enough. Why was everyone so mean to my mama and I? I got angry and my hands sprouted blue flames. I remember the scared look in their eyes, their cries for their own mothers. I felt powerful, like I could do anything.

"The wood-child has the Gift! Witch! You've doomed yourself!" One yelled as they ran away.

I turned around to face my mother, smiling, expecting her to praise me for protecting our family. But when I looked up, I realized that what I saw was the most heartbroken expression. Mama grabbed my arm we walked back home and for the first time, I saw my mama cry.

Mama kept me inside for days after that, I wasn't to be outside. Mama would peak out the windows, wringing her hands. There were days that people would pound on our door, she made me hide with her in the bedroom until they went away. Some nights I would get up for water and mama would be sitting at the table, sobbing quietly.

The day Mama finally let me go outside to play, two men arrived at our home. One was older with a long gray beard and unlike all the other old men I had seen in my town, he wasn't hunched over and riddled with old war scars. The old man was tall, wearing robes the colors of amethyst and gold. The other man was younger with five o'clock shadow, his hair was brown and long. He had his hair half up with a bun. His robes were the color of periwinkle and silver.

I ran inside and told Mama, expecting to be hid in the bedroom again. But she went to the door and let the men inside. She handed bags that I hadn't seen before to the younger man and he walked back out to the horses. Mama knelt and hugged me tightly, sobbing. I remember inhaling her scent of grass and rosewater, clinging onto her.

"My special flower, please don't forget that I love you. These men will help you with your... Gift. I'm sorry." she cried.

The older man picked me up and carried me away and onto a white stallion, whiter than I've ever seen a horse. The farther I got from my mother and the closer I got to the horse, dread filled my very being.

"Mama!" I yelled, finally crying. The men and I rode off, leaving my crying mama and my home. The only love I had ever known, all gone in a moment.

At the age of five, I learned what everyone did to the Gifted children. They took them to a huge manor in the country of Whitebridge. There were many children from ages three to as old as thirteen. I saw many of them running around the front of the manor, playing what looked to be a game of tag. They would tag each other with whatever they conjured. I saw a boy tag a younger girl who was hiding behind a tree with a bird he summoned. The little girl shrieked in delight at the game and started chasing the other kids.

It was surreal to me, seeing all of these children who were just like me, welcomed and happy. When I look back, I don't remember ever seeing other Gifted children in my town; or adults for that matter. The children always spread rumors that when the men came, they took you away to be fed to the swamp people.

The elder, whose name was Jacob Long, stopped the horse and climbed off. He looked up at me and brushed hair out of my eyes. "My child, listen to me closely. You are more than your Gift. You are going to be so important. Your mother is going to be so proud of you and you will show the whole world that you, Matilda of the East, are a powerful witch."

He picked me up off the horse. The feeling was overwhelming. Kids started to notice I was there, staring at me curiously. The younger man, Gabriel Hill, rested his hand on my head. Taking that as a signal, one by one, the children approached me. They welcomed me, they offered to play with me.

Ever since then, I felt that being there and being with all the children was my purpose. To be one with the Gift and controlling it was my destiny, I belonged there. Though the pain in my heart still throbbed from missing my mother, I knew I had to be there. I thought that if I worked hard to control my powers, I would get to be with Mama again. As the large wooden doors of the manor opened, and with the men who would be my teachers behind me, I felt at home.