“What are you?” Denise asked peeking through the crack of the opened door. 

“What do you mean what am I? I’m Markey Neville, your friend.” 

“No. I saw you in that alley. You aren’t human. You were glowing, your eyes were like fire. My God you threw those men around like they were rag dolls. No human can do what you did. “ 

“Denise please, you’re confused.” If she could just convince Denise that she’d imagined the whole thing, that the trauma of the night had caused her to embellish what had really happened, then everything would fine. 

“Don’t you try that psychology crap with me, I know what I saw. Now leave me and Sandy alone. We don’t ever want to see you again.” Denise kicked at Markey’s foot removing it from between the door and wall. “Freak,” she mumbled before slamming the door. 

Tears streamed down Markey’s face as she left Denise’s apartment building. Freak, it always came down to that one word. It had to be the most hurtful word in the English dictionary. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the first time she heard it and it wouldn’t be the last. 

Markey returned home to find her small house that she rented covered in smashed eggs with the word “freak” spray-painted in huge black letters across the front. The sound of hushed whispers came from behind her as the neighborhood gathered across the street to stare. Lying on the ground in front of her door was a newspaper with a large black and white picture of her. Over it read, “Is this woman a phenomenon?” 

She stepped over it and unlocked her sticky, slimy door and proceeded inside. She knew what she had to do and without any hesitation she began packing. By the end of the day she had called her boss and quit, packed all important items and loaded her car. When nightfall came she slipped behind the wheel and began her search for her new home.