At age 5, Iris learned that yellow was her favourite colour. There was something comforting about it. It reminded her of the sun, daffodils and funnily enough ducks. She loved ducks. They where her favourite animal. Her father said she was odd but her mother though it was adorable.

At age 7, Iris learned that she somehow always knew what people were going to say before they said it. She knew that her neighbour was telling her mother that she was expecting a child so she blurted out a "congratulations" confusing the 2 adults who were talking about how hard work life was at the local primary school.

At age 9, Iris learned that she preferred to be on her own. Her mind could get overwhelmed pretty quickly no matter how many people were in the room. Her father didn't like that at all, he said that she was being stupid, her mother was there to defend her knowing her daughter wasn't normal.

At age 10, Iris learned that not everyone in the world was nice. One day coming home from school she knew her father was at work, she couldn't wait to have some quality time with her mother.

But as soon as she stepped foot into the house she knew something was wrong. It was quite. Her mind was quite. Her mind is never quite. Instant panic settled in.

"Mum!" She shouted. No response. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes assuming the worst. She ran upstairs straight to her parent room. She froze, her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes widen. There she was. On the floor, unmoving. A slight gash on the right side of her forehead and what it looked like to be some sort of stick next to her?

Iris was confused so she quickly melt down next to her. Her eyes were closed and she almost looked...peaceful. Head shaking in disbelief tears started to roll down Iris's cheeks as she discovered she couldn't hear a single though coming out of her mother's head.

Not

                                                                                              A

Single

                                                                                        One.

She cried, harder than she had ever cried before pleading her mother to open her eyes to say something, in her head or out loud. Then she heard it. Her eyes snapped around alert looking for the source. But all she heart was a small voice, almost a whisper at the back of her mind.

"I'm sorry, little one"

And her mind was quite once again....

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A/N
This is so shitty but it was the best I could do I hate writing prologues so much 😭. Anyway I really hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it up to now.

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