Beautiful Freaks Read Online Free PDF Page A

to do but scream. Where only moments ago Rowan had stood, full of warmth and vitality, there now stood a thing beautifully monstrous. I threw my head back in an attempt to get away from the sight in front of me, but with the tree behind me, there was nowhere to go.
    I could still see his face, but it was as if he were trapped under glass, or under the surface a frozen lake. Through the hard, shimmering layer – his eyes were closed as if he were still kissing me. His whole body had been turned into a sculpture carved from ice. His arm was outstretched and his hand still cupped my cheek. He looked like a classical statue, captured in the moment of ecstasy. I slid out from under him, tripping to the floor.
    My desperate screams echoed through the trees , travelled down into the village and cut through the music , causing the band to stop. Fear gripped me and suddenly I knew beyond any doubt that I should flee ; run far away before they found me.
    Where I left my scr eams, others joined them. They’d found Rowan and witnessed the harm I had done to him. The sound of chaos erupted as the word “witch” rang through the trees. I ran for hours, knowing that in the morning they would bring the dogs.
     
    *
    At some point I passed out. When I woke, it was in a str ange bed with the smell of wood smoke burning my nostr ils. I looked down at my muscle- tired body. My dress had been ripped to ribbons by the branches and my soft leather boots, clawed by the brambles.
    “They’re calling you a witch yer know .” I turned to face the voice. It belonged to an old man. He responded to the look of confusion on my face. “For what you did t’ that boy! ” He tutted as he shook his head. “ He’s dead yer know? They set fire to ‘im after they found ‘im ; b e lieved he’d been kissed by the D evil’s whore.” He paused as he added another log to the fire. “You don’t look the D evil’s whor e to me. I be thinking maybe yous as cursed as he.”
    The vision of the old man blurred through my tears.
    “Dead?” I managed to croak.
    “Aye , dead! And if you’ve got any sense at all you’ll pretend you died on that night too.”
    “I want to go home,” I whimpered.
    “Course you do, pet, b ut yer home is ‘ ere now – as long s you need it. Got to pull your weight tho’; I ain’t got no lady’s quarters.”
    Something must have shown on my face because he laughed, “Ain’t nothing to fear on that front, lovie. Accident with a shotgun made me perfectly safe t’ be in company of young ladies and not be a risk to their virtue.”
    I blushed, embarrassed that my fear had been so transparent.
     
    *
    I lived with the old man until enough seasons had passed to grow me into a woman , and for death to come and collect the old man’s life. I dug his grave, carving it out of the hard spring ground with his own shovel. With each blow of metal on earth, it brought back another sweet-sorrow memory of the gardener’s boy. And so it was on that cruel April day, I buried both of them – one in the cold, unwelcoming ground and the other in my dark and hardened heart. I wept for them each alike.
    The old man had no family and little money, but what he did have, I filled my purse with and set off for the city. Within weeks I’ d made a free and new life. I dared to be happy. I even dared to spend the summer falling in love with an artist who rented the rooms above mine . But when the autumn came and we finally kissed, the ice returned.
     
    *
    I spent my life travelling. Cursed to fall in love each spring , and to lose the man I loved on our first kis s. When I understood that the curse was inescapable, I withdrew my heart from the world ; let it turn cold and unloving.
    One morning I found myself standing on a London dockside. I don’t remember from where I had sailed. Much of the time , I hid my life away even from myself. There is only so much pain and guilt one heart can handle.
    I’d never meant to fall in love with the