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The wind howled across the cliffs, carrying with it the bitter tang of the sea. Waves crashed violently against the rocks below, as if the ocean itself was angry at the world. In a small, crumbling cottage perched on the edge of the shore, eight-year-old Elena Anderson clutched her mother's frail hand, shivering against the cold.
Her father was gone, taken by the very waters she now feared. And now, her mother's body trembled with exhaustion, her breaths shallow and uneven. "Elena… listen to me," her mother whispered, her voice weak but urgent. "You must… hide. Humans… they will never understand… never be kind. You must survive… no matter what."
Elena nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I… I'll be brave, Mama. I promise."
But bravery felt like a hollow thing in her chest. That night, the storm raged on, and by morning, her mother had breathed her last. The small cottage was silent, except for the cries of gulls and the relentless roar of the sea. Alone, Elena's world had shattered completely.
For weeks, she wandered through alleys and abandoned buildings, hiding from villagers who might notice her pale skin, her strange, almost ethereal beauty. Hunger clawed at her belly, and fear became her constant companion. Every shadow seemed to hold a threat; every human face could bring harm.
It was on one cold morning, when the fog hung low over the cobblestone streets, that a kind voice broke through her despair.
"You shouldn't be out here alone, child."
Elena froze, eyes wide. From the mist emerged a woman, tall and warm, her expression gentle but firm. Her clothes were simple, her hands calloused, but there was a kindness in her gaze that made Elena's heart ache with hope she hadn't felt in months.
"My name is Angelina," the woman said softly. "I… I can help you."
Elena shook her head, suspicion sharp in her eyes. "No… no one can help me. I… I'm… I have to hide."
Angelina knelt, reaching out but not forcing her. "You've suffered enough. I have no children of my own. If you'll let me, I will take care of you. I'll keep you safe."
Something in the woman's voice stirred a memory deep inside Elena—a fleeting warmth she hadn't known since her mother's death. Tentatively, she let Angelina take her hand, and for the first time in months, she felt the fragile thread of hope.
And so, in the midst of a world that had been cruel and unkind, Elena found a shelter, a home, and a human who would treat her as her own. Though her life had been shaped by tragedy, the girl would learn, slowly, that even in darkness, a single light could guide her.