The rough wood presses up against her cheek. Her auburn hair falls into her eyes, obscuring her view. She wonders if the children playing in the forest can see her, as she can see them. Laughter shrieks through the trees, bare feet pound the forest’s dirt floor.

A little girl runs past, stops, and looks back. She shrinks back into the safety of the trees, but the girl comes closer.

“Why are you hiding?” The question catches her off guard. No one ever asks why she hides. She clutches her dirt streaked brown dress, worn from much wear. Her eyes are downcast, looking at her bare toes with feigned interest.

The other girl stands her ground. “Want to play?”

A quick shake of the head conveys the message. But while she shook her head, she wonders, why not? Deep down, she knows. She knows that she can never be one of these children. She’s too different. She can never belong.

The girl comes closer. “What’s your name?” she asked softly, taking her hand and subtly leading her out of the trees.

“Leila.”