February 9, 1284

Journal, you're my best friend. You're the only one who understands me and doesn't think I'm weird. Mommy talked to me today. She said that I'm an aasimar (I asked her how to spell it), which means that one of my great-great-great-great grandparents was an outsider. I think that means like an angel. She told me that she must have been an agatheon (I asked her how to spell that too), which are a group of people that were rewarded with being animals in the afterlife. I asked her if that meant I was a werewolf and she said no. She said that agatheons were only good people and that being an animal was like a reward. I think that's weird. Wouldn't they pick a better reward, like cake? But anyway, mommy says that I'm really, really special. She says that I'm like an owl, that I'm going to be wise and kind and really important. I don't understand why I'd be important just because I can draw pictures with my feet. And she says that what I have on my feet aren't toenails like normal people. She says they're talons like birds. It makes me really sad though because Clair has started treating me weird. I guess mommy told Clair's mommy because she told Clair and now Clair won't stop calling me Fairy because she says I'm magical. She keeps acting really impressed and asking to see my feet some more. Other kids are talking to me too more and it's really weird. I don't understand why everyone's acting so different. I'm the same person. That's why I like you, journal. You don't treat me different or act like I'm weird. I'm still the same person to you.