As a child I never feared the hole.

I was the only one like this, all the other children feared it, they would talk about their nightmares of falling in or being chosen to go. I could never understand their fear, the hole felt right.

I have a vague memory of a dream, I remember my parents telling me not to go in, I didn't listen. I let the darkness it emitted envelope me, I was changing, my bones cracked and grew thicker, my skin darkened my legs lengthened. I could see better in the dark. I felt strong. I felt right. I woke up.

When I told my parents about my dream they looked scared. But I didn't care, I liked it, I wanted to be around it.

I think I always knew I was different from the others in my village, maybe that's why I never got along with the other children. I didn't have any friends ever. I didn't care much for my parents either. They where mildly entertaining, but they never caught my interest much like the hole did.