[ WP ] Each village has a designated `` scapegoat '' that everyone takes their issues out on . Write about the life of this person .

They were all born with powers. Some were healers. Others spoke with the dead. 
 
 Some, like Juliet, were *Scapegoats. * 
 
 -- - 
 
 They never touched her, not like some of the others. She was protected by her father, the only real kindness she ever recieved. *She is not to be touched. * That went both ways. It kept the men from making her even smaller, locking her in a box of her own body. But it made sure she never knew a real touch, never thought herself a real woman. 
 
 She was the trash can of their emotions. She was an *empath. * She took their emotions, let them roll and riot through her blood, her tears and anger streaming down her face. She would shout and scream and curl into a half moon against the sky of her carpet. 
 
 She melted with every lost love, died with every death. She saw the flashes of their hurt, like fire just outside her window. She was misted and thundered and quaked with the shattering power of their hatred. 
 
 Sometimes, she took the memories from them. She would dream them through the night, until she vomited green light into her hands and buried it into the garden of her subconcious. 
 
 *Last night, last night... * 
 
 Juliet woke with the words aching between her legs. She could feel *his hands on her* ripping through her skin *deep into the memory that was no more. * There was no face, just hands and lips and the hard, pounding... 
 
 At her door. 
 
 Bleary eyes turned towards the black hallway. She was given weeks between meetings, unless there was an extraordinary pain. 
 
 She drew herself up, pulling on her yellow dress. She wore bright colors to remind her of other worlds, the flowers she had not seen in ages. 
 
 `` Yes,'' she said, opening the door. All she ever said was yes. 
 
 Her father stood in the door, his suit pressed against his skin like soft plastic. He wore his powers like glass. He was a powerful man, a military leader, one of the strongest men to come out of Savannah Military School in almost fifty years. His dark skin was pulled tight against spiked bones. His force field shimmered bright pink in the dull hallway. 
 
 `` We need to speak,'' Luc said. 
 
 Juliet let her eyes roam across his face. He had never come to use her services, had never turned her into a pit for his dispair. Tonight it seemed different. He looked haunted. 
 
 `` Your mother is gone.'' 
 

