In a small and simple village called Shelton, there lived a sixteen year old boy named Clover. Clover was somewhat special, and not in a good way. He was clumsy and unpurposely caused trouble wherever he went. Clover always had the idea that he was somehow burdened, cursed. When Clover was born, his mother and father gave him up for adoption. He always wondered why they abandoned him. The orphanage Clover lived in didn’t feel much like a home. Whenever he sought to make friends with the other children, something always happened to make them hate him.
One time, he gathered the courage to approach a pretty girl he had his eye on. But as he drew near her, he didn’t see the banana peel in front of him. He tripped and the next thing he knew, he was on top of the pretty girl, staring at her shocked eyes. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they weren’t outside, and if the ground wasn’t muddy, and if she wasn’t wearing a new dress. The girl shrieked at him to get off of her and fussed over her ruined dress. Clover desperately tried to apologize but all she did was yell at him.
“I don’t know what they were so scared of,” he muttered, remembering how the girls squealed in fright when they saw the little hamster, “You don’t even look dangerous.”