A girls red notebook compelation 2025 version by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

Origin of a demigod

I was born an orphan. Yes, I know what you are going to say but that’s my story. In this world you are considered useless if you do not possess a magic score higher than 99. If you are not 100 or above, you are tossed out in the woods as garbage but the person who gave me birth, cursed me by not killing me.

My child years were hell. The orphanage that took me in had to, by the countries law, raise any child until their tenth birthday. They took me in but then found the note that only said “no magic. Birth reading 000/999” They had to keep me.

The matron was the one that named me a demon and treated me as one.

The matron made it a known that I was a triple zero to the staff and the children. So, I was considered a problem child, even though I really only followed the other’s lead. When they got in trouble, they would point to me and say that I made them do it.

I would take the beating but I would not give the matron the satisfaction of hearing me scream. All I thought was I will pay them back. The other children yes but the matron took great pleasure beating on me. I won’t forget,

Once I was ten, they summarily put me out saying that, before they slammed the door, I was told to never come back. I found myself facing the outside of the closed front door holding my meager possession and a half of a loaf of stale bread.

Learning how to fend for yourself was not easy. I took to the woods and left people behind. I had reached out for help but found myself running from those who would, shall I infer, use me for their sick nature.

My life in the woods turned out to be a lot easier than in the orphanage. Now I gave the beatings so to speak.

I found that I had an inordinate ability to be able to find both food and shelter.

By chance, within a few days of entering the forest, I found a cave that had a large cavern after a small tunnel that was dug. In the cavern was a cabin of sorts that has been unused for quite a few years.

I knew it was unused because, when I opened the door, there sitting in a chair at the table was the skeleton of it’s former owner. A now evaporated bottle of booze in front of him.

Evicting the former owner, I now looked at what I had inherited. Some dry and canned goods that still looked good. The biggest thing was traps and a journal that the person kept.

He had recorded where the best places to trap were, where the wild vegetables were and what they looked like. Evidently, the man was a decent artist. I was able to recognize what he had drawn.

I just called it luck when I went out after setting my traps and found them full of game. For some reason, I had a dream about using a sling, even though I had never even herd of it. Making the sling I saw in that dream, I was able to use it right away. I now had birds for my meals.

The first time I was confronted by a mountain lion, I was not really scared. Well just a little but I imagined that it was the matron. I now have a cape I made from it.

From his book, I learned how to tan hides. There was a country store that I found that would buy my hides. Now that I had money, I could buy some new pants and shirts you can only patch things for so long. It feels good not to have that man’s left over clothes.

With the money I started a garden of sorts. That way I was not entirely dependent on foraging.

It has been three years since I was thrown out by that bitch. I will pay her back someday but my day to day existence consumed my daytime hours. My home has long since had a plug constructed to hide the entrance. I have had a few people shelter from the weather in the cave but my home has never been discovered.

With the luck I seem to have, it was a shock when I was discovered while I was hunting my favorite hide, mountain lion.

I was eighteen when I had killed another mountain lion. I get good money because my pelts are of an excellent quality that the merchant never haggles with me. He pays me a good price. On the last trip, I failed to notice the attention I was getting.

One or more occasions of late, I have heard comments about me being beautiful. I really did not concern myself about them. I should have because the one that followed had nefarious intensions.

He was a brut of a man who saw an opportunity to best a poor female in the forest. Some fun then a kill to hide the crime. This turned out to be another lucky day for me, unlucky for him.

Little did he realize or even thought, I get the good money for the lion pelts because I do not trap the animal. That would ruin areas. The best pelts are taken by force. Whether I am surprised or surprise the lion I automatically go for the belly. I have learned how to, in an instant, pull my knife and stab.

The man was sneaking up on me but he was not great at it. I fain an ankle twist. That is when he tried to get me. He was obsessed, so he did not see me pulling my knife from its place on my calf.

The shock registering on his face said it all. It was the realization that he was now spilling his bowels on to the ground and the knife had now cut through to his heart. As I rolled out of the way, he grasped at his intestines as if he could put them back. He stumbled a step or two then fell dead on the forest floor.

Let’s just say that is one tanned hide that I won’t be selling. It hangs over the old skeleton that I first found. The remainder of that man, wild animals have to eat.

I’m a mean daughter of a bitch. No, that isn’t a typo. My name is April Monday. Why the name April Monday you ask? That is because that the month and day I was taken in by the orphanage. That bitch named all of us useless by the month and day. Others got regular names.

Life is a hard task master and one has to harden one’s self to that fact. I had no remorse for that man. No bothered conscience on killing him. He was a wild animal. Me or him.

As I have said, I’m just lucky, I guess but why does my life suck. The matron. She set this life in motion. Why didn’t she take me out into the woods as a baby and leave me there. I’ll hang her hide right next to his. Revenge.

The next few years have not been kind to me. Yes I still had game and vegetables but the world was creeping in. My home was deep in the woods, but the cleared areas that people make for their farms are getting closer.

The spring that I turned twenty one was the hardest. My home, my wonderful home. I came back from a hunt. I now had to go further out away from the farm that was a few miles away. It usually takes a day for me to catch enough meat for a couple of good meals and the remainder I dry.

When I got to the cave, much to my shock, the cavern had collapsed completely. All my possessions, gone. My safe haven from the world, gone. With my life being shit on from birth, I thought that at least I have my home. Now I’m homeless. I know this area, there are no more places like this. Why couldn’t this have happened when I was in there, asleep?

This is the one last thing that I can take. I scream in anguish and curse the gods for this shitty life I had. I say had because I now am tired of this life of being a zero. I have one thing left to do.

She cleaned the deer that she had caught. Ate good, smoked enough for the few weeks that it would take to get back to that orphanage. Then I set out.

The nights were cool but not cold, April was used to it but it was wearing her down. Life wore her down. She trudged on.

Now just days away from her goal, she camped for the night. She laid down but she really did not like to sleep. Sleep meant those dreams. They were cold, rotten, hurtful dreams and they were constant. She relived every moment of her life. Why did she remember everything?

I have a task to complete. The timing is sweet and appropriate. It’s spring which means it should be my birth month, April.