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On March the third, at exactly 3 o’clock on a rainy afternoon, in room 302 of Saint Mary’s Hospital; a beautiful baby girl was born.

Kalina, her parents named her, silently came into this world with curly red locks, skin like porcelain, eyes as blue as the ocean, two arms and three thick and sturdy legs.

An odd number for any new born, but for her loving mother, she was perfect. And even though Kalina would be the subject of many medical journals in the years to come, she had a somewhat normal adolescents, all things considered.

The family moved into a small home by a lake in the Midwest. Quaint was what they were after, and it was as quaint as a painting in an antique shop.

In her youth, Kalina went to a special school. Something she always found quite strange, because her mother and father would make sure to always tell her that she was just a normal girl.

Kalina was quite inquisitive, quickly learning everything she could. She made few real friends, but had an affinity for all things fantasy nouvelle. In fact, too often or not her mother would find her sitting on the dock, book in hand, and legs swinging off the edge.

Suffice it to say, apart from the touch of childhood loneliness, Kalina was happy. But stories of happiness are usually always left on shelves. So it didn’t come as a surprise to her, when on a perfectly pretty autumn day, as she dipped her fifteen toes into the cool still water, with her eyes peeled into the pages of another world; Kalina heard the very unmistakable loud popping sounds she knew could only come from a gun.

And that; is where the sad story of the girl with three legs begins.