People already don't call me different or weird. I like that. Maybe I'll stay here. But who knows? I follow the wind. It tells me what to do. And right now, the wind is still. Telling me to stay, that there is no breeze for me to drift in.

I'm not normal. I'm a freak. Different. Strange. Weird. That's what they said, anyway. I'm just me. The same old Jazdin. Or Jazzy by my friends. But, I was told about this place. Told that I'd fit in here.