Prologue: Beware of your blood.

As far as I can remember, there only two of us, grandmother and I. I don't have a father, mother or any siblings. I did try to ask my grandmother about it. But she keeps evading my question. I know how much it upsetting her whenever I ask this very question. Once, one of our new neighbors greets us, asking about my parents. My grandmother standing beside me at that time. I just blurt saying both already passed away since I was born. Hoping this answer will stop our new neighbor from asking further. My grandmother keeps shutting her mouth but hides her face when I glanced her way. With that, I keep repeating the same answer, every time people ask me about my parents.

Now, I truly regret not to be more persistence towards my grandmother. At least if I stubborn enough to keep asking about my parent, I might have some clue why my red blood as so different from others.

That the very last word by my grandmother saying to me really disturbing me even now.

"Beware of your blood."