I still have the newspaper clipping. It's a picture of me the first day of my existence, at least, it's the first day I remember. That was three years ago, when a photographer snapped the photo of me walking weirdly around the scene of a deadly car accident. My pale skin shone brightly against the wreckage as my blonde, almost white, hair hung limply past my shoulders. Unlike the people inside the vehicles, I was uninjured.