If, while reading this you start to suspect that you’re different, then you're not like them, you're more like us. If you ever feel an inkling in your veins, a nagging instinct that signifies that something about yourself isn’t entirely as it seems, it may be entirely too late. They will find you. They’ve found them all. Except us. In this broken society of Wuthering Hallow, they call us “Outliers.”