This is an excerpt of a bigger story about a kid named Robert who is misunderstood in the world he lives in, even if that world involves people with special abilities.
Outside held a gloomy fate. It was pouring outside, and I heard police sirens blare in the background. The buildings by me were run-down and grotesque, paint peeling from worn brick walls. In the corner of an alleyway I saw a lumpy form on the ground that oddly resembled a body.
The fluorescent lights flickered as I climbed the stairs. I stopped at door 207, turned the key in the keyhole, and went inside.
This house was not as good as my last one, but it’s the one my aunt Lucy owned when she took me in, and I love her deeply for that. The place was dark as I creaked open the door. It was pretty late, so Lucy must have been asleep. I placed my bag down, took off my jacket, and placed it down as delicately as I could. All of a sudden the lights flickered to life, dousing me in brightness.
Aunt Lucy glared at me with her dark eyes. It turned out she hadn’t been sleeping at all, because she still had a neatly tied bun in the back of her head from work.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come,” she confirmed.
“Well, honey, I’m home!” I answered, which automatically got me a pillow chucked at my face.
“You’ve been drinking again.” Sheer disappointment anointed her face. “You’re sixteen years old! Why don’t you do normal sixteen-year-old things?”
“Because I’m not normal!” I snapped back.
This marking on my upper arm was nothing more than a symbol of a curse. I was just nine years old when this weird marking changed my life forever. It resembled a DNA strand, but closed into a circle, like something you would see in a kid’s science experiment. I didn’t have a clue why this symbol appeared and gave certain people abilities as a child, or why this even had to be the symbol to represent all of us abnorminials in the first place. Mine happened to be a light blue, which was unbearably fitting for my ability.
If I were normal I wouldn’t be living here now.
Aunt Lucy looked me directly in the eyes, her brown irises softening for a moment. She took my hand as I resisted the urge to squirm away.
“You’re right, you’re not. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
She didn’t have the mark of an abnorminial, she didn’t know the heartache it brings. But other abnorminials felt pride from their abilities, so I guess it was just me. There are some of us who use them all the time. Once I happened to pass by a construction site. They were going about their job and this abnorminial man used his power of super-strength to lift up a massive iron bar over to where he wanted. He treated the compacted metal as if it were a small twig he’d picked up off the ground.
There are other cases where people use it for fame. Kohl Nickelson thought he was a big shot because he happened to use his powers—laser eyes and teleportation—at the right place at the right time. Just another basic middle-schooler until one day we were on a school trip walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. We all stopped in our tracks when a helicopter hurtled toward us. One of the propellers was bent at an odd angle and losing altitude pretty rapidly. Most of us kids were screaming, but Kohl stood completely still. I watched as his eyes glowed red, slicing the copter in half. A handful of people fell out, but before they could plummet into the water they all appeared in front of us, safe from harm. One of the passengers rushed over to him, thanking him profusely for saving their lives. She turned out to be a reporter, and asked Kohl to tell his story on camera. Ever since then he has claimed himself a hero.
Power changes people. Funny thing is it seems to always be a negative.
But Aunt Lucy wouldn’t be able to comprehend my full resentment. My shoulders loosened up and I gave her the answer she wanted.
“No, I suppose not.”
That strict sneer turned into a loving smile, and she embraced me in a warm hug. She tensed and tilted her head to the side.
“Ugh, you smell like martinis, go to bed!”
She shoved me off and tossed another pillow my way. It missed me by a foot but I got the message. I picked the pillow up gently and placed it back on the couch.
In my room I left the lights turned off. When are you going to stop this? a voice called to me in my mind. I heaved out a sigh, running a hand through my hair. Is that even an option for me? I looked back at the door longingly. I was tempted to open it and at least wish my aunt a good night. But instead I threw myself in bed, and looked up at the ceiling until I finally dozed off.