Saturday, October 6, 2012

I Tried


It was one of those days. Like sunny, perfect temperature, everything just peachy. Those days give me the heebee geebees. Normal people would be at the park with their families and friends, enjoy company and lovely sandwiches or something. I wouldn’t know either way, since my lack of family and friends.  But that was my fault, mostly. Yeah, I was forced, but it was my choice to live the way that lead me to leave them. It was good for them too.
I suppose I have things to explain now. You’re probably curious. I’m Alex. That’s my real name. My code name is Blake. I don’t get out much, especially on days like this. Why do you have a code name Blake? Is probably what you’re thinking. I’ll tell you: I’m a secret agent/spy/superhero. Well which one are you? is another good question. I’m all of them. I’m a national treasure.  


Chapter 1
                It all started when I was born. Blue eyes, and fire red hair. My mother died in labor, my father ran off and left me at the hospital. I was an orphan practically when I was born. They said my mother got to hold me once before she died. They told me I died in her arms.
                When I say “they” I’m referring to the people I grew up around. The only people who would know that kind of information. The OBGYN that delivered me thought I was too precious to be handed off to an orphanage. That and she had already made that mistake with one child.
                Ruth took care of me until I was about fourteen. I’m surprised she lasted that long. At around ten years old we both realized I was different. Well, probably actually two, but at ten that I was super abnormal. I learned how to read and write on a fifth grade level at around two and a half years. At three I had mastered speech, and just about every string instrument. I was a prodigy as far as they knew.
When I was ten I mastered super natural abilities. Ruth would have a conversation on the phone at the grocery store, I would be at home, and when she got back I could repeat every word to her. Then I started picking up things across the room with my mind. Ruth had already understood that my mind was way more developed than anyone else’s, but this was different. I could hear things a mile away, and remember exactly everything, and move things with my brain.
There was no explanation for this, unless we talked to my father.   It took three years to find him. He was found in a field in Wyoming. Over dose. I did not go to his funeral. I never looked at any of his pictures. I respect his wish that I would never see him, and he would never see me.  That’s the way it was supposed to be.
Now all I had to do was accept the fact I was different for no known reason. I was a living mystery. That’s when the hardships came. I was thirteen and going to school was difficult. I could hear every class room.  I had to control my powers, which was impossible. If I thought, “Gee, I need my pencil sharpened.” My brain would tell my pencil to move, and sharpen it, without me getting up. FYI, a floating pencil and an electric sharpener randomly going off is slightly eye catching to most people.  It’s also terribly difficult to concentrate when you hear everything. Everything. That’s disgusting at times. Think about all those terrible things you hear and all at once. I knew I had to master this terrible power when I heard a conversation from another state.
I didn’t mean to make my pencil levitate. I didn’t mean to hear that conversation.  My plan to control them was to find what thoughts I could think, and thoughts I couldn’t think. Like, if I thought “I need my pencil sharpened, but not now,” my pencil would stay on the table, but if I thought, “My pencil needs sharpening,”  it would  get up and do it itself.
Now, on the whole “I-hear-everything-within-a-10,000-mile-radius” mind, uh, issue…well, that wasn’t as easy to master as the others. My overactive mind took only maybe six months, but this took 2 years.  It started being hard and just got harder. I had to learn to tune in and out.  That was hard. I tried to focus on one conversation, whether it be between a banker and a client, or a fight between a couple. It didn’t matter what it was, I just tried to focus on it. I finally could tune in on one thing, and of course repeat it all to my mother without any errors.
By the time I was 14 I had almost completely mastered this insane “talent”. That’s when FBI found out about me.

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