I know the prologue is a bit confusing. All will be explained in good time. Just think of it as a sort of dream thing. Not very specific.
Chapter One:
‘Time to wake up, children!’
The wake-up song started to play. I refused to submit to it; refused to open my eyes. I felt Fred nudge me and heard him trying to convince me to stop resisting, to actually listen for once.
It was all part of the routine.
‘No, Fred,’ I said. ‘You know I have my own schedule.’
‘Jimmy, please,’ he begged. ‘Ms. Maley is coming.’
Ms. Maley was the wake-up patron. Every morning at six-thirty sharp, she would say in her falsely cheerful voice: ‘Time to wake up, children!’ Then she would play the song.
The song. Everyone had to listen to the song. It was wired in their brains. Like robots. The song, along with Ms. Maley’s voice. Every morning at six-thirty, something in their brains would expect to hear her voice, followed by the song. Then their eyes would open, and they were forced to get up. Forced to obey.
Nobody minded it, of course. Because this was a “school” for the different kids, the difficult kids. The kids with problems. Problems fitting in, or problems standing out. Bullies and victims alike. The most athletic kid had a bully problem. The least athletic kid had a communication problem. Everyone here had a problem. Fred had a problem: anger management. Nancy, the prettiest girl here according to a lot of people, had a problem: she was colour-blind.
Ordinary problems that could be solved anywhere. Some people didn’t understand why they had to make a school for this sort of thing. Colour-blindness couldn’t be cured. Putting a shy kid in a school with lots of people of people wouldn’t help anything. Why even bother? Why did they even do this sort of thing?
Maybe they had special programs. Yes, maybe that was it. It was a special school, a school for kids with disabilities. But then, why so wide a range of kids?
Many people wonder that, but few end up with answers. All they end up with is a perfect kid, at the end of their school year. There are many questions asked, and as I just said, few answers. All the kids come out perfect at the end of the year, that’s all they know.
All the kids except for me.
I was unique. Special. But I’ll discuss that later. Now I could tell you what they did to kids here; how they all ended up perfect in the end.
When the student is first transferred to this school, The Special Program Learning Association of Telsea (or SPLAT for short) he/she would go to a lab.
In the lab they would be given “water” or another drink that would put them to sleep. Then the staff would start hacking, start wiring the commands into their brains: Wake up at six-thirty. Eat breakfast at six forty-five. Take a shower at seven o’clock, and so on. The kid’s brain willingly accepts those terms, thinking of them as part of the kid’s own thoughts. That’s why nobody minds doing everything at exactly the same time. Nobody minds obeying.
After that, they inject a liquid which makes the kid’s problem, whatever it is, die down. For the one with mental uncertainties, they simply sedate that part of the kid’s brain. However, it does take a few shots.
Unfortunately, a new shot cannot be given before a four-month period. This is why we have shots every four months: at the beginning of the year, in the middle, and at the end. Simple.
Problems that are diseases, like colour-blindness, take around two to three shots till they go away completely. That’s why Nancy is still colour-blind.
I am the one and only exception. The one and only one which they could not cure. I was taken here a few years ago. I had no parents that I knew of. I remember running on the streets, searching for food, my whole life. Disguised, of course.
They inject in me monthly, trying to find a cure. They already had a sample of my DNA and they were trying to change it to make me like them. To make me human.
I was no human. I was an alien. Literally. I was short, about four feet tall. I looked like a cartoon character. I had a sphere for a head with no hair, or ears. All I had were two huge black eyes around an inch or so wide and three or four inches from top to bottom. They were in the exact middle of my face. I had no mouth, ears, or nose, yet I could still smell and hear. I communicated telepathically.
A hole would appear below my eyes when I ate. It was some sort of mouth. I had no teeth or tongue. The food would just crumple when I ate it, even the hardest of foods, as long as it was food. I couldn’t eat rocks, unfortunately. Which proved I could starve.
Imagine a neck for my head. Then imagine a sort of oval for my body, except in 3-D. Then picture slightly flat cylinders for legs, with two ovals for feet. Now to my arms. My arms are OK, except that I don’t have elbows when I lay them flat. No muscles for me anywhere, too. My hands have three fingers and a thumb.
If you imagined me right, you should have a character that looks straight out of a cartoon. If I stood stalk-still, you would think me a drawing, or a sculpture of this character that looks awfully like Bone. Ah yes, that reminds me. My skin. My skin is paper-white. Snow-white. Pure, blank, white.
Oh, that and I don’t wear clothes. I don’t need them. I’m a bit like an animal, I think.
I know karate. Or some form of martial arts. I’m thirteen and my name’s Jimmy. That’s about it. The strange thing with my brain is that it rejected the commands. I’m the only kid in this entire building who’s free.
Mentally free.
Gender:
Points: 1040
Reviews: 2