I was only four when I first used my powers, though my recollection of that day grew foggier every year, my parents were often quick to remind me of the fear and panic I had caused. That day, like most days in my fourth year of life, I was in my room. I was playing make-believe with my dolls, pretending they were exploring an unknown and uncharted land. Right before one of my dolls was to be cornered by a vicious, fire-breathing dragon, however, my mom came in and announced that it was time for dinner and I was to put away my toys. I had nodded, which made her leave, but in truth, I had no intention of going downstairs for dinner at all.
It had only taken a few minutes for her to realize I wasn't coming, this time she was much angrier. Once again I nodded my head, saying that I'll be down soon. She fell for it again, only to return another minute later.
"Young lady." She exclaimed. "If you do not come downstairs this instant, you will get a consequence." I nodded again, not even the dreaded "C" word able to pull me from my imagination.
"I wanna finish," I said, lifting up two of my dolls so my mom could see. "They are fighting a dragon!" My voice held so much wonder, but my mom wasn't having it.
"I said, come down right now! You can play again tomorrow!"
"No." I replied, bravery obviously getting the better of me.
She became angry with me, raising her voice and listing a number of privileges I was going to lose if I did not obey. I refused again, after all, I was only four. She immediately walked in and made a grab for my toys, she yanked them out of my hands and stared down at me triumphantly. Then she did what my young mind saw as unthinkable and ripped the head off one of my dolls.
"These are now trash." She exclaimed, silently dooming the rest of the dolls to the same fate.
I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, the untimely demise of my favourite toys causing a ripple of anger to wash over me. I stood up, my hands balled up into tiny fists at my side. My mom seemed interested, almost daring me to do something she can punish me for again. So I did the only thing I thought I could and started to scream. My whole body had begun to tremble, the little hairs on my arms standing on end. I stopped screaming to look down at myself, as I felt something surge through me. I had no idea what it was, but it spread through each part of my body like a fire through a dry field. It felt like electricity pulsing through my veins.
Suddenly, as though my body knew exactly what it was doing, I lifted my hand towards my dresser and it was immediately thrown against the wall. Crashing onto the floor with a loud bang, shattering into pieces. My mom's screams drew my attention back to her, she had dropped the dolls to put her hands over her mouth. The fear on her pale face was like a wave of cold water, dousing the flames that had sparked within me. The power leaked from my body, mingling with fear and confusion as dark spots started clouding my vision. I swayed, taking in the ghostly appearance of my mom as I fell to the floor, a strangled cry stuck in my throat.
I had awoken soon after that, still lying on the floor. I was about to cry out when I heard my parents talking right outside my room. They had closed the door, but I could still hear their conversation. Their words were fast and harsh, they cut through me even now. They were talking about leaving me at some home, where people like me were "dealt with properly." My mom was against this, though her concerns were less about me and more about what the neighbors might say. Finally, after long deliberation, they had agreed on the best course of action. I was to be homeschooled by someone who knew about my condition, until I was thirteen and could be sent to an appropriate institution. They could also hide my absence by telling their neighbors and friends that I was accepted into an elite boarding school.
The very next day they took me to the closest Registration Center and had me registered as an Abnormal, which is where I had received my IDtag. My name, year of birth, and power was engraved into the silver metal. They even upgraded it to the Training Version, which sent out small electric shocks every time I attempted to use my newfound powers. Despite what they made us believe, people like me weren't illegal, our powers were. There were multiple schools and 'houses' like these which tried to teach us how to be "normal." That is what the brochures and propaganda said anyways, though it was more to teach us how despised and unwelcome we were in a world that didn't quite understand us.
Abnormals have been around for about a hundred and twenty years, the first case of someone showing abilities dating back to the early 1900s. It took them nearly 75 years to achieve basic human rights, having gone through two wars and countless strikes, marches, and raids. Too many lives were being lost so the government finally decided to declare those with powers as human, referring to them as Abnormals. A peace treaty of sorts was established, though it was made clear that using your powers without permission was prohibited and breaking that rule was punishable by law. It wasn't a perfect deal, but it was more than anyone had expected to achieve, so they agreed. Flash forward 50 years and Abnormals are treated like the scum of the earth. If you were lucky enough to have avoided being registered, which was highly illegal, you might actually have a chance of getting a decent job and living a relatively normal life. If not, you are stuck cleaning dishes or picking up trash, if you get lucky.
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