I often wonder what my life would be like if I had been born normal.

Would I have gone to a normal school, made normal friends, had normal relationships, and worried about normal things? Would I have been happier? Would my parents have loved me?

The answer I would generally come up with is a very loud, resounding, yes. My genetics doomed me from the start, though it wasn't my parent's fault, as they would often remind me on visitation day. Oh no, this was my fault, as if I somehow chose to be like this.

I sighed, stretching on my uncomfortable, lumpy mattress. A small rectangle of bright, yellow light was moving slowly down the gray wall across from my bed. For the most fleeting of moments, as I watched it slide over the peeling paint, I forgot where I was. I fantasized being in a comfortable bedroom, about to be gently woken up by a smiling mother. She would bring me french toast and pancakes, my mouth watered as I thought about how amazing it would smell and taste. Sadly, as with all good things, the fantasy was ripped to shreds at the loud, annoying sound of the morning bell.

I quickly jumped out of bed, as my chest constricted and my stomach filled with dread. Today was visitation day. The one day of the month my parents were allowed to visit me in 'Ms. Hester's House for Abnormal Youth.' Living here was hard enough without having to see them so often.

Taking a deep breath I walked to the small cupboard I called my closet and took out a pair of gray overalls. As 'students' here we were all required to wear the same outfits. Individuality was frowned upon here, after all. I also grabbed my towel, the gray material somehow seeming rougher than when I used it for my last shower day, which happened to be 3 days ago. Ms. Hester and her 'ladies' are very strict on water usage, according to her "nothing can wash away the stain of a 'Freaks' existence, so why waste water while trying to do so." Thus, shower times was broken up into shifts, with groups of about 20 showering every 3 to 4 days. Of course, this was also depending on how well each member of the group behaved.

I sighed again and I made my way over to the door next to my bed. I leaned against the cold wall as I wait for the door to be opened, they usually give us ten minutes after the morning bell to gather our things and get ready. The doors were always locked when we were in our rooms, something I personally appreciated. This place was full of people who's personal goal in life seemed to be to make the lives of others even more miserable then what they already are. I was jolted from my thoughts by a loud buzzing noise and the soft click of my door. I waited a few minutes, finding it easier to struggle through the crowd than to walk alone and be spotted by someone. Soon the hallway was filled with the usual incoherent cacophony of voices as everyone made their way over to the showers. The girls got to go first, as the boys generally had to wait until after breakfast. Reluctantly I sauntered over to the door, opening it and walking into the crowded, brightly lit hallway. I barely had enough time to close the door before I was carried with the flow of the crowd.

I stayed quiet as I listened to the voices around me.

"I wish they would let us sleep longer." "I swear I smell pancakes." "I wonder if my dad will even show up today." "I turn 19 tomorrow, I don't even have anything to pack." "Hope the water is warm today." "I miss my room." "Where is she?" "We only get 10 minutes right?"

Soon the voices seemed to become meshed together to become even more incoherent and unbearable. It felt as though they were getting louder making me feel more and more overwhelmed. My heart started to pound and my mouth went dry. I hated crowds, especially this one. I tried quickening my pace, spotting the large opening to the girl's showers. Relief flooded through me as a large group broke away from the crowd and I stumbled with them into the locker rooms that lead to the showers. I quickly made my way towards an open locker, stuffing my things inside as I ripped off my sleep overalls. They were also gray and uncomfortable but made from a slightly lighter material.

When everything was safely inside, I shut the locker door and started walking, completely naked, to the open showers. There was no time for shyness or insecurities here. Trying to cover yourself up, as I have learned the hard way, was a great way to get noticed and be targeted. I still had scars on my shoulders from where some girls had ripped off my clothes during my first few days here. They had told me that little girls like me wouldn't last more than a week in here, not to mention outside those doors. I had only been 13, but their words had stuck with me long after that. The large, white-tiled room was cold, sending a ripple of goosebumps down my spine. Faucets begun to turn as girls were standing in anticipation under the shower heads protruding from the stained walls. Keeping my steady pace towards an open shower head, a short girl with blonde hair and a tattoo of a bird on her shoulder let out a sharp squeal.

"For fuck sake!" She yelled, looking at the water. "Is hot water really that much to ask for?" Many of the girls nodded in agreement, some even exclaimed their refusal to suffer under such conditions.

"They must be new," I thought to myself as I reached a shower and reluctantly turned the faucet. The ice-cold water had hit my skin like piercing knives. I looked down, watching clear streams of water splash onto my pale bare feet. I reached up to try and wash my thick, dark hair, but a flash of silver pulled my attention to my wrist. The IDTag glimmered in the white fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Suddenly I couldn't help but think of why it was on my arm. My parents.