| Chapter One |
| I don't really have a name. Not anymore. Not since that day so long ago. If you were to call me something, it would probably be Unknown. My brother and I are now just a part of the crowd. I have no distinguishing features. You could look me in the face for an hour and look away and have no idea of the color of my hair. That's because it has no color. Neither do my eyes. Or my skin. I'm completely anonymous from now on. When this Extra Ordinary Ability or EOA manifested itself, I was just twelve years old. My mother did everything we could think of to "fix" it. We died my hair so it would have color, we got colored contacts, we even used bronzer to give my skin tone. I could have lived like this forever if my little brother hadn't got a powerful "gift" too. His is quite different. He can absorb the genetic patterns of any organic material he touches and transmute his body to match it. This effectively makes him a shape-shifter, but it goes deep than that, but that story is for another time. My life would be so different if my brother had just let that little girl die. But he wasn't that type of person then. Then he blew his cover for a child who had no significance. She fell from the platform in front of an oncoming train. My brother had just touched an ivy plant and he used the thick tendrils to pull her from certain death. Not even ten minutes later, the EOA hate group, People Opposing Freaks, a.k.a. POF, had stolen my "heroic" little brother away. I couldn't let them kill him. I didn't know then. I believed their hype. I actually was foolish enough to think that the POF were really a hate group and nothing more. I pretended to be a freak-hater. I spent an entire year spying on the POF from the inside out. I spent one year, two months and five days swallowing my hatred and made believe I hated my own kind. The next day, I discovered the location of my brother. That night I arrived at the secret POF base where he was being held. That night I broke into my brother's cell. When I walked in, his sad pale face, and he said, "Who are you?" "Don't you recognize your own sister?" "It's hell here, Nona," a test. My brother never used my given name. If I were really myself, I'd say... "Why so formal, Boychild?" "Girlchild. It is you." He sighed. "But did you find me, let alone get in here?" His voice did not have the strength his words did. He had been tortured, tested, prodded, all for someone with no clue what she caused. "It's not true� any of it� is it?" my brother's eyes were hollow, "The POF never wanted to kill me� they wanted to use me." "Yes." I freed him from his restraints, but he made no move to get up. "Girlchild, we can't let this happen� not to anyone else," his eyes flamed in a violent way I'd never seen them glow before. He made a fist. "We must save the rest of them! Are you with me, sister?" I nodded. Thus our new lives began. |