Them.

March 23, 2012
Rule One: Keep your head down.
Rule Two: No eye-contact. Ever.
Rule Three: Avoid them as much as possible. Pretend you don’t see them.
Rule Four: Even though you’re one of Them, don’t make any contact. No matter what happens.




It’s been another boring day. It seems like all my teachers have ganged up on me and gave me as much homework as possible. My backpack has so many books my back is crying with pain, but I ignore it. I keep my head down, watching my feet walk towards home, a safe haven. One of Them walk past me, with a girl about my age. Too bad she’s going to die soon. She looks pretty. I snap my head back down, memorizing the cracks in the sidewalk. When I reach home I shut the door behind my quietly and lock the door. I live by myself. Both of my parents were killed by Them. So were my grandparents. No matter, though. I’m doing fine without them. Or at least, that’s the lie I have been telling myself for the past month.

I drop my backpack on the floor and walk over to the mirror in the living room. I stare into the mirror, examining my small, fragile frame. I only use my “abilities” once in a while, but I love using them! I get an indescribable feeling that just thrills me and I wish I always feel like that! A small curve of my lips was all I needed to change my eye color and have my wings come out. My hair and my wings are the same color. Jet Black. My irises go pure black, and small, chilling designs crawl across the skin around my eyes. My molars turn razor sharp and my lips turn black. My skin turns as pale as the moon. I lift my hand up. I can control things with my mind, fly, and heal. I lift the mirror with my mind and hear a sharp knock at the door. I drop the mirror and it’s a miracle it didn’t shatter into multiple fragments.
I answer the door and I am greeted by a pale smirk. Nothing about it is friendly or welcoming.
It’s one of Them.





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