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True Identity

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Author's note: I just wanted to express what it would be like to be completely change.
Author's note: I just wanted to express what it would be like to be completely change.  « Hide author's note
Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 Next »

Prologue

It started out like another ordinary summer day. If you count a near frozen planet a “summer” place. My name is Garmatha Sedor, “Garm” for short. I know great name right? But that’s the way it is in the way my parents are, my dad, Ross Sedor is a science major from Penn. State. My mom, Isabelle “Izzy” Sedor, a zoologist. Being gifted is considered “in” now a days, and that’s the way it is in the year 2034, and the frozen world. Thing is, around 2015, scientist came up with a way to cool down the earth’s atmosphere using a chemically generated ozone layer. You can guess how that turned out. So we ended up in a snowball effect. I personally think that people shouldn’t be screwing around with things or ideas they don’t fully understand. That’s my philosophy.
Any way, our schools let us out at a traditional time as they did for years. Give us a break, but little did I know that that would end me up here. Here, is a deserted island off the coast of the North American continent. Ever since I got here, well it be better if you knew how it all started.
While in school, I was a prized athlete. Track and gymnastics, even if I was only thirteen.
Whenever our track team met, I won with a least 10 feet’s worth of distance. I know I may sound cocky, but it’s the honest to god truth. I just enjoyed it, a lot. I do it even in the five-foot snow. I guess I’ve adapted, but I also guess it’s why I was chosen. Still, I’m getting ahead.
My parents were always looking at activities to keep active other than running around wild or flipping off trees. So when a certain letter came in about a “special program” I was signed up, I thought it would be a highly esteemed athletic program for the best of the best. First class flights and everything, but that’s when I noticed at our boarding, a man had a small pouch on his belt shaped like a pistol.
Were we that important, or were they just over protective? But when we reached the island, my suspicions were correct. My protective instincts were on full time high. Guards that didn’t hesitate hide their guns, video cameras lining the electrical barbwire at the top of eight foot high fencing. So full with voltage you could hear the sharp, high pitched whine loud and clear. All adding up to major concerns, what were they planning on doing with me?
When we walked into the building a mile away from the landing strip, the founder and owner of the program came and greeted us. He called himself “Caeruleae”. It sounded foreign to me, possibly Latin, we learned a bit; little did I know his name described his heart.
As my mother and father went to see my dorm, I was told to walk and talk with the Professor. He requested even if I did not enroll, I call him in a professional manner. Out of the corner of my eye, at the far end of the hall, I saw a shadow move. With an outline of a boy. But with a swish of a lab coat, and a push on my back, I lost the silhouette.
The man brought me to a strange room, a lab I guessed. Filled with test tubes, syringes, tools (I had no clue what for), and other things I couldn’t even put a label on. His guard asked me if I would sit on the table, like at the doctor’s office for a check up. Said something about having all my medical records be as up to date and as accurate as possible.
He went over to his bench to retrieve some tools. But when they pulled out a needle labeled, “DNA Injection ‘sample A’” I panicked. Walking toward me, I asked what it was for; all he said was, my future here, as subject number five.
My survival instinct mode kicked into ultra high gear, guns, guards, I began screaming kicking yelling for any one. Even my dead brother. Dalren. The best, so caring and mot considerate person ever, he never thought of himself first; he was also in the National Guard. Served in Iran for five years. Left at 25 years of age.
That’s how he died, and the reason the guard’s pistols made me so much more on edge than an average person, was because I knew their guns all too well. A Desert Eagle 50 cal. I knew that weapon inside out, and all it took to break my brother’s heart, was one bullet. It took one word of it to shatter mine. That day I knew the truth, even if I didn’t know the reason why, it could’ve been complete accident, I had sworn, no matter how hopeless the thought was, to avenge him.
All of a sudden, my world went black, my struggle ended, and I felt a quick pinch in my upper shoulder. Possible my neck, but I knew this was it; I wouldn’t be able to run, or flip from this.
Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 Next »


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NorthLights said...
Jun. 23, 2012 at 9:32 am:
I hope you guys like my book, I'm relatively new to this kind of stuff
 
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