There was no warning when they started to take us away from our families. They said we were special, now I know that was just a glorified way of saying that we were freaks and are too dangerous to keep in society. They split us by our abilities. The Furies who could manipulate fire, the Groundshakers who could manipulate earth, the Cyclones who can manipulate air, and the Glaciers who can manipulate water. I am a Glacier, or at least that is what I pretend to be. I was taken when I was twelve.
It was the middle of the night. I had been having this dream of a girl on a hill. Only that hill seemed fresh, like it wasn’t there two seconds ago. You could see the dirt mound with no grass on it. The girl had an aura about her as if she had just risen the mound all by herself in a matter of seconds. With a flick of her hand she rose off the ground and the hill ignited in flames. As the image got closer and her face got clearer, I realized it was me on the hill. I was the one with that tremendous power. And that is when it all changed, her face contorted in fear, like she had just awoken from a trance and whipped her head around, looking for something. Her eyes landed on a river and she seemed to command the water because a deluge of water was pointed straight at the hill.
I woke up with a start because a loud creaking and then a bang sounded through my house. Water was pouring from everywhere. From the ceiling, from the floor, from the walls. Everywhere. My parents came rushing in asking if I was okay. The expression on there face was like they already knew what happened, what I did –before I even told them.
My dad left the room saying that he was going to call the plumber, the expression on his face was distant, cold even. My mother was talking to me as if I was a stray animal, gentle but wary.
Another ten minutes went by before I heard it. Before I heard the sound of my front door slam open, squeaky boots rushing up the stairs and the surprisingly gentle knock on my bedroom door.
“Why is the plumber knocking at my door mom?” I say confusedly.
“Um, they aren’t plumbers,” she explained with the same voice, like I’m a caged animal, ready to lash out at any moment.
“Who are they?”
My mom was cut off by another knock, this one a little less gentle. My mom rose from my bed and padded her way through my flooded floor and opened my door for the men. They were wearing yellow hazmat suits with shiny black boots. I couldn’t figure out why they where here, none of is were sick.
“Nobody is sick Mom? Why are they here?” I started to feel panicked.
“Yes you are honey, but it is okay we are going to get you help though. These men are going to take you to a facility where they can get rid of your…… specialities,” then she turned and said something I couldn’ t hear to the men and they walked towards me.
I had heard of kids with special abilities who got taken away from their families, but I never thought I would be one of them. Most cases they were forcefully taken from their families, I never once heard of their parents simply giving them up.
I feel cold gloved hands gripping my arms and lifting me off my bed. I struggled against their hold but it was futile. They were stronger than me and I would not be able to break free.
“Mommy, Daddy please don’t do this! I-I-I’ll be good! If I did anything, I’m so, so, so, so sorry! Just please, don’t send me away! No, let me go! Let me go! Please–!” my pleading was cut off by a gloved hand over my mouth.
I tried to bite it, bit the glove was too thick and did nothing to injurE the man. I was just rushed into this non-descript van faster. I tried to summon the power I felt earlier when I burst the pipes, but nothing came. Nothing happened. I didn’t feel powerful, I just felt empty. They must have injected me with something because everything went black.
It has been seven years here at Hammond and I cannot get their faces out of my mind. The look of utter righteousness makes me sick, but I can never hate them because after all they are my parents. Even though they condemned me to this hell, I still love them. I still miss them.