Freak of Nature

One

Running.
Don't know where. Don't know how. Adrenaline was flowing through
me. Bubbling like an overflowing cup. No need to sweat, I could run
forever. So twenty miles felt like nothing. I know that this may not seem
normal for a human. But I'm not normal. I'm abnormal. And I'm not
human. Mere humans call us a 'Freak of Nature'. But I'm more than that.
And if you're like me, you'd understand. Yes, there are more of us. I
can't tell you who we are. Let's just say that we're 'FON's'. And we're not
here to hurt you. Because if we didn't exist then the world would be a
different place.
A very bad place.
You can never decide how your life is going to be. You may be rich; you
may be poor. Only you can decide how your life is going to end. At
least, so I have heard.
My name is David Morgenson. I never knew who my parents
were. All I know is that they died. Was their death a choice or was it
predestined?
 I realized that life is a no-fair play. You are born into the game.
But the real question is: How do you get out? If you cannot choose how
your life begins, then how do you choose how your life ends? Either you
kill yourself or someone does it for you. And, like I said, is your death
predestined or is it a choice?
And, if so, why was I born a fugitive?...
__________

As you can tell I’ve had a rough life. It all started when the SWAT team
barged into our room during third period. And I don’t think it was
Parents’ Day, either.
I was bored during class. This is technically my classroom routine.
I get—well, distracted isn’t the word—interested in the most
meaningless stuff. Call it distracted, but interested sounds…better.
When it comes to school, I get bored. But when it comes to anything
else, count me in.
I still don’t get how I even got an education. I didn’t have any
money. Obviously, no parents. But it felt like someone was watching out
for me. It didn’t really feel like a conscience or anything. (If I even had
one.) More like I had an unknown guardian, so unknown that it felt like
my shadow—sometimes there, sometimes gone; stalking my every
move. Whoever it was, whatever it was, it was urging me to move—
NOW!
That’s when the SWAT team broke down our door, weapons in
hand. Ready to strike this foul creature that loomed in the shadows,
clinging to death—me. But it was too late. I was already long gone. The
adrenaline rush returned. I was back to my former life. Running. Don't
know where. Don't know how.
I felt like a fugitive in my own eyes.

As you can tell, I have no parents. No one to look up to. But myself.
Yes, I was my own mentor. I felt like one of those prehistoric creatures.
Imagine how they would feel, adapting to this strange human infested
world. That’s me. That’s how I feel. I live up to my own philosophy. My
only purpose: Stay alive. Stay unknown. And that’s exactly what I do.
Now I attend Goode Middle School. Nothing really has changed.
Except one person. You remember my rule: Stay unknown. Well, it’s
pretty hard with this girl always staring at you.
It was the first week of school. I always sit at the back of the class.
Alone. Unwanted. Until she came.
“Hey, what’s your name?”she asked. This girl had auburn hair that
drifted past her shoulders, green eyes, and smelled—don’t ask—rich.
She wore a pink blouse and dark blue jeans. She was one of those who
didn’t need makeup. They were naturally beautiful.
I ignored her. When she finally noticed that I wasn’t talking, she
went on, saying, “My name is Madeleine.”
To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know my name. I don’t think I
even had one. But how could I explain that to Madeleine. She was the
only one who had ever confronted me. Everyone else thought of me as
worthless scum.
 And by then, Madeleine hadn’t even turned around, so I decided
(accidentally) to say something intelligent like, “Uhhmm...”
Madeleine giggled. I couldn’t tell if it was because of my sheer
stupidity or did I have something on my face. (Oh no! What’s this weird
feeling? I never cared about what others thought about me. Or what I
thought about myself.)
Luckily, the teacher intervened. “Madeleine, turn around. There’s
nothing important back there anyway.”The teacher set her eyes on me.
Kids chuckled.
Later, Madeleine looked back at me for the last time that day, and
did the most overwhelming thing—she smiled. Not a devious smile.
More like a welcoming smile that made me choke inside.
I felt happy? It was hard to explain. But all I can say is that I
finally knew someone that liked me. (And maybe, just maybe, I liked her
back.) But all in all, I knew something for sure: I finally belonged.