Please, Consider Me A Special Case

"You can't seriously say you're not the least bit curious."

I sit at the kitchen table picking at the dry meat loaf that my "mother" presented again for dinner. We are supposed to be having a "family dinner". Normally, this is a technology-free dinner thing that works, as my so-called mother would be reprimanding my so-called brother for having his tablet at the dinner table. However, tonight even she has a phone hidden in her lap. I try to signal to Landon to take a peek at her phone by making eye contact with him and diverting my gaze towards her lap, hoping he will follow suit. And he does look her way, only for his eyes to settle on her breasts. He gives me an idiotic, bright smile with his perfect teeth, and a thumbs up. He turns his focus back to his tablet, chuckling quietly to himself; he's laughing at my annoyance I'm sure.

She holds her phone with one hand, and the other rests on her forehead. She's normally not so obvious about being upset because she thinks it will upset us as well. She has yet to fully grasp that her emotions have no affect on us, which is part of the reason we're here.

"Why aren't you excited?" Landon continues, "They may have discovered a 13th super kid in India!"

"It's only a rumor."

"Honestly, what better than super powers to spark your interest?"

"I don't know why you're getting so excited," I respond, "We aren't the super ones." I look back down and resume picking at my meatloaf. This comment captured his attention, as I knew it would.

"We could be though, right?" he gestures as if expecting me to agree.

"No." For someone who stays glued to a technology screen for hours at a time, you'd think he had been paying attention.

"Imagine how much power we'd have over our own lives if-"

"Those children were born that way, we will never be like them."

He puts his tablet down slowly, chuckling to himself. "I can be anything I want," he responds contently.

"Really? Tell me why you think so?" I change my sitting position. One leg crossed over the other, slightly leaning toward my patient to show him I "care" and that I'm really listening, hands intertwined and in front of me; I know this posture well.

He smiles; he also knows this posture well.

…

Our third night here, Landon and I spoke about how long we thought we would be here, our psychiatrist (who we were to regard as a maternal figure), and about why we're being fed the same three meals every day.

We were part of a government program, cooked up by a naïve group of psychologists who thought putting two crazy teenage boys in a family like setting with an attractive psychiatrist as their "mommy" would help make them get "better". The public agreed to this nonsensical program so that they could separate the abnormal people from the rest of society. I speculate that Landon and I were paired because my depression-induced mellowness is supposed to help him, and his normally optimistic nature (when he's not having an explosive psychotic episode of course) is supposed to help me. Landon said he thinks it was for another reason, but even when threatened with death by strangulation he never spilled.

We both decided that our best bet was to play along with the whole family concept. The difference between our behaviors, however, was that I could be more "normal", but Landon was continuing to misbehave for attention. People like him would do anything to stand out.

Unlike Landon, my behavior is improving. I've been making more socially acceptable responses. Sometimes, I even stare at a photo of my real family and make myself cry while "alone" in the bathroom, like a normal boy would. At least I think that's what a normal boy would do, I'm not sure if I've known many. It's working. Our host mother clearly trusts me more than Landon; however, it's getting harder to keep my composure these days.

About three months after Landon and I were paired as compatibles and admitted, a group of twelve kids, all born on the exact same day, were found to have supernatural abilities. There is speculation that there are more out there, but so far these lucky twelve are the only officially accepted "super kids". The abilities seemed to have manifested out of nowhere on their 14th birthdays, and I would have liked to know how, but most people just wanted to know what these children could do, and that's all that ever gets broadcasted to this day. Some of their abilities aren't that special by current societal standards, but a few can do amazing things that have made them some of the most famous and idolized people on the planet. Sophie, a quirky American blonde with bright blue eyes and freckles, had earned herself the name "America's Angel" and had been sporting her telepathic abilities all over the world. Landon and I had access to television and social media, so we'd often watch her and research about the "super kids" or "Children of Darwin". I'm really not that interested in them, but Landon is clearly obsessed with Sophie, and I'm fully aware of him pretending to forget her name every time he brings her up.

I admit, we both show a little too much interest in Al Kim. Al Kim was just a regular stressed (and academically low performing) Korean student. Then, randomly, on his 14th birthday, he was performing exceptionally well in all subjects and could speak fluently languages he had never learned after hearing them spoken just once. He was one of those with the less-interesting talents. Late night talk shows were having a field day with the "Smart Asian Kid" bit. In a world where knowledge is becoming increasingly less important to the general public, being super smart is just not special enough anymore.

"They try to make being a super kid seem like it's so amazing and like everyone should want to be one, but you get here and you're still not good enough. The goal post keeps..," I heard Al Kim's voice say from the TV. It was time to move to the living room now. I placed my phone on the dresser next to the love seat, and made my way to the leather rocking chair across the room, waiting for Mother to take her seat. Landon enters, still staring at his tablet, but now a little annoyed, since he'll have to write an essay explaining why he wants to kill the super children and who that would hurt before we go to bed tonight. He sits next to the dresser and flips on the lamp. Finally, our mother stops pacing and decides to take her seat next to him, and I watch her lay her phone on the dresser next to mine. Landon peaks to be sure both phones are there, too subtle to be caught on camera.

One TV host's loud laugh catches me off guard. "He's at it again, the crazy bastard!" the loud one yells. "Somebody get this kid some Calculus homework or something...". Mother changes the station. On this channel, super kids are participating in a special edition of some game show. Amazing.

An assembly of the Mental Stability and Social Conduct Rehabilitation (MSSCR) schools would be happening tomorrow. Several government officials were going to come to our school to have auditions, hoping to find more children with powers. It was the first time the government would test students from their own program. The four schools for the abnormal in our district, all teaching students who were part of the same program as Landon and I, would be brought together at one of the schools, School of the Selfish most likely because that was the only school with the space for all of this.

It's not really called the School of the Selfish, but that's what our fellow high school program students call it. The other schools were the School of the Stupid, School of the Strange, and, my school, School of the Psychotic. Selfish kids were a mixture of issues; the only thing that set them apart was their family money. Their school had better food, better education, and was more of a resort than anything else. The School of the Stupid, an awful name for the school with kids with intellectual disabilities, was considered a separate school but was attached to the School of the Selfish. They get taught "life skills" by working for the Selfish. Like the Selfish and the Stupid, the School of the Strange was our brother school. Strange kids were antisocial, and there was nothing really bad about most of them, besides the fact that they had trouble reading social cues and following social norms. Strange is where the non-violent psychopaths and high-functioning autistics can be found. The violent ones are in my school.

Because Strange problems are simple and curable in most cases, these are the students who graduate from the program the most after the Selfish (who graduate whenever their parents pull them out). It's not really frowned upon to say you spent a few years in a School for Strange as it would be if you said you spent a day at a School for Psychotic. These days, just about anyone could make a small social mistake and be labeled a Strange kid.

Last week, large red, white, and blue flyers were taped to lockers and stapled on bulletins everywhere, and there was a ticket booth waiting for you in front of the lunch room entrance. If you didn't have the blue and white "I Could Be Special Too" stickers, you were not allowed to get your lunch until you verbally denied your attendance. Depending on who was working the doors, you could still be denied entrance until you explained why. If you were 14 and your birthday happened to line up with the super kids, you received a special free "VIP" ticket, which really just meant the assembly would be mandatory for you. However, if your birthday does not fit and for some reason you felt like you should be tested, you could still buy a ticket. I'm 98 percent sure Landon is going because he thinks he'll see Sophie and not because he thinks he has super powers. He told me how he heard rumors that it may be possible for the twelve (particularly Sophie) to sniff out other supers and that's why they attend.

Mother falls asleep at exactly 9:30, as always.

"Can you slide me my phone, please?"

Landon unlocks and slides me Mother's phone across the living room floor.

***

It's not hard to find the news reports she had been reading.

For the first article, apparently, there had been an ongoing debate between the government and the majority of the general public about whether kids from MSSCR schools like mine should be allowed to be tested. The government was pro for the usual exploitative reasons, but a significant percentage of the public don't believe its even possible because they think the supers are appointed by God for being good people. After approving the testing and receiving backlash, the President made a controversial, legally-binding statement on record saying "If and MSSCR student is found to be special, the minute that student exits school grounds, their past mistakes are irrelevant and we as a society must give them a second chance to do right. God would not have made that child special if they were not good deep down inside." The public, however, was worried that if children like us found out we had powers, not only would we hinder our rehabilitation process, but we could be very dangerous with our realized abilities. They're not wrong. I'm not some psycho like Landon. I'm a good person, but I admit I would want to be the only super kid. The most special person in the world.

I move on to the next article and it turns out, this child in India really is a confirmed super kid. At first, I couldn't bring myself to understand why the program withheld this information, which it's obvious they did because otherwise this breaking news would be everywhere and Landon would have known from his tablet four hours ago. I don't have to turn to the news to know that the time shown there is wrong and that every channel is probably set to play things from earlier today. It isn't until I continue reading that I begin to understand. This unnamed child's birthday is not in September like "America's Angel" and every other beloved super child. His birthday is in August, on the same day as my own. This means I'm super too.

...

I spent all night trying to figure out what my super power was. My abilities could be placed into two different categories: super-adaptive (SA) or heightened awareness (HA). I prayed to be SA. If I turned out SA like Sophie, I got the super kid lifestyle as well as the respect and the fans. If I only had heightened awareness, like Al Kim, I only got the lifestyle. No use being special if you're the wrong kind of special. I pretty much already have that going on.

So, I spent the night awake, focusing hard, though I didn't really know what to focus on. I tried to make something come out of my hands, then I tried to make myself transform into something, and then I watched Landon sleep and tried to see if I could do anything to him without physically touching him.

The next morning, I tell Landon the truth: that I was special. Of course, he laughs in my face. A foolish child forever an outcast because he was born with a mind that will never be accepted as normal in a society where being normal is all people care about, unless, of course, you're special in the right ways, like me.

As the bus approaches the school, we see the crowd of protestors. They raise their signs screaming in indistinctive banter. A news truck is close by, and as the bus slows up towards the crowded busway, I see an angry overweight man point right at our bus several times. The pedestrians refuse to move out of the way, and our bus driver ends up having to pull around to the back of the school.

When we enter the auditorium, it's clear that seats will be assigned. One by one, students are checked in and told to sit. There are already three rows of students in front of the stage when I get in. They sit with their legs crossed and are positioned so close that they constantly brush elbows, irritably. This will definitely cause problems, considering the number of violent adolescents in one area. No doubt done on purpose...

The assembly begins. The auditorium lights are dimmed, and the stage spotlight is turned on. In the middle of the stage, there is man in a suit. He looks like if he went to one of our Schools, he would be with the Selfish. The watch on his wrist can be seen glistening from where I'm sitting, and I'm not close. It's pretty obvious he doesn't want to be here testing us. To his left is a significantly older man who hunches over with a cane, his head is down and he just stares at the stage. He looks off balance, and I wonder if anyone else sees him seeming to tilt forward every now and then. It seems like he could die in front of everyone any minute. Watch guy starts to speak.

"My name is William J. Morris," he pauses, "but my identity isn't, and won't be, relevant to any of you. The man to my left is Dr. Elliot, the scientist who..." He trails off and stares in front of him.

One of the strange kids is peeing and crying, and the other kids around him are laughing and moving away. I know who it is because he does it often. Every time he thinks too much attention is on him, he pees himself. He's so popular for it he even got himself a nickname, but I'm supposed to believe it was an accident that the organizers put Pee Stain in the front?

While two guards escort the disturbance out and calm the commotion, Mr. Morris completely abandons his speech and signals towards the left entrance of the stage. He gives the mic to Dr. Elliot and storms out. If he's who I'll be working with, I hope he doesn't think I'm anything like Pee Stain. Landon and I are nothing like any of these stupid kids. I then see why Morris signaled towards the left entrance. One by one, the super kids and security guards enter and a chorus of cheers and boos breaks out.

I recognize hyper-aware Al and fellow super-adaptive Sophie immediately.

Once the crowd is silenced, stuff which we already know is explained to us. Dr. Elliot explains that SA children are the ones who can do seemingly impossible things physically and have adapted to the modern world in ways that can protect them from things like natural disasters and what not. He orders a demonstration from Sophie, who flexes her telepathy on random objects in the room. There is applause and brief mayhem before various teachers manage to calm the students down. He then explains how being HA has to do more with the mind. He tells us about Al's intelligence, but there is no demonstration and no crowd reaction. Apparently, Sophie's telekinesis makes her SA, but she also has mind-reading abilities that make her HA. This is news to me, and makes me hate her a little more. Leave it to what's-her-face to somehow find a way to be double special.

Each of us will go backstage with a super kid, and if we're special, they should feel something that I guess they feel when they're around each other. We're escorted from our seats by rows to stand at either side of the stage. We'll meet the super kids backstage. My observer will be Al, which means Landon's will be Blondie; I can only imagine his excitement, because I still cannot find him. One by one, students step behind the curtain, taking the backstage exit out after being evaluated. I wait patiently. It isn't the fights or nervous breakdowns occurring every now and then that keep me entertained; it's my own wondering about what is to come.

...

Finally, I'm up next.

I head behind the curtain and see Al Kim sitting at a round table. There's one chair in front of him. Behind him stands two men dressed in suits with visible weapons on their waists, eyeing me with a mixture of suspicion and aggravation. I'm understanding. Considering all the crazies around here, they brought security.

I smile and nod at the security men, confidently taking my seat. I reach out to shake Al's hand. I know that we'll get along well in the future.

He reaches out to shake, then clasps my hands gently between both of his.

"Thank you for coming," he smiles.

"You're welcome," I nod, smiling for the first time in years, "I apologize in advance, but I don't know how to show you what I can do. As you know, it's my first time being tested like this, and I'm really nervous."

I'm not nervous at all, but I said it anyways because I know I'm supposed to be.

We both share an awkward laugh.

"Well," Al responds with a reassuring smile, "consider yourself lucky because you don't need to do anything."

"Oh, thank God," I emote. We chuckle together again. I wonder if this means he can also just tell me what I can do?

"Yup," He continues, "You're test is actually already over. I did it when we were shaking hands. Has anyone ever told you that you have very cold hands? Anyways, you're free to go. Again, thanks for coming."

...

I had to be carried out of the testing room by security, who ignored my screaming demands for a retest and dump me in the cafeteria, where other students that now knew they weren't special were waiting to be released back to the buses. Most don't even look twice at me, laying there looking lifeless on the ground where they dropped me. Landon shows up half an hour later. I still don't get up.

"What are you doing?" he asks, amused, kneeling down to see my misery up close.

"I can't believe this."

"What? Oh, don't tell me this is abou-"

"I'm... not special, Landon."

"..."

"After all of these years of thinking there was something. That there was a chance."

"This will make headlines! We should alert the reporters outsi-"

"And do you know what he said to me? Do you know what that HA, joke of a person Al Kim said to me after crushing my entire soul?"

"Ha, Ha, Ha. Nice pun."

"You're free to go."

"Wow."

"Turns out, the only thing he found special about me is my cold hands."

I sit in silence while Landon enjoys a laugh at my expense. He pulls me up off of the floor into a sitting position, sits next to me, and gives me a pat on the back.

"James, I'm upset," Landon says to me, clearly not upset at all, "because what I'm about to tell you is going to hurt you."

It can't be.

"I'm a super kid, James. I'm special."

...Let's skip ahead again...

Landon coughs and laughs while massaging his neck. "Wow, your hands are cold," he chokes out.

Landon had come up with a plan that would be beneficial for both of us with these exact circumstances in mind, and had slipped me this information on a piece of paper while I was... holding him. He had been planning this for some time. For him, It was the perfect plan to demonstrate his abilities. He skipped testing because he knew I would be here, disappointed in my results, and having a breakdown. He knew how I would feel and what I would want to do, so he made a plan where I could do something much better.

When testing finally ended and it was time to return to the buses waiting out back, we found that both reporters and protestors alike were here now, where they knew we would be exiting. The minute the first kid walks out, the chaos begins. Everyone wants to know if any of us monsters actually managed to fool God into rewarding us with power. Reporters are barking questions at us, protestors screaming obscenities at us. None of that matters now.

Landon and I push through the crowd to the front of the bus. Other students who were lined in front of us file into the open bus door, but we walk right pass the door to the hood and start to climb it.

One after the other, live TV reporters notice and start to record us, probably hoping to use this footage to show the nation how unruly and abnormal we are.

We stand on top of the bus, peering at the crowd below us. Separated from them, but above them.

Landon places a hand on my shoulder.

Sophie, of course, is the first to realize what's about to happen. She comes running out of the school building, shrieking at the top of her lungs. My last thought was that Landon must have been so happy in that moment.

Finally, he uses his power to burn me alive.

That day, we became something more than special. We became infamous.