Miss Adelaide's Asylum for Atypicals

Chapter 1

"Atypicals are different from normal people. When born, they were gifted with powers beyond what our ancestors could imagine. They were feared, but priests saw them as gods. Soon, they were worshiped, and built temples. In 1952, a man named Fredrik Altonov saw similarities between Atypicals and regulars, and he conducted human experiments to prove his theory. He proved they were, in fact, human, but could not explain their gifts. At present time, Atypicals are treated with outright disrespect, confined to a small island in the Aleutian Formation named Attu Island, and are still feared by the general population." I Finished.

"Thank you Miss Yates, now sit down." I flush and take my seat, trying to ignore the big, red bullseye I just painted on my own back. The bell rings, and I shoot out of my seat. I speed walk down the hallway, but I'm not fast enough. I get caught in the crowd of eager students trying to get home on a friday afternoon. "Hey Yates, wait up! I wanna have a chat!" Bryce yells jokingly. I try to get through the crowd faster, but to my displeasure, I fail. By the time I make it to the door, Bryce is out of sight. That's unusual. Normally, Bryce won't go away until he gets what he wants. Let me tell you a little more about him.

Bryce is the star of the school, being the quarterback and all. He has perfect grades, throws the best parties, every boy wants to be him and every girl wants to date him. He is a rigid christian conservative and has no respect for people who aren't. Everyone sees him as the perfect student, and thinks he can do no wrong. If only everyone saw him through my eyes.

I only have to walk one block to get to my house. I can do this. I pick up my pace, and keep my head forward, looking for places Bryce might be hiding. I turn left on Juniper lane, and lock eyes on my house. Pale blue, with a cobalt roof. My boots make a clicking sound on the old, faded brick road. I dash up the steps and fumble with my keys, trying to remember which one opens the door. Suddenly, a strong hand clasps over my mouth, and a familiar voice whispers in my ear, "You really thought I was going to leave you alone?". He had followed me. Only God knows what he's going to do. He pulls me into the alley behind my house, and pins both of my hands up against the wall with one of his, leaving me defenseless. "What do you want from me?" I whisper, terrified. "I want to know why you've been avoiding me, and why you are so interested in Atypicals. Of course, I've already figured that out. You're one of them." He says lightly. "No I'm not!" I screech, struggling against his strength. "Don't lie. I need a confession. We can do this the easy way," he pulls a thick black pocket knife, "Or the hard way.".

He flicks the pocketknife open with a quick snap of his wrist, and a sharp, serrated knife appears. He raises the knife and rests the blade against my throat. A tiny drop of blood appears. What happens next, I can't quite explain. My face goes completely numb, and my fingertips tingle. My mind goes blank for a second, and when I open my eyes, I see myself, hands pinned, knife to throat. I realize that I just took over Bryce's body. I can hear his conscious mind panicking, trying to figure out why it can't control its own body.

I make Bryce release my arms, but my body doesn't move. I draw the knife away from my body's neck, and hold it up to Bryce's. I start to press in, then I go blank again. When I look around, I'm in my body again. A few drops of blood roll down his neck, and when he consciousness takes over, he quickly drops the knife and his hands fly to his neck. When he pulls his hands away, there are a few bright red streaks running down his wrists. "W-what did you do to me? You...You took over my body!" he rasps, evidently horrified.

I bolt out of the alley, and run up the steps, jamming my key in the door lock. I fling the door open and quickly step inside, locking and bolting the door in place. I walked around the house and pulled all the curtains closed, hoping no one saw what I did. Bryce has disappeared from the alley, the only tell-tale sign of a struggle being the spattered drops of the blood on concrete. I hear a key being inserted into the lock in the door, and I freeze in terror. The door swings open and in walks my mother, purse in hand, her loose bun surrounded with a halo of stray hairs. Her pink lipstick is faded, her shoes are untied, and her hands are full of books. "Hi Hon, how was your day?" she asks, heaving her books onto the overflowing kitchen table. When I remain silent, she takes another look at me, then shrugs and heads to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. I know it'll be a while before she emerges and is ready for human interaction.