Fourth Birth: The Oakmont Saga, Book 1

While working out a particularly hard problem in the paper, I was interrupted by Aliyah standing at my shoulder. “What are all those funny symbols,?” I was about to answer, but Mrs. Wilde talked first.

“Are you copying it? You could print it, you know” she said, before looking at my scratch work.

“No, ma’am. I was trying to figure it out,” I replied, as she picked up my scratch paper and began looking it over.

“That material looks quite advanced for a fifth grader,” she said, an odd look on her face as she first looked at my work, then at the site and then back at my work.

“It’s a math web site,” I quickly said, defending myself. “I was having trouble with it before I came here and I thought I could work on it while you were teaching. It doesn’t all make sense, but I think that’s because there are errors in it and his entire idea is based on incorrect results,” I timidly answered, afraid that she was mad at me.

Mrs. Wilde scrolled through the web page a little, looked over my calculations again and sighed...again. “I need to know where you placed in your assessments, young lady. Come with me please. Aliyah, she’ll catch up with you when she can,” Mrs. Wilde said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Aliyah replied, and mouthed, “Good luck” to me, with a worried frown.

Mrs. Wilde and I walked back to the office I went to when I first arrived. Mrs. Thornton was sitting at her desk typing away, just like the first time I saw her. As we entered, she looked up with a worried expression.

“Is she in trouble already? I wouldn’t have thought it of her,” she said.

“No, she was an exemplary student. She is too exemplary for my pre-Algebra class, as a matter of fact. I need to see her assessments, please,” Mrs. Wilde said with authority.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wilde, but her assessment test wasn’t performed. There was a problem when she arrived and her handler had to have medical attention,” Mrs. Thornton replied.

Mrs. Wilde sighed again, something she seemed to do a lot. “She needs to be assessed as soon as possible. Please let Dean Hargrove know I need to see him immediately,” she said after her sigh, and looking back up at Mrs. Thornton.

“Yes, Mrs. Wilde,” Mrs. Thornton replied, as she stood up and went to another office on the back wall.

“Dean Hargrove will go ahead and see you,” Mrs. Thornton said, when she returned a moment later.

“Thank you, Mrs. Thornton. Come with me, Melanie.”

We walked to the office of Dean Hargrove, where there was a man that looked like he should’ve been on one of those TV wrestling shows, where the men wore silly costumes and makeup. He had a shining bald head, but what was really noticeable was how large he was, and not fat large. He looked like he had muscles on top of muscles. And he must have been almost seven feet tall. At least that was how tall he looked to me right then. If he’d been green, I would’ve been certain he was the Hulk, or maybe he could have been that Rock guy. Yeah, more that Rock guy than the Hulk, now that I was thinking about it. The Hulk was a little too bulky.

“Good day, Mrs. Wilde. How can I help you? Do we have a discipline problem?” the man said with a deep, booming voice that made me even more scared of him.

“This young lady hasn’t been evaluated, has she?” Mrs. Wilde said, after looking at him for a moment.

“I’m not sure who she is, so I can’t answer that.”

Mrs. Wilde was clearly frustrated for some reason, but maintained her calm. “This is our newest student, Melanie Brager. She just sat in my pre-Algebra class, although she didn’t participate at all.”

He was about to say something, likely to me about not paying attention, but Mrs. Wilde continued talking, stopping him. “She is quite a bit above anything I can teach her in that class.”

He looked over at me again, and there seemed to be some recognition suddenly, his face getting an understanding look. “Well, let’s put her in a higher class then,” he said, as if that was an easy answer.

“I didn’t say that right. She may be quite a bit above anything in any of our classes. You haven’t done an assessment of our newest student and she was stuck in a class she could probably teach, based on what I just observed. I don’t know about the other subjects, but she needs an assessment before she continues,” Mrs. Wilde explained to him.

He looked at me a longer moment this time. “Well, what can I do about it? There was a mix up when she arrived. Her escort had a rather bad nose bleed and wasn’t able to follow the normal protocol, so the medical staff improvised.”

Mrs. Wilde rubbed the bridge of her nose for a moment, then looked back up at him. “You have no idea what we have here. She was reading a website that is what mathematicians read, not fifth graders.”

Dean Hargrove, obviously a disciplinarian, reverted to what he obviously knew and understood. “If she went to a forbidden site, then we need to apply proper discipline,” he stated, with authority in his voice.

He was unable to proceed as Mrs. Wilde talked over him again. “No! She was studying doctorate level differential calculus while I was teaching her peers about basic variables in pre-algebra. There’s nothing that I can teach her in that class. Based on what I just saw, she may know nearly as much math as I did when I completed my PhD and it was still fresh in my mind. The site she was looking at was a doctoral thesis by a world renowned mathematician. I’m not sure I could understand it without a lot of study and collaboration and she was figuring it out on her own.”

He suddenly seemed to get the problem that Mrs. Wilde was trying to explain. “Alright, we need to go ahead and perform the full assessment then. Are you able to see to it?”

Mrs. Wilde finally seemed pleased. “I would be happy to, if you will have my afternoon classes covered. By the way, what were her FICAT scores?”

Dean Hargrove picked at his keyboard for a moment, getting an odd look as he sat there staring at his screen. “These numbers aren’t right. She may need to retake it,” he mumbled.

Mrs. Wilde stepped around his desk and looked at what I assumed were my FICAT scores. She then looked up at me and shook her head. She looked back at Dean Hargrove after a moment of staring at me, with what I thought might have been curiosity, or maybe awe, even though I had no idea why there would’ve been awe.

“No, I imagine her scores will be the same the second time, if not a little improved. I’m not sure how she could improve, but students typically improve the second time around. Dean Hargrove, you have a rather unique child here. Aside from her FICAT suggesting she has the primary skills we’re seeking in abundance, she has some other very interesting gifts we need to figure out how to work on.”

As she said this, my curiosity overrode my caution and I decided that this was the time to gamble and see what was going on in her head. So, I reached out, praying neither of them could sense me.

As I listened, the thoughts I could read easily confirmed what I suspected. She was thinking about some mind skill training in addition to normal school subjects. I didn’t want to push too far, scared of getting caught, but I could sense that this was some kind of government program and they wanted to train all of us kids to read minds. Knowing I’d gambled too much already, I closed the connection. I was very afraid of being detected and I didn’t know how many could do it, or even how they did it.

I wasn’t sure what I did was an actual connection, but that’s how I saw it, kind of like a phone call. I always imagined little purple tentacles going from me into other people’s minds. I wondered if the other kids viewed it that way. Hmm, things to think about, but I didn’t like invading other people’s privacy. What I did with Mrs. Wilde was for survival and I was lucky she didn’t sense me listening.

Another thought suddenly hit me square in the gut. If other kids could hear me, they’d know what I was doing, or thinking about doing, and might report it. Also, I already knew Mrs. Trulin could listen to people’s thoughts. I had to figure out how to block myself from all of them.

I wondered if it was possible to sense the source of the connection. It had to be electrical since all of our brain is electrical. That train of thought made me realize, this was likely some ability to tap into the electrical signals of other people’s brains. I’d have to start studying my own ability and see what I could discover.

Mrs. Wilde was standing over me, with a look of concern on her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m just worried that my test was wrong. Maybe I’m not as smart as you think,” I said, barely above a whisper.

I knew I had let my guard down and I hoped I covered myself good enough. A small laugh came from her, letting me know she’d bought it.

“Child, if you aren’t smart, then I will never see smart. No ten year old I have ever heard of can do differential equations, much less read that man’s paper,” she said, with a smile on her face.

“Are you sure? I didn’t really understand everything that was in that web site,” I replied, looking up at her timidly.

Mrs. Wilde began to laugh openly at that. I thought I might’ve just succeeded in making myself appear more innocent. “You were reading stuff that only people who do advanced math for a living do and it looked to me like you understood most of the paper.”

“That isn’t a paper. It’s just a website,” I said, acting like the child I was and wanting to understand why everyone kept calling it a paper.

“That was a published doctoral thesis by a world renowned mathematician, Dr. Harold Stuben. Very few people can understand what he wrote, including me and I’m a mathematician. You’re likely the smartest person I’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting and I’ve met him,” she said, after another soft laugh.

’If I have anything to do with it, you’ll learn just how smart I am as soon as I can manage it,’ I thought to myself.

As that thought went through my mind, I wondered if I could manage to control my thoughts enough to misdirect anyone that listened to me. That would help me avoid discovery, at least for a while. I’d never know when someone was listening and I had to believe they were almost always listening. Of course, even if I figured out how to block my thoughts, they’d get curious if no one could listen at all. I knew I would.

The best thing I could think to do was to give them false trails to follow, but I did need to learn to block them out, especially when I slept. That was when I’d be most vulnerable. I prayed to God I was just being overly paranoid, and if I wasn’t, that I wouldn’t miss something important that’d give me away.

“Melanie, we’re going to go do some testing to see what your education level is. Just do your best so we can put you in the appropriate classes. Can you do that for me?” Mrs. Wilde asked, apparently done with the discussion.

“Yes, ma’am. I love taking tests,” I said, trying to look innocent and excited. Of course, I was excited because I really did love taking tests, even though now I wish I hadn’t done quite as well on that FICAT. But that was in the past and I had to figure out how to undo the damage, if I could.

She smiled at me and shook her head, like she was confused that I liked tests. Why did adults always react that way to me?

She led me from the offices to a small classroom, with only a couple of desks. There were no maps or decorations in there, nothing. It was a very clean room, which was very odd in a school. Even in unused classrooms there was usually something that made it look like it’d been used.

Leading me to one of the desks, I sat without prompting, the cold of the desk chair a shock to the back of my bare legs, thanks to the skirt I had to wear now. I’d love to wear pants again, or at least some leggings, or even hose with the skirt.

Mrs. Wilde went to a small file cabinet and removed a packet of paper and a pencil. She brought the things over to me and ripped the seal at the top, removing the front cover of the packet. It bothered me the way she unnecessarily ripped it, but that was okay. Not everyone was as careful as I was. I supposed it was one of my pet peeves, as Daddy liked to say. The term he used for my careful opening of packages and envelopes was obsessive compulsive, and he’d also used anal retentive sometimes. So what if I didn’t like to rip it to shreds when I opened it?

Thinking of Daddy, I suddenly welled up before I could stop it. It was very odd how it came over me so fast, and that I was even crying at all. I’d become a mess in a very short time, and it was bothering me, even if it was useful.

The good thing was, it would only make me look weaker to her, but I didn’t like this emotional rollercoaster I seemed to be on. Knowing I needed to use this to my advantage, at least I hoped that was the case, I lowered my head, trying to imitate hiding it, which actually wasn’t far from the truth. I was truly embarrassed that I was acting like this.

A drop fell from my chin to the desk and Mrs. Wilde was there instantly, rubbing my back. “What’s wrong? You said you like tests, and this one’s not that bad. It only lets us know what classes to put you in. That’s all.”

“I miss my Daddy,” I sniffled out, still crying a little.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll see. Before long, you’ll be so involved in your studies, you won’t think about that anymore,” she said, trying to make me feel better.

Unfortunately, that was the worst thing she could’ve said. Her words hit me like a fist to the stomach and I started crying in earnest, unable to stop myself. What got me was that I thought she might be right and that worried me more than anything. It was like All Saints Academy, all over again. I couldn’t let that happen, no matter how long I was forced to be there.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Would it help if I could get a picture of your Daddy for your room? You must never let it out of the room, but I will see what I can do,” she said, realizing her mistake.

“Yes, thank you,” I sniffled out, calming down a bit.

Once I was in control again, Mrs. Wilde rubbed my back a moment more and put the packet in front of me with a pencil and a calculator. “There are no time limits or rules, other than it has to all come from your mind. Here are a couple pieces of paper for scratch work. If you need more, let me know and I’ll provide it. You can begin any time you’re ready.”

This was where I did best...testing. I began and it didn’t take me long to have the first section, which was math, almost completed. Math was my strongest subject, and my favorite.

The final portion of the math section actually required me to think a little, but only because I didn’t want to show my work. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want to, but I never had. So I did the calculations in my head. It wasn’t easy to do logarithms in your head, but I’d learned a trick to it about a year ago.

The next section was science, and began at an early elementary school level. That entire section was a joke, every bit of it. Of course, the math had begun much the same, with simple addition and subtraction. At least the math got a little advanced toward the end. The science was very basic and even the more advanced parts were really easy. The test did get into some physics and chemistry, but they gave all of the formulas so there wasn’t much to think about, just apply the formulas and the answer was there. They wouldn’t get much of an assessment of me from the science section.

After science, the test had sections for social studies, covering government and political science and other areas of social studies. Economics was in the social studies section, for some reason. I would have thought it’d be math, but I suppose I was just a silly kid and didn’t know how these things worked.

Finally, I got to the English section, which was my most disliked subject. Luckily, I always did read a lot and had written a few essays for writing competitions, so it wasn’t that hard, just tedious.

After I finished the English section I expected to be finished, but there were still too many pages left, so I turned the page to see what was there. This section was a bit of a shock to me. It didn’t have a real title, just called Section 6.

It was odd that there were only four sections before. Where was section five? Did they take a section out and forget to renumber it?

The questions were odd too. There were questions that kind of hinted at the voices I could hear, but they were written so that they were easy to misunderstand. It was written a lot like one of the psychiatric evaluations I’d taken during first grade, when I was sent to the loony bin...I’m sorry, the psychiatric rehabilitation blah, blah, blah. It was a loony bin!

I flipped through the entire section, studying the questions. I knew I needed to fail this section miserably, answering the questions to get them all wrong, or at least show that I had no skill there. This section was way longer than the other sections too, yet again confirming to me what was most important to them. Questions were asked more than once but with different wording, like they were trying to trip up someone that might be hiding their ability, similar to the tests I took during first grade to see how nuts I was. If I answered any of the follow up questions the way they wanted, then it would let them know I lied in the earlier ones. At some point, I’d have to reveal that I heard the voices, but I needed to do it as if I was learning how, and slowly at that. I thought I might be able to avoid it altogether, if I could manage to escape soon enough, but I had to plan for it taking longer, in case it did.

When I finally finished, I went back over my answers for that section, then reviewed them again. After my second review, I decided there was nothing more I could do.

Finally finished the test after a couple of hours, I handed it to Mrs. Wilde, who seemed to be watching me the entire time. It didn’t bother me though, since I was used to being watched when I took tests.

“That was rather fast,” she said, looking at me for a moment before looking at my test paper. “Most new students take twice that time to complete it. Well, let me have your scratch paper as well, please. We like to see how you solve problems. It helps us understand how you think,” she said after looking through the packet a little, probably wanting to see how many I left blank. I didn’t leave any blank, so there was nothing to see.

“I didn’t use it,” I replied, a little sheepishly, giving her the unused paper.

“Didn’t you need any paper for the math or science problems, or the calculator, or did you decide not to do some of them,” she asked, with a knowing look on her face, even though she’d looked over my answer sheet.

“No, ma’am. I did them all. My answers are right.”

She just stared at me for a moment, obviously wondering if I was boasting. “Well, let me go and run this through the machine and we’ll see. Come along.”

We left the little class and headed to a door on the other side of the hall, and into what looked like a small supply closet. There was a machine on the far wall that Mrs. Wilde fed my answer sheet into. It was only a minute before the machine spit out a piece of paper with a lot of text on it. She picked it up from the machine and began reading the results, looking at me with an odd look a few times before looking back at the sheet.

“It seems you weren’t completely boasting. You’re the first student to score perfect in the math section. You missed only one question in science and were perfect in social studies,” she told me.

As she informed me that I missed a question in science, I was shocked, and probably got a look of horror on my face, unable to stop myself from exclaiming, “WHAT!?” I couldn’t believe I missed a question in that section. It was way too easy, unless I made some kind of bonehead error, which I did do once in awhile.

“Don’t worry. You did incredible, better than anyone else has ever done,” she said after looking at the expression on my face. I knew I was right, though.

“But I know I didn’t get any wrong in science. The entire section was a joke. Even I could write a better test and I’m just a kid,” I responded, not believing I actually made a mistake like that.

I got horrified as I realized what I said was probably disrespectful. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” I said, trying to look properly meek.

“No disrespect taken, but if you’re so sure of yourself, let’s see what it was you missed and figure out why you missed it. This isn’t something we normally do, but I think you’ve earned it.”

She opened the machine and retrieved my answer sheet. We then walked back to the room, where my test booklet was still sitting on the desk. She looked at the sheet and found the incorrect answer and then opened the test book to the question. She stared at it for a long time, then finally pulled out some paper and worked the problem herself. She then got a calculator and did some work with it. “You do have it right. The machine is actually wrong,” she finally said, greatly relieving me.

Mrs. Wilde then continued looking over my test results. “Well, at least you aren’t perfect in every subject.”

My response was probably not what a teacher wanted to hear, but it was the truth. “I don’t really like English, but I can do it when I have to.”

She smiled at me, “Me too. Well, let’s go talk with Dean Hargrove. We have to figure out what to do with you. You may actually be too smart for us.”

“I’m not as smart as you or the Headmaster, but if you can’t teach me, then I’ll have to go home, I guess.” It was very interesting that she didn’t mention the last section at all.

There was a momentary look on her face that I couldn’t read, but it went away quickly. She didn’t reply at all, only leading me back to the dean’s office.

When we returned, we just walked right in, Mrs. Wilde putting the test results on the desk in front of him. “You need to figure out what to do with our little prodigy. As far as basic academics, I’d be willing to have her sit in any of my classes and be self-taught. She seems able to do that just fine, though I suspect she’ll get bored at some point. For science, that’s between you and the science department, but I’d advise against putting her in with older students. Social Studies is anybody’s guess. I doubt there’s anything she could even self-study in that area, unless she wants to study for a law degree during class,” she said somewhat sarcastically, although I thought she might’ve been serious.

“At least in English, we could possibly put her in with the high schoolers, but as with science, I think that would be a bad fit at her age and temperament. I would suggest letting her take an accelerated mind studies program, maybe putting her in level two, though there doesn’t seem to be any manifestation of talent yet.” That statement was yet another confirmation of the school’s purpose, as if I needed another, but it was the first almost open mention of it.

“Her roommate’s at that level and may be a similar strength, according to her FICAT. Aliyah may be able to bring her up to speed faster.” Dean Hargrove, listening to Mrs. Wilde, didn’t look at the results.

“If you think that’s the best path for math, then I’ll approve it, pending the Headmaster’s approval. What’s wrong with her being in a science class with her peers? Or social studies for that matter,” he asked.

“In all of my years administering the assessment test, I have never had a student score perfectly on any subject, much less three of the four academic areas. And though she didn’t score perfect on the English section, she scored higher than most adults would. If she’s put in a class with her peers, she’ll be bored. She definitely won’t get anything from the classes.”

Although I was afraid of the response, I decided to interrupt anyway, “I’ve been in a regular class for fourth and fifth grades and I just teach myself. My teachers were OK with that.”

Mrs. Wilde just stood looking at Dean Hargrove, as he decided what to do with me, as if I hadn’t said a word. I’d never thought of myself as a prodigy, not that I really understood what that was, and I’d never been a problem for placement, as far as I knew. Of course, my old school probably just put me in a room because my parents wouldn’t let them promote me early. They might’ve known I wouldn’t learn anything in those classes, but couldn’t do anything else.

At the beginning of each year, my teachers didn’t like me reading a book, or anything else really, while they were teaching. They usually would give up on me paying attention within the first few weeks though, especially after scoring perfect on their tests that I didn’t bother to study for.

“Alright, she’ll sit in your pre-algebra class, as she did today and you decide what she does as you see fit. I’ll place her in level two mind class with her roommate as you suggest, unless Mr. Miller thinks otherwise. We’ll have to discuss the rest of her classes with those departments. I’ll schedule a meeting this evening between all of us so we can discuss this with the Headmaster and get his approval.”

“Thank you Dean Hargrove. I’ll be there,” Mrs. Wilde replied.

With that, she turned around, and with a hand on my back, led me out. “What room are you in,” she asked, once we were back in the hall.

“C-15. The room only says 15, though,” I told her.

Mrs. Wilde laughed at my reply. “The C is the floor the room is on. You are on the third floor room 15. For someone so smart, you missed an easy one there,” she said, with a little laughter still in her voice.

“Oh,” I said, feeling silly and a little bit small. It felt like I was being teased again.

We got to my room and Mrs. Wilde knocked once, then opened the door. Aliyah was sitting at her desk with a book and some paper in front of her. She looked up as we entered, with a worried look, but Mrs. Wilde relieved Aliyah’s concern. “She’s not in trouble. She’ll probably be staying in our pre-algebra class and it looks like we’re also going to put her in your level two mind control class. We need you to work with her to try and get her up to speed as fast as possible,” Mrs. Wilde told Aliyah.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best,” Aliyah replied, with her cute southern accent.

“I’m sure you will Aliyah. You always do,” Mrs. Wilde said with a smile. “We’ll decide what your classes are this evening and let you know,” Mrs. Wilde then said, looking back to me.

We only had mind control left today and that was where I was most concerned and had no apparent advantages, not that I ever really viewed how smart I was as an advantage. But I hadn’t had time to work on controlling my thoughts or seeing if I could block others from my thoughts either. I suppose my only hope was to pray that I wouldn’t be discovered and if I was that I wouldn’t be exposed.

Aliyah seemed nice and friendly, and I thought there was a chance I could actually become friends with her, if I wasn’t able to escape. She was kind of odd, which fit well with me, because I knew I was very odd.

Although she was an incredibly beautiful girl, her clothes were a little wrinkled and dirty and her shirt wasn’t completely tucked in. She was generally a little rough around the edges, as Momma and Daddy would say. I figured she did it deliberately, like it was some kind of defense for her or something, not that I could understand why she’d need to put up a defense like that. She was almost a little tomboyish, but still seemed girly at the same time. It was kind of a weird combination, like she wanted to be a girl but was trying to hide it.

When we got to mind class, my prayers were granted as Mr. Miller partnered me with her. He was a stocky man, with short cropped brown hair and a close trimmed beard and moustache. He wore a button up dark blue shirt, that looked like it was just ironed and immediately put on, so still had that stiff look to it. His khaki pants looked the same. His face looked friendly, but somewhat serious.

As I worked with Aliyah, I soon knew she was very good at hearing thoughts, but as we worked together she couldn’t seem to hear mine for some reason. She did manage to hear everybody else in the room rather easily though.

With her attempting to listen to me, with me concentrating on trying to control what I was thinking, I also tried to find the signal that allowed us to hear. Just as I thought I was beginning to see purple tentacles coming from her, and everyone else, Mr. Miller walked up, shattering my concentration.

I was fairly certain I saw them but maybe they were just my imagination. I needed to concentrate hard to do it though. What I saw, just before he came up, was just like the ones I always imagined seeing come from me when I used to listen to people’s thoughts.

“Aliyah, what can you tell me about our new student?” he asked, after watching us for a little while.

“Sir, I can’t even sense her,” Aliyah replied, looking up at him.

He looked between us for a moment and then focused on Aliyah. “You have been improving so much lately. Has your talent failed you again?” he asked, but we both knew he didn’t want an answer. He was rubbing his chin, with a thoughtful look. “Hmm, let’s try something.”

He then looked away and finding his target, said loudly, “Megan, would you join us please?”

A small girl walked over and sat on the floor between us, now forming a three person circle. Megan was as small as me, but I think she was actually younger, whereas, I was just small. Her hair was a medium brown and cut somewhat short. She had light brown colored eyes that sparkled in an odd way, as if there were flecks of gold or crystal in them. Although she was definitely not fat, she was not skinny either, seeming muscular rather than chubby.

“Would you try and listen to Melanie? See what she’s thinking,” he instructed her.

Megan got a look of concentration on her face and after a little while of that, closed her eyes. Her face scrunched up even tighter, letting me know she was trying to concentrate harder. While she was doing this, I deliberately started thinking of Daddy and how he would say this stuff was garbage. I concentrated really hard on these thoughts and no others.

Unfortunately, I concentrated so hard on that, I forgot to try and look for the probes. As I was concentrating on hiding my thoughts, an intense and sharp pain erupted in my head. I grabbed my head with both of my hands, trying to squeeze my brain out, it hurt so bad. I think I let out a gasp, or maybe a small scream.

“She’s really hard to hear,” Megan finally looked up and said, the pain going away as she did. “It’s like looking through muddy water or something. I had trouble even finding her. Her thoughts are really weird too, full of really strange things I can’t understand. But I think she was thinking about her Daddy and garbage or something. That’s all I could feel. Oh and there was the impression of a lot of pain.” I kept thinking about Daddy, but couldn’t help getting excited at my success.

“Well, Melanie, you seem to be an enigma. Aliyah can’t read you at all, and my second best student has a hard time of it. We’ll need to explore that some more,” Mr. Miller said, after a minute of thinking.

As he said that, I began to see that odd tentacle that I thought was a probe. The real surprise though, was that it was coming from him. This time I knew I could see it and I only had a moment to protect myself.

Almost panicking, I forced myself to start thinking of the first thing I could. Oddly, I thought about the calculus website I was on in Mrs. Wilde’s class.

The probe was very quick and was gone almost immediately after touching me. I felt violated and there was a sharp pain behind my eyes, which lingered a little longer than the last one.

What he just did showed me that he could read our thoughts and he could obviously turn it off when he wanted. He was yet another adult that could read thoughts. What was also as big a worry was the pain that came from him touching my mind. I’d felt that several times recently and always around a mind reader, but now I’d connected it with a probe. At least, I thought I had.

“I’ll bet you’re really good at math, aren’t you?” he asked me.

“Mrs. Wilde let her study on her own in class today because she can’t teach Melanie anything,” Aliyah said, before I could reply.

Mr. Miller looked at Aliyah with a look of irritation. “You will submit yourself for discipline to Dean Hargrove during lunch tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, looking scared but resigned.

He then returned his attention to me. “You look like someone that would be good at math.” He had an odd, thoughtful look as he walked away, going to work with other students in the class.

His comments said a lot about him. He wasn’t letting the students know he could hear them, but I bet Mrs. Trulin didn’t either. He also used it when they didn’t know he did, which seemed wrong to me. However, what mattered most was the small possibility that they didn’t have normal monitoring equipment in this place. It was only a possibility and a thought, but it might be true. I wondered how many teachers could listen in on our thoughts. I needed to start paying attention to the teachers and see which ones could listen, which meant I needed to get better at seeing the probes.

For the rest of class, I acted like I was trying, even thinking that I was trying, in case anyone was listening. During that time, I had no success that they were aware of. The class finally ended after a bit more work with Megan and Aliyah, my head splitting by the end.

Aliyah and I walked back to our room and both of us plopped on our bunks when we got there. “I’m exhausted. You’re the hardest to read I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know why,” I replied, truly not knowing.

“Every time I try and read someone I can always sense them and I can usually get into their thoughts, but it’s like you’re not even there.”

“Can any of the teachers listen to us,? I asked, trying to move the conversation in a different direction.

She picked her head up, looking at me for a moment. “I hope not! I don’t know. Eww…that would be disgusting to have Mr. Miller in my head.” I didn’t bother to tell her that he probably had been.

“How can they train us right, if they don’t have someone that can do what they’re trying to teach, especially in that class?”

Aliyah got a thoughtful look, “Now I’m going to be paranoid.” She plopped back down on her bed, but was laughing as she did. “Imagine Mr. Miller picking through my thoughts. He wouldn’t like me as much if he did.”

“Or he’s a good actor,” I replied, innocently.

“You’re going to be trouble. I like you,” she stated, rather matter-of-factly. “We really should work on what he told us to do. I need to get past my block with you and you need to learn to read someone, which I guess is me,” Aliyah said after a long sigh. I hated the fact that I already had and couldn’t tell her, feeling like I’d violated her trust before I even had it. Still laying on my back, I turned to look her, knowing I had to maintain this lie. She smiled at me, laying in the same position, on her bed.

Deciding that we really did need to look like we were working, and I suppose for Aliyah she would be, I sat up and looked over at her. “At least we can be comfortable while we do this.” I leaned against the wall and fluffed my two pillows behind my back and we both started working.

While she was trying to probe into my thoughts, I tried to think of innocent things for her to read. At the same time, I made hints that I might be sensing something. What I was really doing was watching for her probes, which I was already beginning to figure out how to sense more often. I guess that God must’ve helped me when Mr. Miller probed me, because I couldn’t do it enough to rely on it. Not yet anyway.

After working for a couple hours, Aliyah slumped back on her bed. The pain in my head was horrible. Even though she couldn’t seem to sense me, her probes touched me constantly, causing excruciating pain every time they did. It added to what was still there from class, and Mr. Miller’s probe. I definitely knew the source of the pain now, thanks to repeated touches, over and over.

“I can’t do this anymore and it’s time for dinner anyway. Come on, let’s go,” Aliyah said, exhaustion in her voice.

“Do you want to go with your friends? I’ll be alright,” I said to her, as I headed to our shared vanity, so I could brush my hair.

She looked at me with a sidelong glance. “You’re my new roommate and I’m responsible for you. Besides, I don’t have any friends, at least not yet,” she replied, sending a stab of guilt into me.

But I smiled at her anyway as I stood up, a facial expression that was not normal for me. With my hair back in an acceptable state, I grabbed her arm and began leading her down the hall. That was something else I never did, taking the lead.

After we had walked a long way, she suddenly stopped and looked directly at me. “You don’t know where you’re going.” It was not a question.

“Nope,” I replied with a broad grin.

She started laughing at me, not a mean, teasing kind of laugh, but rather a friendly laugh. “And you led me down this deserted hall. I thought you might know some shortcut.”

We turned around and quickly returned to the normal areas of the school, and to the cafeteria. However, as we were heading back, I paid attention to where we were going, or rather where we were leaving. There were doors here and there with doctor’s names on them. I was pretty sure it would be worth exploring later.

The noise in the cafeteria was just like any school cafeteria. What was new for me was that there were kids of all ages, and a lot of them. There had to be several hundred kids in the place.

Another oddity was that there was an open area, where the food was served. We were able to go to a section and get what we wanted. One place was for burgers and that type of thing, another had pizza and the last had regular meal type food. There was a fourth section, but it was closed.

Aliyah and I got in line for our food and when we got there, they let me get whatever I wanted, not putting the other stuff on my plate that I didn’t want, unlike my last school. That was a new twist for me, and a welcomed one. I hated throwing food away.

Having gotten our food, we found a table and sat down. The tables were designed to sit about eight kids each and there were probably a hundred tables in the large space, maybe more...maybe a lot more. I’d never been good at guessing the number of something in a space, such as kids in a cafeteria.

Kids randomly sat around the room, often with kids they didn’t know. It became very obvious that no one sat with us, since we were the only two at our table through the entire meal, yet kids came and went from other tables, seemingly at random, some clearly looking for a place to sit. Yet they all avoided us.

“Do I have cooties or something?” I asked Aliyah, although I didn’t mind not having to talk to a bunch of kids I didn’t know.

“No, I do,” she replied, and paused. “I reckon you do by being with me. Hey, I don’t have them by myself anymore. Welcome to the club formerly of one,” she continued, laughing a little.

Although I didn’t laugh with her, I did force a small smile. “Well, if it’s a club, then it’s the club to be in,” I said, tilting my milk carton toward her like a toast.

“Darn right it is,” she said, bumping her milk carton against mine, completing the toast.

While eating, I tried to focus on the room, to sense people trying to listen. As my concentration deepened, I began to see the little purple tentacles from every kid in the room. Some more strongly than others. I noticed that the stronger they appeared, the more the tentacles seemed to glow, or radiate. I could actually feel the strength in them, which was very interesting. None of the adults that I saw had any tentacles, but maybe they knew how to turn it off. Aliyah had the brightest and fattest tentacles of any kid in the room, even the older kids. What i could remember of mine, I was pretty sure they were brighter than hers, which meant they were brighter than the other kids too.

As I was learning, I realized that a few of the older kids didn’t have tentacles, which might mean they’d learned to turn it off as well, since I couldn’t figure out why there’d be any kids here without this ability. At this point, I was guessing about the strength and what I was seeing, but it seemed to make sense and felt right.

I discovered one thing really fast, in spite of the time working with Aliyah. Every time one of the tentacles touched me, pain erupted in my head, getting worse the stronger the telepath was. I now had no doubt that Mrs. Trulin probed my mind at my house, and based on the pain it caused, she had to be strong if my guess was right. Some of the touches in the cafeteria seemed intentional, as the probes came directly for me, not roaming around like most did.

“Is everything okay?” Aliyah asked, interrupting my study of the kids in here and my efforts to resist the pain.

“Yeah, why?”

“You look like you’re looking for some hidden axe murderer or something.”

“I was just looking at the other kids. I do that sometimes,” I said, hoping to hide my actual intentions, along with the pain.

Of course, I suddenly realized that I hadn’t been hiding my thoughts, which meant if any of them read me, they’d know I could do stuff with this power. Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it now, but I would continue with my hint of a plan until I was forced to change it.

About the time we both finished and returned our trays to the cleaning conveyor belt, Aliyah nudged me. “You’re really going to have cooties now,” she said with a hint of a smile on her face.

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” She lifted her hand a little, motioning to the entrance of the cafeteria and I saw Mrs. Wilde, obviously looking around.

She had to be looking for me, which was what Aliyah was trying to tell me. I quickly turned back around.

“Is there another way out? We could head back to our room. It might make our isolation a little less severe,” I said to her.

“I don’t care about being alone. I’ve been alone for a long time now and I’m getting used to it. I was thinking about you, but it’d be fun to send her on a wild goose chase. Besides, I have you now, so I won’t be alone anymore.”

Aliyah smiled at me and we headed for a side door. As we were leaving, I chanced a look and noticed that Mrs. Wilde saw us as we walked through the door. I just hoped she didn’t think we were avoiding her, even though we were. I needed as many people feeling pity for me as I could get, especially the ones in power.

Aliyah knew the halls very well and took us back to our room in no time. As we got to the door, she stopped, making me run into her.

“We have about an hour of free time. You want to go have some fun?” she asked, with a smile on her face, as I recovered. I had no idea what there was to do, but I was pretty sure she already had an idea of what she wanted to do, from the way she was looking.

“You probably don’t know what there is to do, I’ll bet. Come on. I’ll show you,” she said with a broad grin, voicing my thought before I could respond.

As we were walking away, I thought back to her admission of having cooties. “We’re a little old for cooties aren’t we? And I thought girls only got cooties from boys.”

She smiled a big, mischievous smile. “A couple years after I got here, there was a new boy that all of the girls liked. Unfortunately for them, he liked me. So one day, we happened to team up in mind control and next thing I know we went together to dinner and then activities after. That night I kissed him on the cheek before we went to our rooms. Some of the girls saw it and got jealous, so I’ve had cooties ever since. They usually get the new girls before they’re tainted by me. You slipped past them.”

“Is he still your boyfriend?”

“No way. He is the cooties. Actually, he was very surprised when I kissed him, and just like little boys, he was freaked out by it. Once the girls started with me, the boys started teasing him, so he quit having anything to do with me. Only difference is, the boys forget quicker than girls or they were just having fun with him and got tired of it, so he fits right in with them.”

“How long ago did that happen?” I asked, curious about the story.

Aliyah put on a thinking face for a minute and then drew out her response. “Oh, I think it might have been about six days ago.” I couldn’t help laughing at her, which was an unusual thing for me. Aliyah managed to make me laugh for the first time in longer than I could remember.

This place was definitely not what I expected. Aside from it being an evil government super-secret prison or training compound or whatever it was, I’d laughed for the first time in several years. Of course, I’d also cried a lot more, which I also hadn’t done in years. The most incredible part though, was that I could actually make a friend, if I wasn’t going to escape.

Aliyah was very different from me, but a lot like me at the same time. She was very talkative and had a very expressive face, and although I seemed to be talking a lot to her, that was definitely not normal for me. She didn’t try and look pretty all the time, but I guess she didn’t need to. I did try, but I badly needed to, since I wasn’t very pretty in the first place. I could tell she was very smart, even if she tried to hide it and not act like it. I definitely loved being smart and did my best to be as far ahead in school as I could. Oddly, we were a good match, and we just met.

“Wow, you’d think they’d have forgotten after so long. I guess some great feats become legends,” I said with sarcasm, pushing my inner thoughts aside.

“Actually, it was around two years ago, maybe a little more,” she said, laughing.

“And you haven’t had a friend that long?” I was shocked by how long she’d been alone. It was half as long as me, but was longer than anyone should be alone. Of course, I really didn’t have any friends before the voices, but I was definitely different and didn’t wish my fate on anyone.

“Nope, not until you came along,” she said smiling, but that admission by her stabbed me in the heart, and I definitely didn’t smile at it. I knew I was going to abandon her at some point. Daddy trained me very well for this kind of situation. Form no attachments while a captive, especially to your captors and do everything you could to get out, no matter what it took.

“Well, I’m not sure. They didn’t tell me about your past when they assigned me to your room. I might need someone that isn’t such a party girl,” I said putting on an innocent smile, in spite of my inner turmoil, which was building. Aside from feeling like I was betraying her, I was struggling to understand what was happening.

“It’s good to have someone to talk to again. I’d forgotten how much fun it could be,” she said, with a happy grin on her face. We went arm in arm into what could only be described as the largest gaming room in the world. There were all types of video games, a bowling alley and an indoor mini-golf course. There were pool and foosball tables. There was even an indoor water park, but it was closed. The place was absolutely incredible.

Aliyah led me straight to the bowling alley as soon as we got there, never showing any interest in anything else. The most incredible thing about the place was that it didn’t look like a hospital, unlike the rest of the building. The colors were darker and the décor was more normal looking, splashed with crazy colors and cool designs, obviously with the kids in mind. It was a relief to my eyes and my mind.

“I love bowling. Did you bowl much before coming here?” Aliyah asked me, very excitedly.

“There was a bowling alley in Eagle River, but we didn’t go much,” I replied, my normal subdued demeanor firmly in place.

“Eagle River? Obviously there is a river named for eagles where you come from,” she said. The statement was so obvious that it actually made me laugh...again.

“Yeah, there’s a river and it’s named for the bird and there’s a town named for the river.” Now, she laughed at me, again not in a mean, teasing way, but more as a friend would laugh at something funny the other said, which I guess is exactly what happened.

“Where is that? I’ve never heard of it before, not that I’ve heard of many places.”

“It’s a little north of Anchorage.”

She looked at me with a slight tilt of her head. “Anchorage, as in Alaska? Wow, it’s gotta be pretty cold up there.”

“It’s not that bad. If you dress right, it’s great. The military kids sometimes have a hard time because they’re not used to it, but they usually fit in with the rest of us before the end of their first winter.”

“Where’re you from? For that matter, where are we?” I asked her, just trying to chat.

“You shouldn’t ask that,” she replied, with a suddenly very serious expression. I realized my mistake, but it was too late. For once, I wasn’t trying to discover anything, but it would definitely look that way.

“Size five please,” Aliyah told the attendant, acting as though nothing was wrong.

“Size three please,” I said as I walked up.

I’d always been a little on the small size, which helped me look younger. Even though I’d always hated that, I was thinking it might become a useful tool for me now.

We went to the lane the attendant assigned Aliyah to and bowled for the entire hour, before everything was shut down for the night. When we got back to our room, Mrs. Wilde was waiting for us, more than likely for me.

“I hope you girls had fun,” she said as we walked in.

“Yes ma’am, we did,” Aliyah replied, but looked worried.

“Good. Melanie, there’s something you need to understand before you have any trouble. When you were recruited for this school, your parents were told where and what the school is. The reality is that what they were told was not entirely true. You have a special gift that needs to be trained and controlled, for your safety and those around you. You’ll also be a vital tool for the government to maintain our way of life. Because of this, the true location, and nature of this facility can’t be revealed. Please don’t ask where it is again, as we always know what’s going on here. Even if another student knows, they won’t tell you. You’ll only get in trouble. This is your only warning,” Mrs. Wilde told me.

“Yes, ma’am.” I lowered my face and looked at the floor. It wasn’t shame that made me do it, but anger.

For some reason, my anger started building very fast, another emotional response I wasn’t used to. Sure, I got mad once in awhile, sometimes enough to actually see red and get really bad headaches from it, but since coming here, my emotions had been going crazy. All of them.

I felt tears in my eyes, but they were tears brought on by the rage suddenly boiling inside me. “So, I’m a prisoner here?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

Mrs. Wilde looked at me for a long moment and then nodded. “I suppose if you want to look at it that way, yes you are. I think you should look at it as an opportunity to do something great for your country, and learn more than you can in your former home.” There was a little sympathy in her voice, but it meant nothing to me.

Knowing that I needed to control myself, I plopped on my bed feeling...I’m not sure what I felt, but I was trying to get a grip on my anger. All of my worst fears had just been absolutely confirmed, in spite of the fact I was still hoping I was wrong somehow. I had known the truth, though, even if I was trying to make it not real.

Apparently, Mrs. Wilde knew that she couldn’t provide me comfort this time, so she just got up and walked to the door. “If you work hard and try to fit in, you might find this to be a good experience and provide whatever benefits were advertised when your parents willingly signed you over to us,” she turned and said.

With tears still in my eyes and my anger suddenly exploding at what she said, I actually laughed at her. It wasn’t a funny laugh though, and I could hear the odd sound to it, as if I was insane or something. I’d been in a loony bin before, so maybe I really was nuts. Hearing my own laugh, I sure would’ve said I was.

I didn’t think she meant to lie, but they couldn’t offer me any more than the public school could back home. “You can’t keep the promises you made to me and my parents. You said so yourself. You can’t teach me anything,” I told her, unable to stop myself and with more than a little anger slipping into my voice that I couldn’t stop. I was losing my grip on my anger and I knew it. I was getting careless.

“Yes we can, just not in what you thought it would be.”

“No, you can’t,” I couldn’t help myself from saying, although I kept it soft. I wasn’t sure if she heard me or not, and I really didn’t care right then. Unfortunately, my caution was not what it should have been, thanks to me being so mad.

My intense anger and lack of caution came partially from the fact that with her statement, she also tried to lay the blame on my parents, who were lied to and manipulated. They would not have willingly sent me here, knowing what it was.

And I helped make it happen. I went back to that, because it was true.

“The country I love wouldn’t steal kids and use them against their will and their parents,” I couldn’t help but add a little louder, as she was leaving. Once the door closed, Aliyah sat down next to me.

“We all get that talk. I think you got it this soon because you asked where we are and they heard. I told you they listen.”

Aliyah continued trying to sooth me, thinking I was sad or something like that. She didn’t realize that I was fighting my immense anger, more anger than I think I’d ever felt. She hadn’t figured me out yet and couldn’t tell when I was upset or when I was mad. Right then, I was seeing red from the rage building up inside me and knew a headache was coming, maybe the worst one I’d ever had, considering how mad I was right then.

I’d learned to focus on something to try and control myself, when I got angry. If I didn’t, I’d get really bad headaches, which for worse the madder I got. So my eyes rested on a plug in the wall, staring at it with intense concentration, afraid that if I didn’t, I might break something or end up with the worst headache I’d ever had.

I’d felt this kind of anger before, but never this strong and intense. As that realization was going through my thoughts, I felt a kind of click inside my mind and got the odd sensation of energy, and a lot of it. I’m not sure why I thought it felt like energy, but I knew that was what it was.

Without warning, flames leapt from where the plug went into the wall. At the same time, my head felt like it exploded, pain shooting to every part of my body. This was definitely worse than past ones. It was probably the worst I’d ever had, just as I had feared.

Aliyah was up in an instant and heading for the door grabbing my hand as she went, dragging me along behind her. She drug me into the hall, and pulled the fire alarm as she went. I didn’t remember much of the trip, but I knew we ended up in some large corridor, with pipes and wiring running the length of it. She sat me on a pipe, which was at the perfect height to function as a bench for me, and went away.

What felt like hours later, she came back with Mr. Miller. He bent down, and looked into my eyes, trying to get my attention, which was hard because I could barely put two thoughts together. I couldn’t seem to focus on anything, other than the pain.

“Melanie. Look at me. Try and concentrate,” he said. I managed to barely focus on him for a little while, and then drifted off again, the pain totally consuming what thoughts I had.

“Aliyah, where did this happen, and how long ago?” I heard him ask her.

“It was in our room just before we left because of the fire.”

“Crap, there won’t be anything left now!” he exclaimed. “When you get back to your room, help clean her up, and get her to bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know what made her angry,” he suddenly asked her, as he was about to leave.

“Mrs. Wilde talked to her about asking questions.”

“I guess that could do it,” he mused, and walked away.

“What was all of that about,” I managed to ask her, through my sluggish thoughts and the pain. It seemed that my mind was beginning to work again, a little.

“You had an attack and he likes to see where it happened as soon as he can after it happens.”

“Why would he want to do that?” I asked, sounding funny to myself.

“I don’t know, but he always does.”

I’m not sure how long it was, but the bell rang three times, and everyone started heading back to their rooms. Every peal of the bell felt like a hammer pounding into my head, and it was beginning to touch my stomach as well.

Aliyah helped me get up and led me back to our room. Standing outside our room were the Headmaster, Mr. Miller and a man I didn’t know, not that I really knew anyone.

“Aliyah, what happened?” the Headmaster asked her, after a quick glance at me.

“Headmaster, we were sitting on Melanie’s bed talking and suddenly there were flames coming from the plug,” Aliyah replied.

“That is all?” he asked.

“Yes, Headmaster,” she replied. Why was he questioning her about an obvious electrical fire? Even though my mind was like mush right now, it didn’t make sense.

“What prompted her attack?” he asked her.

“Mrs. Wilde talked to her about asking questions and Melanie looked upset, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then she had the attack and the plug caught on fire right after. That’s all I remember, Headmaster,” she said.

“Thank you, Aliyah,” he replied.

“Mr. Ciansa, please arrange a new room for them and any provisions they need replaced,” he told the other man.

“Yes, sir,” the man replied.

“Mike, did you get everything you need?” he asked.

“I think so,” Mr. Miller replied, as the two of them walked away.

“Alright ladies. Come with me, please,” the man instructed us. Aliyah led me along, holding my hand, and following the man that I was pretty sure was a custodian or maintenance worker. We entered an area that looked less used, and stopped in front of another corner room.

“This is your new room, ladies. I gave you another corner room that only sleeps two. Thought you would like to keep it that way,” he said with a friendly smile.

I couldn’t help but react to that smile, memories of the last time I encountered a man doing that flooding into my mushy mind. I started sweating and the memories started flooding in again, and I couldn’t do anything to resist them this time. I felt tears running down my cheeks, as I stood there.

What was happening to me? I didn’t cry, yet I was crying all the time now, not even counting the times I was doing it deliberately.

“Give me your names, so I can register you to the room,” he said, but looked at me with obvious concern.

“I’m Aliyah Draper and my roommate is Melanie Brager,” Aliyah replied. Although my mind wasn’t working very good, I knew I saw shock on the man’s face, and he almost dropped his clipboard. He recovered quickly though, hiding his reaction as good as he could. I noticed though.

“This area hasn’t been used in a while, but it’s clean and functional. You’ll have clothing and supplies delivered within an hour. I know it’ll be past lights out, but you’ll be allowed a pass tonight and this will serve as your room check. If you like the isolation, this should prove very useful for you. There’s an emergency exit at the end of the hall that leads to the service corridor in the basement, should you decide you need it, and in case of emergency. There isn’t an alarm on it.” Once he was done, he left the room, looking back at me again, as though he knew me. For some reason I couldn’t figure out, it seemed like I knew him, or should. My mind was so messed up right then, I barely knew who I was, though.

Aliyah got a small towel and cleaned the blood off of me, which I didn’t know was there. Once done, she sat down beside me and we waited.

A short while later, Mr. Ciansa returned with a large box filled with clothing and school supplies, setting it down on the shared vanity. “Ladies, if there’s anything you need, let one of us know and we’ll get it for you. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Aliyah and Melanie,” he added, walking over to us and extending his hand.

I wasn’t able to control my emotions, or thoughts, and I suddenly thought of my new notes on that math website. Tears sprung into my eyes, yet again, knowing that I’d lost my second set of notes on it.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked. He withdrew his hand, again with a very concerned look.

“I had some work I’d been doing in my old room. They took my last notes when I got here and now I’ve lost my new ones,” I replied, knowing I sounded stupid.

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see if I can get them for you,”, he told me.

“Thank you,” I replied, calming myself down a little.

He then stuck his hand back out. We both shook his hand and as we did, he picked a stray hair from each of our shoulders. He made a show of dropping it to the floor, but neither appeared to leave his hands. Odd how I noticed little things like that, especially right then. What also caught my attention was that each hair was picked up with a different hand and the hand then went into his pocket before doing anything else. It was like I was missing the obvious stuff, but catching the odd little things that should have been missed.

The door closed behind him, leaving us to prepare for bed, and we were in bed and lights off within ten minutes. I sat in bed looking into the dark for a long time with my head pounding, thinking about the odd behavior of Mr. Ciansa and how he worded what he said.

Daddy always told me to think about how people said things and Mr. Ciansa said them in a very odd way, and he acted even odder. What was worse was that, for some reason, I still felt like I should know him, and that really bothered me.

As I sat there, I decided that it was time to start trying to figure out how to block my thoughts. Having been aware of the voices for a couple of years already, it was easy for me to listen and because I hated the skill, I quickly learned how to turn it off.

Learning how to block was totally different. I tried thinking about how I listened and what it took for me to do it. I thought about how I went about sending a probe into someone’s mind to listen to them. There had to be something I could do to stop them from entering my mind. I tried until I went to sleep, but didn’t figure anything out.