Life sometimes isn't what you want it to be. I had learned that early on, when I was still little more than a child. Through the years I had come to accept I was different, but after the night of my twenty-first birth, I realized just how different I truly was.
The day had started out like any other, intense study followed by a severe headache. They had been growing worse recently, and as I left my desk chair behind and walked through the small hallway to the bathroom I feel face first. The warm carpet cave my face little support. Before I even landed I cried out, surprised at the blinding pain that rushed through my head. This wasn't normal, nor good.
When my head hit the ground the pain became worse. It was as if an explosion had ripped through my skull, filling my mind with a pain as sharp and real as any I had ever felt before. For a moment I just lay there, my face plastered to the beige carpet. As I tried to get up my mother's shrill cry cut through my confusion, and filled my ears.
"Stephen don't get up," she called to me.
I heard her feet race against the carpet and a moment later I felt a hand grab the back of my arm. Instead of listening I pushed myself up to my feet, my hands wrapping around my temples. I looked at my mom and gave her my best grin, or at least I hoped it was my best. In fact I must have looked like a complete idiot, my grin little more than a forced response to my stupidity.
My mother studied my face for a moment, her eyes growing wide as she looked me over. She then leaned in, and smelled my breath. "You've been studying too much," she said, a hint of anger in her voice.
I shook my head, and tried to find an excuse but the searing pain had apparently washed away any clever thing I had to say. Instead I just grinned again, and stood in the middle of the hallway.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see my sister Toby poke her head out from her room, and smile at me before returning to her room.
Thanks sis, I thought as my attention returned to my mother.
She was beautiful, her brown eyes nearly glowing as she met mine. I had never noticed the few freckles that dotter her soft skin, her blonde hair falling in ringlets that clung to her shoulders. She smiled at me, then shook her head and placed the back of her hand atop my forehead.
"I don't want to hear an excuse mister. You need to sleep, medical school can wait till tomorrow."
I hated to argue with my mother. Since my dad had died when I was six it had just been us, and my two sisters Toby and Noelle. We had grown rather close over the years, and in many ways I was the man of the house. I fixed the plumbing, and mowed the lawn, while protecting them the best I could. Like I said before I was weird. Weird enough to turn down a scholarship from John Hopkins to attend Sacred Soul, a local medical school that would allow me to live off campus, and help support my family. I didn't mind the decision of course, but how could I explain to my mom that next week was perhaps the most important week of my life. If I didn't do well on these upcoming tests I was royally screwed.
Instead of trying to mount a defense, I just shrugged my shoulders and nodded. "I guess I've been working hard," I said in a meek tone. I shot my mom a smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She smiled back at me and said, "Just try and sleep for tonight. You'll have the entire weekend to study. Maybe you can even call Alexis, she is such a nice girl."
I took a deep breath and shook my head. Even after a year hearing the ex's name still hurt, and although I would never admit it to a living soul I did really miss her.
"I don't think so mom," I said before turning around and heading back to my room. My mom said nothing as I went, but I could feel her eyes watching me, sadness growing on her beautiful face.
Later that night I felt the pain in my mind return. Like a searing poker it dug into my brain, washing away whatever dream world my mind had created. In a second my eyes where open, and my heart was racing; I tried to move from my bed, but my body refused to stir. It was as if I was glued to my bed, frozen in a state of growing anxiety.
"I'm begging abducted," I growled, low enough I hoped only I could hear my stupid joke.
Sadly, I wasn't the only one that heard. A shadow shifted from the corner of my bed, and a second later a man in a bright blue robe appeared at the foot of my bed. Hanging over his head was an orb of soft orange light. It spun around and radiated the strange light into every corner of my room.
"Why does everyone say that?" the man asked, a quizzical look on his weathered face.
I tried desperately to move, to attack the intruder in any way possible, but I couldn't. I was trapped in my own bed, as some sick freak prepared to do whatever he wanted.
I wish I had been abducted,
I thought, my breath catching in my lungs.
The man stared at me for a moment, then brought up a finger and flicked the side of his large, hooked nose. His bright blue eyes grew wide, and for a moment the man's bottom lip trembled slightly enough I wasn't sure I had seen it.
"Your one of the Gifted my friend," the man said. He took a step to the side of my bed, leaned closer to me and smiled. The expression looked strange on his face as if it was both foreign and a little forced.
"You just don't know it," the stranger added, before taking another step and placing his hand atop my arm. "I can feel it, the power coursing through your veins. Tell me, how long have you had headaches? A week, a month?"
For a moment I just stared at the man, trying to figure out what was happening. If this guy was going to kill me, or do anything worse he was certainly struggling. It seemed almost like he wanted to sit down and have a conversation with me.
"For a while," I said softly. Admitting the man was right about something didn't feel right, but what other choice did I have. For some reason I knew that if I lied he would have been able to find the truth.
