Beautiful Strangers

 

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Chapter 1

I am a water nymph in the desert. I am a fairy without wings. I am a dragon who can’t create fire. I am unequivocally and entirely different. I have been my whole life but it wasn’t until I was 16 that I knew why.

The warm wind rushed across my body in comforting waves. It seemed to hold me in a tight embrace. It seemed to say that I would always be safe as long as I stayed there with it. I opened my eyes again to see the country zooming by beneath me. The world is the most beautiful thing when you are not a part of it, when you’re not part of the awful population, those who would tear a person to pieces just because they were slightly different. I didn’t care about any of them now. Now I was with the wind. I had the entire world at my feet to admire. Just when I felt perfectly at peace for the first time, my alarm went off.

I awoke to a darkness so thick I was certain that I would soon choke on it. I slammed my hand down onto that horrid plastic monster that stole me from paradise and pulled me back into this hell. Just then the darkness was penetrated by a blinding light.

“Wake up girls!” Margaret shouted. “And best wish Sam a happy birthday.”

Oh shit. I thought as my eyes tried to adjust to the sudden change in light. I was still trying to make out the other bunk-beds on the other side of the room, when a very loud, high pitched, little girls voice was ringing through the room.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAMMY!” Elle squealed from the bunk above mine. That forced me awake. I reached for my glasses out of habit when I realized I didn’t need them. I looked around amazed at how well I could see. My hands shot to my face to make sure that I hadn’t just forgotten to take them off last night but no. I looked at the side of my bed and sure enough they were there in their case. I looked around again this time looking carefully at all the details of the room. They were sharp and clear. I could see better than I ever could with my glasses. I could see every thread in the carpet and every thread in the blankets on the beds across the room. The whole world was an HD movie and I could see every detail.  I was trying to wrestle with the insane truth when Margaret's voice brought me back to the land of the living.

“Sam if you want any breakfast I suggest getting it now before the others devour it.” She called sweetly. I got up and raced to the table. I was the last to arrive, which meant I had to grab whatever food was left quickly before it got snatched away. I still wasn’t used to homes like this. I was used to small foster families not this home for wayward youth. I wasn’t used to living in this sea of people. Even though this was the smallest orphanage in the state with only eighteen kids on average, it seemed always be swarming with people. There was a constant flow of doctors, nurses, care takers, hopeful parents to be, and disappointed couples leaving when they can’t find that special little child to make their world complete. Despite having lived here for the past year, this endless river of people still made me nervous. I ate my breakfast remembering the day I first arrived, exactly one year ago.

***

“Samantha, this is only a temporary placement. We’ll have you back in nice houses as soon as we can but with your record it’s becoming difficult to find places to take you.” I nodded. “I mean it, Sam. Can you at least attempt to make a good impression this time?” I turned away from watching the rain out of the car window, to look at my social worker.

“I always do. The things that happened in the houses were accidents.” Dent rolled his eyes.

“Really?” He scoffed “All 14 of them.” I sighed turning back to the rain, knowing that I was fighting an uphill battle and it would really just be easier for him to think of me as some juvenile delinquent. “That’s what I thought.”

As we pulled up to a stone building that looked as if it had been made centuries ago, Dent announced; “Welcome to Jefferson’s home for wayward youth.” Translation, Welcome to your home for the next three years because no one will take you. I thought. We ran through the downpour to the front door. Dent had to ring the doorbell four times before anyone answered.

“Oh you must be Mr. Dent. I heard you were coming.” Said a kind looking woman with long auburn hair pulled back into a bun. Her rectangular glasses about to fall off her noise. “And you must be Samantha. Oh Dear me come in, come in. Let’s get you out of that horrid rain.” She stood aside holding the door open wide to allow us to enter. I looked around taking in everything. It seemed as if it used to be clean and organized, but had long since left that by the wayside. Children’s toys lined floor of the hall leading to what might be a kitchen at the end of the hall. Drawings and crayons littered across the stairs that I could only guess led to the rooms.

“Well Samantha, my name is Margaret. I’m so glad you’ll be living with us for a while. Let’s go ahead and get you situated.” I nodded politely and followed her up the treacherous staircase. I was afraid I would step on a forgotten crayon or pencil and fall back down the stairs. Margaret led us to a room at the top of the stairs. Upon opening the door a cacophony of sound exploded. I was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of different people, laughing, playing, drawing, and generally being children. I abruptly turned to Dent looking him right in the eye half expecting to be let in on the big joke. He had his eyes were locked on Margaret. No part of him suggested that he was in fact kidding. I turned my gaze back to the room in front of me.

There were six sets of bunk beds that lined the wall to my left. They reminded me of pictures of army barracks only more colorful. However the line of beds was the only thing bearing any resemblance to the army. The room was in shambles. There were children and toys everywhere. The overwhelming sound like a herd of elephants on stampede could be heard throughout the building Three years. Three years and I would be eighteen and could be out on my own. No more foster homes. No more orphanages. I could be free to move when I felt the urge. When the houses became cramped and the places old. I could move on. I could follow the wind to my hearts content. Until then, I had to wait. Three more years in captivity. Three years in this Jefferson’s home for wayward youth. That is only if I could stop it from happening again.

***

It was today. The changing, as I called it when I was younger. Every year on my birthday it would happen and I’d be sent away again. It happened every single year on my birthday without fail. No one ever wanted me to stay after. They called me freak, thing, dangerous. The wanted me gone that day. Most wouldn’t even let me stay a single night longer. This led to many nights in Mr. Dent’s house because I had nowhere else to go. He’d come and get me again today. He always did. After the sixth house he stopped asking what happened. He knew the only answer he would get would be ‘They just don’t want me anymore.’ It held true. No one wanted me. I was just passed on to the next family with cries of ‘Get this demon out of my house!’

I looked down the breakfast table at the more or less happy children, competing for who would get the fresh strawberries, and least burnt toast. They were smiling and laughing, as they fought. Despite the constant flow of people and the ever constant noise, I had grown to like this place. It was hard to know that I was leaving tonight.

With my departure hanging over my head I couldn’t stomach much breakfast. So I gave mine to the boy next to me who had lost the fight with the others and had ended up with black toast and day old honeydew melon. He thanked me with a wide smile and quickly dug in.

Not long after I left the dining hall, I was on my way to what would be my last day in this school. The only good thing that came from my constant changing of families is that I never had to stay in bad schools for long.

 

While this school wasn’t bad in the educational sense, there was something that felt wrong. I have hated this school since I first walked in. Everything from the walls that might have once been white and the tiled floor that was almost always covered in litter, to the teachers who had all clearly given up at ever finding happiness in their profession, and the students whose class picture should be placed in the dictionary next to the word stereotype. I have been to many schools before, ten to be exact, and none of them have ever felt this fake. It feels like someone watched a few sitcoms about high school to create this perfectly average school. Even I seemed to have been taken into account when covering all the stereotypes. The only one missing from the school when I showed up was ‘The distant loner.’ The one that never really fit in with anyone. So when I came there it was the perfect tv show sitcom school. After years of moving from one place to another I didn’t tend to make many friends. It wasn’t because I didn’t want them but because after it happened anyone who had been my friend would call me freak and never speak to me again. I stopped trying to make friends when I was 9 it hurt less when I didn’t care about them.

As I stepped through the entrance that day I realized something was different. Like with my eyes this morning, my ears had become stronger. I could hear the cheerleader tell the jock that “Amber totally slept with David last night.” while they were at the other end of the hall. I could hear every breath taken by the students as they carried on with their perfect lives.  I could hear every heartbeat of every person that filled the halls. Yet, even with my hearing that had somehow increased to superhuman between the orphanage and school, I couldn’t hear the buzz of electricity that should have buzzed through the walls. While I could here everything from the living population, the school itself was strangely quiet.  The overwhelming noise crashed against my eardrums, splitting my head in two leaving every inner thought bear to the world. It took everything I had not to fall to my knees in the middle of the hallway. My hand shot out to find something to keep me from falling.

    “Watch it.” Said the owner of the shoulder I had just grabbed. “Hey, are you ok?” They continued as I swayed on my feet and everything went black.

When I awoke I was lying on a hard plastic surface. The noise was still there but it didn’t seem to be as overpowering. I seemed to be able to focus it. I heard what I wanted nothing more, but if I let my concentration slip the noise would come back in full force and attempt to rip out my brain. I lay there with my eyes closed, not waiting to take in the extra stimulus that I knew it would bring, and focused on only listening to the things closest to me. That’s when I heard it.

“It’s her. We knew it was. We should take her now while she’s out.” Said a high female voice.

“We can’t be sure. There can’t be any doubt. I will not have him kill me because you were  hasty. It took us 15 years to find her. You can wait a while longer. Lafwa isn’t here and if is her, she will come.” Another voice answered. It was male, deep, and extremely familiar.

“It’s her! She’s showing. This is when we should act. Before Lafwa arrives, while we still can. When she comes we’re dead.” The female voice responded. Before I could hear anything else my focus slipped and the a world of sound fell on me. I couldn’t help but cry out in pain.

“Samantha, are you alright? Focus on my voice. Only my voice. Can you hear me?” The male voice asked. I nodded as the noise faded. “Can you open your eyes? Can you look at me?” I nodded again, before taking a deep breath and opening my eyes to find myself face to face with the same chocolate eyes that stared at me every year and with the same question in them that was there now ‘What happened, Samantha?’ He doesn't ask it and he doesn't need to. Dent just ran a dark hand over his bald head and sighed.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“You are a ward of the state. I am your social worker. When there is a problem they call me. You should know this by now. Today being the third I was waiting for a call. Imagine my surprise when instead of the typical screaming accusations, I was told you had fainted. What happened Samantha?” I stared at the man in front of me. I had seen him every year. He had taken from house to house, and let me stay with him when everyone else would have thrown me out. This was the only man who has never called me freak, or demon. The only man who still held my trust. This was also the man I had just heard saying such strange things. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what happened until I knew what he meant.

“Dent, what is happening? I don’t understand.”

“Calm down Samantha. You’ll understand soon enough. Just calm down and I’ll take you home.” There was something about what he said that felt wrong, but with all the noise that was running through my head, I couldn’t focus enough to figure out what it was. The ever growing ocean of sound crashed over me, as I was forced back into the blackness.

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