Psyche

Chapter 1

It was dark, but not pitch black. The tall buildings cast shadows across the ground, shielding whatever was behind them from the dim light that peeked through the clouds. An alleyway was one of the darkest places at this time of day, and the darkness cloaked the struggle that went on within it.
The boy crouched against the wall with his little sister, trying to make himself bigger to cover her, but also desperately trying to stay out of view. He peeked around the corner of the dumpster he hid behind to watch as two police officers held his parents down. They pushed and swore, but could not go free from their handcuffs. He did not know why his parents were being arrested, as he always believed they were good people. Most felt the same way. 
Tears welled up in his eyes as the officers struggled to get them into the vehicle, and he couldn't take it any longer. He jumped up from the dumpster and raced over to his parents, calling for them. He hugged his father's leg, only to be kicked off by the uniformed man holding him down and ordered to scram. His father looked at him with a calm look that only he could do in a time like this. 
"Go, Alec. It's okay. I'll see you again soon, but you need to run. Find Cyril. It's going to be okay." His father's voice was calm, but it was evident that it was a mask to hide the fear he truly felt. He didn't want to worry his son.
"D-Daddy! No!" Alec sobbed. He tried to get to his father again, but was shoved away yet again and knocked to the ground. His younger sister, Kate, stood up from her hiding spot and ran over as well. They were both upset, and reaching for their parents. Their mother was the first to be forced into the vehicle, followed by their father. In retaliation, Alec ran towards the officer in a fit of fury, terror, and sadness. He punched at his leg, demanding their release. 
Of course, he didn't get what he so desperately wanted. The large man grabbed him and forced him away from the vehicle, and Alec fought his grasp with every ounce of might he could muster. He kicked, punched, squirmed, everything he knew how to do as a seven year old, but to no avail.
"I'll make you join them if you don't stop putting up this fight, kid!" The officer warned. Alec only kicked more, screaming for his parents. The officer's partner only watched, clearly irritated, and wanting to leave. 
Alec only began to slow down his movements when a strange, heat-like sensation began in his brain. It started out subtle, but grew within seconds. His kicks slowed down, and he began to shake his head instead, his eyes squeezed shut. The two men and his sister looked at him, confused at his sudden change in behavior. 
The heat continued to build up more and more, becoming a blinding headache before it finally released in a bright explosion of energy, and a pained shriek from the small boy. The man holding him immediately let go and collapsed to the cement ground, writhing as though he were having a seizure. He did not get back up. 
Alec dropped to his knees, his head throbbing as he felt something snap across his skin. Purple cracks webbed across the left side of his nape, and stung like a bunch of paper cuts. They didn't bleed, but hurt nonetheless. He quickly placed his hand over the wound, covering it on instinct.
The other officer present there panicked, jumped into the driver's seat, and sped off. His sister waddled over to him hastily, with hopes her brother was okay. He stood up with a sniffle, and faced her tear-stained face. 
"Mommy...?" She asked, hoping for some form of reassurance. Alec shook his head. 
"We need to run, Kate," He told her. He sounded pained, and Kate began to cry again. Alec gave her a quick hug before he took her hand and ran out of the alleyway, his blubbering sister trailing behind him. His head slowly stopped throbbing, and while it still wasn't the most clear, he went to where his father told him to go. All he could hope is that he would see them again.

That was over ten years ago. 

"Alec!" The sudden call of his name snapped him out of his trance. He had zoned out again, but what else was there to do in some boring English class? He looked up at his disappointed teacher with a blank expression.
"Yeah?" He replied. Mr. Evans, his senior English teacher, shook his head. 
"On the second page of the article, what rhetorical device does the author use in the second paragraph?" He asked him. The exasperation was clear in his tone. Alec looked down at his laptop screen, scrolling down to where his teacher had mentioned and skimming the paragraph.
"Uh, alliteration?" He guessed. His teacher glared at him, angry he had failed at catching him off guard. Instead of confirming he was right with words, he simply moved on to someone else with a different question. Alec propped his head on his hand with a sigh. The next person who answered his question could care less about it too, much like the rest of his peers. Not only that, but Evans wasn't a favorite teacher for anybody, really. Most believe he's too stuck-up, and that his teaching style is too old-school. 
After he lectured for a few more minutes, the class moved on to another article. He sent the link out to everyone electronically, which was customary in today's world. It was normal. Almost everything was electronic now, since everything was rebuilt. Passing out papers was a very, very rare occurrence. 
Alec opened the link, and instantly felt his stomach sink. Another biased article about his own kind: Telkies. They're so unknown and rare, yet so feared, and Alec was one of them. 
Watch out for the purple eyes, the article warned. Or they will take control of you. Alec's stomach churned with discomfort. He looked up and scanned the others in the room, and saw they were all reading intently. He let out a small sigh, relieved nobody's eyes were on him. He brought a hand up to his eyes, checking to make sure his brown colored contacts were in place, hiding their true purple color. Sure enough, they were. As a secondary precaution, he pulled up the collar of his turtleneck sweater. The cracks from that night never healed. 
The class finished reading, and Alec stood up, walking out of the classroom with a sense of urgency. He did not want to be present during the discussion that would follow, and thankfully, Mr. Evans did not stop him or ask where he was going. 
He wandered about the halls, looking out the large glass windows to distract himself with the view of the city. It never truly got old seeing the skyscrapers that touched the clouds, the people milling about down below, the cars speeding along and heeding traffic laws. It looked organized, clean. A major difference compared to the civil war that had happened mere decades ago. It was a topic he's had to learn about numerous times throughout his years in school: how politics divided the nation and broke out into violence, how there were so many riots, and so much more. Truth be told, the government hadn't changed too much, but there were stricter laws to keep those in power under control. 
However, politics wasn't what people worried about as much anymore. Instead, the hatred stemmed from the telkies. Every news outlet and everything was biased against them, and it's legal to discriminate or even lynch them since they are not considered human. That fact often keeps those like Alec awake at night, and is the reason why he must hide himself. 
He shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind, and camped out in the restroom for the remainder of class. Thankfully, English was his last period of the day.