Talented

Chapter one

Thank you for starting to read this story. I just came up with the idea, and started writing, hoping it would/will lead to something.

Pov Ava.

I looked out of the window of the classroom I was in. Most of my classmates were already outside, enjoying the last bits of summer that were left. 

It was not fair. I did not choose this talent. 

But I got this talent, and now I am following lessons on how to surpress them. 

I hate that. It is not like I don't want to ignore these instincts, but they are called instincts for a reason. They are a part of me, and I don't want to completely get rid of them. 

It is not like I killed somebody. 

Although I would know how to do it with the pen I was holding in my hand. It scares me. It shoudn't come that easy to me. Or to anyone. 

I follow my lessons with a few others with talents society can not accept. 

Why were we even born? Why doesn't evolution just filter out those bad talents? It would make my life so much easier if it did. 

I would be out there with the other kids. 

I might have even had some friends. 

But I have this talent. And I am on my own. 

My parents even see me as a miscarriage. I am the oldest of six kids, with parents with great talents. Of course my younger siblings where also blessed with great gifts, which are going to get them far and I am happy for them, but I want something like that as well. 

I want to be happy someday.

I looked at my teacher again. He was talking about some meditating stuff again, that should help us focus on shutting our talents down. He also always gives us exercises to do at home. I never do them. I got my talent for a reason. Maybe it will come in handy someday. 

I always look for ways to get a place for myself. I am probably going to become a self-defence teacher or something like that. I don't know what else I could do. Especially not because I don't want to end up with a job where I don't interact with other people at all. 

After what seemed like forever the lesson ended, and I followed the other unlucky ones out of the classroom. 

Once we got outside, the others got laughed at or bullied. No one ever pays attention to me. Giving me good attention makes you look like you are plotting with me, and trying to get on my bad side is dangerous, because you bring your own life in danger. 

I used to hate it a few years back. I wanted to have friends too. But now I appreciate being left alone. No one really cares about me, and I don't have to care about anyone. It makes life easier. Some of the most popular kids get a lot of attention from everyone, because everyone is attracted to their talent. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. They are always in the middle of a big group. I am happy I am not a part of that. 

I left the school, and went to the woods close to my house. I would be expected home for dinner, but no-one would really care if I don't show up. Why would they? There are five kids that are going to have a great future. Why would they care about the one that is practically cursed? 

In the woods, I went to my treehouse. I had build it when I was ten years old. There was an old rowing boat stranded in the river, that I had used to build the first parts. In the following seven years, I used all of the wood I could find, except branches and other things that came directly out of the woods.

In the treehouse, I had a collection of pillows and blankets and a little cabinet in which I kept my bow, arrows and knives. Thanks to my talent, I am absolutely not allowed to have those last three, but that is something others don't have to know. 

I practice with these weapons every day after school, and sometimes I even kill my own dinner and eat and sleep in my treehouse. It is the only place where I am truly happy, and where I can be myself. It is my save haven. 

Suddenly my phone started ringing. Why there was service in the middle of the woods, was and will always be a mystery to me. I picked up my phone, to see who would call me. No-one ever called me, because no-one cared to call me.

On the screen there was a three letter word: 

Mom 

I clicked it away. I did not want to call with that woman. She never called before, so why would she call now?

I placed my phone away again, but then it started ringing again. This time, another three letter word: 

Dad 

I decided to pick up the phone. 

'Hi?' 

'How dare you, just click your mother away when she is calling!'

'Well, I picked up the phone now. Why are you so desperate to reach me? 

'Where were you after school?' 

'The same place as always.' 

'And where may that be?' 

'In the woods, at the exact same place as I went the last seven years.' 

'Get home right now, young lady. You are in big trouble with the police.'

'What do you mean?' 

'We will continue this talk when you get home.' 

I wanted to say something else, but my father had already hung up the phone.

I grabbed my school stuff, and started making my way back home. 

And for my house, there indeed was a lot of police.  

edited 4-2-2022