Alyssa's Asylum

Never Wrong

Prologue:

They don't know me. They don't know who I am. They don't know my story. They don't know my secret.

All they see is a seventeen year old girl kneeling on the street, a bloody knife in my hand.

And the body of Christopher Smith at my feet.

His eyes were blue, a deep blue with a bright intensity. He was kind, sweet, and careful.

I was lucky to have him, they said.

But he had a secret, too. And I knew the secret. So I killed him. Call me mad, call me crazy, call me a lunatic.

Maybe I am.

But the Vigilants don't know my secret, so how can they blame me?

But how can I tell them what I know?

Why I killed him?

*

In school, they teach us about the Old Society, where murderers and robbers and psychopaths ran loose. They taught us about how the Vigilants came, and all of that changed. They told us how never to doubt the Vigilants's verdict and rule. They are like the police, they said, except stronger, more powerful, and more supreme.

They are never wrong.

I trusted them, fully and completely. I knew I would live in safety as long as I honored them.

But then I got my power.