I'm one of two not genetically modified at birth. Because of that, I've been on the run my whole life. I've got talent--Quick feet and good looks, I'm pretty lucky. My mom died when she gave birth to me. And my dad didn't stick around once he learned my mom was pregnant. Since you can't be on the run when you're a year old, some nice lady with a kid of her own took me in and helped me out a bit. But by the time I was four, the nice lady died in the night. Me and the other kid were split up by the evil dudes, one of the guys took me away, realized I wasn't the right kid and just dropped me in the middle of a green, poppy-filled field. I've always wondered if the other kid made it out alive.
I can't remember what she looked like, I was too young. But I'm pretty sure she was normal, and by that I mean genetically modified. I wonder if she's still on the run... Or maybe she turned herself in since she's probably genetically modified and won't get in trouble for anything. Who knows? My only goals are to keep causing trouble, and stay beautiful.
Speaking of beautiful, I should probably explain just how beautiful I really am. I am tall (not ok with the government), have long, dark blonde hair (not ok), no freckles (government be like, "GET SOME FRECKLES BOY!"), and I have deep blue eyes (also not ok). Anyway, I'm clearly good looking, just not in the government's opinion.
It's the middle of the day and I'm bored as heck. I'm done thinking, I've reached my capacity of thinking time, it's over between us. Anyway, I wander through the grassy meadows I know so well-they've only been my home for 11 years after all- and see something I've never seen before in this part. I see something I haven't seen since eleven years ago.
I see a girl-a human.
But the thing is, her hair is not blond. Like, at all. And that tiny fact is life changing.
This girl is just sitting in the middle of my grassy field without a care in the world. She's got her legs crossed, as though she's-dare I say it-MEDITATING. Her back is facing me so I can't notice any other traits besides her hair color. And, she doesn't know I'm here.
I slowly walk towards the girl, hoping she's not some psychopath trying to kill me who just dyed her hair dark brown to trick me into believing that she is another unedited
person-but really, she's blonde and working with the government to track me down. Isn't that a nice thought?
I don't think she can hear me, because she's not turning towards me or showing any acknowledgement of me being there, so I continue walking in her general direction.
YOU ARE READING
The Unusuals
Science-FictionI wrote this in 7th grade, so there are a few cringey parts but I do think it's really good other wise. Also, there was a word limit so it's a fairly short read. This is a dystopian novel about genetically editing humans with a fair portion of roman...
