Boundless

1.31

"Deuteranopia," the doctor had said, sitting on the ground beside Andrew. "It's your superpower. It means you see the world a little different from most people. But many people see the way you do, though. It's no big deal."

It was a big deal for Xander Whittmore. He wanted the perfect child to follow his steps and take over the company he had fought so hard to build once he was retired. It was frustrating to know his wife was not likely to give him a biological heir, even though Abigail filled in the spot pretty well. The dream of a child of his never died, though, and he was thrilled when Andrew was born. He was also raging with fury when he found out he wasn't perfect.

"Why are you mad, dad?" young Andrew asked, holding his father's arm before he was shaken away. "It's okay! The doctor says it's not a big deal. I'm just a little different, but everyone is different. Emmy says no one's the same."

He was ignored, as per usual, so he just sat quietly, hearing the conversation.

"We'll get him a tutor. He needs to be home-schooled from now on. No one can know." Xander was pacing through the living room, lost in thought.

"Don't be silly," said Kate from the other side of the room. "You're making it a bigger deal than it is."

"He will be home-schooled!" he pressed. "It's already bad enough that the kindergarten teacher knows."

So, he stayed at home every day, studying with a young lady whose name he could never remember. His schedule was tight, but he didn't complain. He could attend a school with other kids only when he had successfully learned to pretend his eyes worked just like everyone's. But even then, he had little freedom. His bodyguard followed him everywhere.

Andrew could still recall the metal taste of blood in his mouth the first time he sneaked out of the house to meet his school friends. They were always bugging him to meet them outside school, and one day he did. But his bodyguard found out. It was the first and last time Andrew was caught sneaking out. It was also the beginning of his revolt and rebellion.

"Emmy?" he had asked one day, sitting at the edge of the kitchen table as he usually did when he was at Emmy's care. "Would you miss me if I ran away?"

She stopped halfway through making cookies for him. "What? Why would you run away?"

He shrugged. "I won't. Not unless father keeps trying to control my every move."

"You should just talk to him," she said, as she always did, as if she couldn't hear them yelling at each other at the dinner table every single night.

She hugged him, keeping her flour covered hands away from his black t-shirt. It was his father's idea that he dressed so monochromatically. Perhaps he thought all Andrew could see was black and white.

"If you ran away, your family would miss you very much. And so would I."

He scoffed. It was highly unlikely that his parents would miss their broken project. Much less would Abigail. All she felt towards him was resentment for stealing her place as father's priority. She could have all of it for all he cared. In fact, he wished she was the one under their father's scope.