Mind Games.

Chapter 1: Hello.

Being afraid is natural. For most people, anyways. It's never come as naturally to me as it does with most others, but then again, I'm totally different.
Before I get on with the story you're here to read, let me explain something to you; it's not my parents fault. They didn't keep me in the basement all my life. Don't feel sorry for me. I am the reason for my own imprisonment.
Ever since I was born, I was different. And by different, I don't mean bullied or hated. I mean, I could talk at the age of 6...months. I could walk by the age of 1 year. At 2 years old, I was solving 2000+ piece puzzles and 3rd grade level math equations. At age 4, I was writing essays on ancient Rome and learning about inertia and gravity. By the time I was ten, I was taking practice SAT's and working with advanced trigonometry and quantum physics.
As you can imagine, my parents were quite shocked. But they made their biggest mistake when they took me to a psychologist to have me tested when I was 3. He was baffled by my intelligence, and they went to the local papers about it. Well, local papers turned to local radio, turned to local news, turned to area news, turned to national news. When the FBI got wind of my advanced brain, they sent a few of their men to study me.
Now, you might be wondering what the FBI would want with a little girl, I'll get to that in a minute. But first, let's talk about my parents.
Robert and Mindy Chain had never done drugs. They didn't cheat or lie, or even swear. But they made the terrible mistake of giving life to me. After the FBI had studied me for six months, they had my parents shipped off to one of the Pacific islands. To this day, I still don't know their whereabouts, or if they're even still alive. Once they were out of the way, the FBI labeled me, 'A weapon of mass destruction.'
Now, back to what the FBI would want with a little girl. Well, the U.S.A is always searching for leverage over the other countries. They don't like not having the best weapons. They decided that I could be of great use for NASA's atomic bomb program. But they also realized that I could be used to the advantage of other countries if they ever found out about me. So they sent me to live with one of their best agents, who was given strict orders to keep me hidden from the outside world.
His name is Clark O'Malley, he was 32 when they sent me to live with him. He has a wife, Jean, and he's the closest thing to a father that I've ever had, besides my real one. I was put in his basement at the age of 3 and a half, and I was never allowed to go outside, but he would always come down once a day to talk to me and teach me about the world.
He liked talking to me about God, since he was born and raised Catholic, but I never really...registered it. I'd like to believe in God, I really would. But since the Catholic teachings say that animals have no souls and thus, cannot enter heaven, I find it hard to believe in heaven. We are, after all, animals ourselves.
He wasn't the only person who enjoyed teaching me things. His wife Jean loves to sing. As a child, when I found myself restless, she would come down and sing to me until my eye lids couldn't stay open another second. She taught me the beauty of music. The notes, the meaning, and even a few instruments. I know how to play the cello, the piano, the trombone, the bass and electric guitar, snare drums, the harp, and a few notes on the harmonica.
But of all the things they taught me, there was only one lesson I had asked for.
Clark started training me in the mixed martial arts when I was 6. He taught me self-defense techniques, and I was gifted a Wesson 35 when I turned 13. Although his superiors were against it, he told them that it would be wrong to deprive me of every luxury in life.
Although I was cut off from the world, the government frequently made trips to check my progress and speak with me. At the age of 14, a man came to show me the presidents book. There have only been 3 people besides the president who have seen the book since George Washington. I, am one of those people. This is another reason why they kept me locked up.
I know many of the nation's deepest secrets. Like, what really happened to Amelia Airheart, what's inside of area 51, everything. They believed that I would spill the secrets to children at a public school, who in turn would tell their parents, and so on. Clark was probably the best person I could have hoped for to be my guardian. He understands that I am a person, not just a, 'weapon of mass destruction.' He does his best to inform me on the politics of the outside world.
I've always been interested about what goes on outside my brick enclosure. When someone looks outside of my tiny window, all they can see is grass. But I see life.
The life of another world. One that is so close, but yet, so far. One that can never be mine. I can look, but I cant touch.
This was my life before my discovery. The house next door was vacant for two years after Mrs. Sandal died of heart failure, but a family moved in. A young family, with two little children, a dog, and a single mother.
About two weeks after they moved in, the little girl, she couldn't have been 7, was playing outside with the dog. It was a golden retriever. She threw a ball for him to fetch, but it flew too far and landed in front of my window. I had been reading my advanced technology text book, when I heard the bounce of the ball. I got up and went to the window, looking for what had made the noise. When I saw the red ball in front of the window, I opened it and slid my arm out to grab it. She came around the corner and saw me. She walked up without hesitation and said,
"Hi." I was taken back to hear such a high pitch voice. I just stared back.
"Hello." I whispered. She smiled.
"Do you live here?"
"Yes."
"How long have you lived here?" She asked with curiosity. That's when I said the stupidest thing,
"I've been in this basement since I was 3 years old." At the moment, I didn't see anything wrong with this statement. But I did the next day when Clark opened my door and sat down across from me.
"We're screwed, just screwed." I frowned and leaned on my elbows in front of him.
"How so?" I asked. He rubbed his balding head with his index finger and his thumb.
"Alice, did you tell that girl next door that you've been down here since you were 3?" He asked, looking up at me. The dots finally connected in my head, and I bit my lip, nodding.
"I'm sorry. She caught me off guard."
"Well, now the papers know. The FBI is doing what they can to silence them, but..." He trailed off. We both knew this meant I would have to go out into the world. Something the FBI had done their best to avoid. I sighed and nodded at him.
"What's the plan?"
You know how the government keeps tabs on everyone's phones? Well, this is one case where it paid off.
When the little girl's mother called the police, the national security was able to pick it up and alert Clark before anyone could suspect him. As for the newspapers, the story they got was that my crazy father had locked me up and that I was on my way to grandparents in Louisiana. Why they chose Louisiana, I couldn't tell you. Clark and Jean helped me pack my bags.
In all actuality, Clark was taking me to Washington DC to what he refers to as, 'the big boss.' I had met, 'the big boss,' only once, but he wasn't very pleasant. While the other agents talked to me like a person, he spoke to me like I was an old car that wouldn't start. But I was used to people undermining me.
Clark packed his bag and sighed, holding my hand next to the door to the basment.
"Alice..." He sighed. I looked down.
"Yes Clark?"
"This is the first time you've been outside since you were 3..." He trailed off again. I smiled and squeezed his hand.
"I'll be ok, I promise you." He took a deep breath, nodded, and opened the door. I looked at the wooden stairway in front of me. The world above was awaiting my arrival.
I took a small step up the first step. Creak. Another small step. Creak. When I reached the top, the window curtains were closed. I looked around the house I had never really seen in the 15 years I had lived there. And I knew that once I stepped out of the house, I wouldn't be coming back. Ever. We stopped in front of the door. I closed my eyes and took a deep, long breath. Meditation, clear the mind. Clark smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes sinching up. I know he isn't my real father, but his smile still brought me comfort. I know mine brought him comfort as well. He set a hand gently on my back and nodded.
"Are you ready for this?" He set his other hand on the knob. I nodded slightly and looked at the door.
"Seeing as how I have no other choice, I am ready, Clark." I replied. He smiled again.
"That's my Alice." He turned the knob and opened it, letting in light beyond imagining. And not just from the sun.
News reporters from all over the country were squeezed on the front lawn, cameras flashing. They shoved cameras in my face.
"Are you hurt?!"
"How do you feel about the outside world?!"
"Do you understand us?!" They threw question after question at me. I politely no-commented past them and made my way to Clark's bauniville convertable. Clark set our bags in the trunk, also avoiding the press. Before I got in the car, I looked down at something I haven't felt in forever; grass. It looked greener than ever now. I bent down and picked up one piece, holding it between my fingers. It was smooth. Smoother than I had dreamed. I smelt it. It was sweet. A woman in a black suit with a camera man following her every step walked up and put a microphone to my face.
"Hey, what's your name?" She smiled expectantly at me. I slid my eyes up to meet hers.
"Alice Chain." And this is my story. It's not for pity, or for fame. It's not about vengeance or hatred. But about a whole other journey.
It's about my college experience. The people I've met, and the undeniably terrible secret I discovered, during my time there.

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Hey guys! It's my 3rd book on wattpad so far! Hopefully you will enjoy it, please do, because that's why I write these stories! Thank you, bye until the next chapter! :D