Days passed by, people came and left. It didn't take long before Dylan accepted the place for what it was. He couldn't help but catch himself staring at the doctors, during lunch. Josh and the others would need to repeat themselves numerous times, as Dylan would be everywhere but his own head. When would it get better? Reach the happiness that Josh had, why was he like that? Should Dylan tell him the truth? Would he listen? No. Those doctors, "mama and papa" they have changed his world and his perspective. He wouldn't listen. He wouldn't see what they saw.
Dylan stood up wanting to leave but Fae interrupted him. Fae squeezes Dylan's shoulder "Yo Dylan, no time for zoning out. The fuck's wrong with you lately?" She scrumps her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Dylan looks at Fae. He gave a small smile. Not too visible but it's there. Just remembering how different their lives were. How playful it had been. How she had been there for him when he lost Melissa then. Dylan still lost Melissa. The smile faded away and he realized that it was gone. The Fae then was gone. He had to lose her. If he wanted her to survive, if they wanted to make it out. "Fae we can't talk. Not unless it's important. It's not like before in here and you know that", Dylan paused and looked into her eyes. Looking for a familiar look. "I'm sorry, Rapunzel. We can't be friends. Not in this hellhole." His lips folded into a line. He backed away slowly, and turned off in the other direction.
Fae stood there, crossed arms, watching as Dylan walked away.
For some reason walking down the hall, Dylan felt nervous. Something had been pulling on his gut. "18-8." A papa calls from behind. Papa Gregg stood before him, holding a clipboard, with a grimace smile that Dylan hated so much. He'd need to learn to love it. "It is time for our session. We still don't know what you have to offer." There's where the feeling came from. Dylan knew this would come. The forbidden test. Wait, Dylan was thinking of something. A memory was trying to push up to the surface. Why now?He was supposed to follow the doctor. He realised he had froze in his tracks. He started walking, not able to respond. Papa Gregg pushed a door open, and entered. Inside laid a gurney, and a table with intertwined wires connect to a helmet. A monitor on the side, with three flat lines. Dylan would bring those to life. "Take a seat, 18-8. This won't take long." Papa Gregg informed, with that smile. Dylan felt a cold shiver on the back of his neck. Was he about to get caught. Wait he remembered. That faraway memory. Dylan, three months ago had been rushing around getting ready for school, as the news channel played. "... moving onto more tragic news, a teenage boy, found deceased in a ditch by passing cars taking route 3 this afternoon. The boy's reason of death is unknown, as well as the cause of his death but we have the police investigating the scene and looking into his background. May the boy, Bobby Paulson rest in peace. Stay tuned for more information." A picture was displayed, a dark skinned boy, with a smile standing next to an older woman, with black curly hair and a bandana, folded around the top. The last time he'll laugh, cry or smile. But he lost himself before the day he died. He was gone the second they put him in that car. Oh no. No no no. Bobby. The boy that died a couple of months ago, could he be the same 10-9 that was at this institute? Was Bobby the boy Lamark spoke about? "Unknown death", Dylan knew exactly what had happened to him. That's because this was the same Bobby. Died because of bad behaviour. Dylan's gut wrenched and pulled. Was he— "18-8, take a seat", Papa Gregg instructed, taking Dylan out of his head. He had to think fast. He launched himself forward gripping tightly on Papa Gregg's arm. He tried to loosen from the grip, but Dylan's eyes had already glowed that bright green. Papa Gregg was under his control. "My strength is combat. I am a low threat." Dylan commanded, looking into the doctor's eyes. The pupils broken into liquid, dispersing and moving. Dylan let go, and memory came back. His eyes came back. He was conscious. "Right 18-8. All done. Training begins next week." Papa Gregg grabs the clipboard and starts writing as he left the room. Dylan sat on the gurney his eyes flickering around the room. He pulled at the loose skin on his finger nails as he realized what he'd just done to himself. He'd need to learn how to fight. Combat style, or else he might just be Dylan Pete, dead in a ditch. Next to Bobby and the other ghosts.
YOU ARE READING
Children of the New Dawn n-logy: Book 1 - Facilitated.
Fantasi"Walk in the world of those gifted, and live life as they do with what may be a curse. Years later, children have been diagnosed with strange abilities and live their lives serving for others. Forgetting and leaving their old selves in the past. Unt...
