Anomalous

Anomalous (1)

Hey readers. This is just something I'm experimenting with. Tell me what you think

Prologue 

W.H.O report on genetics and anomalous human abilities: 

A.H.A (anomalous human abilities) is caused by a recessive gene. When the recessive gene from one parent matches up with the same recessive gene from the other parent the offspring will have unusual abilities. As different strains of A.H.A are carried on different chromosomes the chances for the recessive genes pairing up is unlikely and very rare. Only one in twenty million people will have A.H.A and of those few only it is believed that less than 0,1% will have inherited more than one ability. It is still unclear as to which combinations of genes lead to which abilities. Very little is known about A.H.A at this moment but studies continue to progress in laboratories around the world with over two thousand A.H.A patients participating in case studies.

Chapter 1 

In a dry deserted park sat a young man on a creaky swing. He stared out into nothing as he slowly brought a lit cigarette to his full lips. He inhaled deeply, tilted his head back and exhaled slowly as if savouring the sensation. The swing next to him swayed gently in the light breeze and the sun bore down on his back, browning the back of his neck further. He lifted his lean tanned arm towards his lips again and repeated the inhale-exhale exercise he had been practicing since he was fourteen. The black rubber bands around his wrist slipped down his arm as he wound it on the thick metal chain of the swing, using it to pull his tall frame up into standing position. He knew it was time to make his way back home and so he set off on his solitary journey down the hill. It was always a solitary journey, just as his life had always been and would probably always be a lonely existence. There was no denying that James Walker was handsome but he was an anomaly - and people feared the unknown. They had given him a wide berth and he had been left to his own devices. He had long since given up hope of any form of companionship other than that of a pet. His tanned skin, dirty blonde James Dean hair, steel -grey eyes flecked with green, sensuous lips and chiselled features had drawn the attention of many people. Yet the fascination that surrounded him was not strong enough to deter the fear that most people had felt towards him. For the past two years he had played up the bad boy image, having tired of trying to prove to people that their fear was irrational. He quit the swimming team, wore ripped denims, pierced his eyebrow, smoked in public - all things he had always wanted to do but never did in fear of being scrutinized further.  

He reached his block but stopped at the corner when he noticed a black Mercedes E-class. He knew what this meant and although every fibre of his being begged him to turn around and go back to the park he knew he would have to face them sooner or later. 

The sun lit her eyelids a warm red shade and the sounds of the engine surrounded her. She felt stuffy and sticky from her long flight. Her body was near collapse because of lack of sleep brought on by discomfort and nerves. The life she always wanted waited for her past the immigration officers. She had waited eighteen years for some freedom and she felt as if she had finally achieved it. She got her passport stamped and she collected her large black suitcase and walked towards a pair of sliding doors. She paused, feeling wary. She took in a deep yoga-style breath and tried to find her calm centre before she walked out into the bustling airport. Zia hated the crowdedness and noise of the airport so she continued to do her yoga breathing while she searched the crowds for a familiar face. A lady with ebony hair and russet skin waved her over and a smile broke Zia's apprehensive expression. The lady looked almost identical to Zia's mother except for the few subtle differences- the tenderness and lack of disdain in her eyes, the smile that greeted Zia, the welcoming expression and body language worn by her- that set her apart from her sister, Zia's mother. She was greeted with a warm sincere hug like one she had not received since that day. Zia thought a lot about that day. A lot changed that day. She used to think it was all her fault, that was certainly the way her mother made her feel, but after all the tests she knew the truth. Even though she knew the truth her mother never could accept her again. On that day she got her first period and it happened for the first time. Since then she had gained control over it. They referred to them as Metamorphosed pheromones. She had learnt in the past few years - not to hate who she was but rather who they were for she knew what they had done to the people who had no control over their own genetics was cruel. 

He ran his hand through his hair in a somewhat beaten manner and opened the large mahogany door inlaid with, in his opinion, tacky stained glass. He walked into the green and white sitting room with an apprehensive gait. They being here was never a good thing and he knew that something was different for this "visit". His mother sat in a pale green armchair looking the image of the perfect housewife. Her hair was pinned in perfect curls and her finger waves looked as if they had been chiselled that way. She wore a pair of beige slacks and a white blouse with a string of perfect pearls and a hostess smile. On the matching loveseat sat two men, one broad and hulking and the other tall, lanky and slightly grey, drinking tea out of dainty pink bone china cups that looked infinitely more fragile in their powerful hands. 

"I thought we were done for the week." James spat bitterly. He was seething with resentment and he did not bother to hide his feelings. He could feel patronizing waves of manner roll of them and towards him. They knew that he could do nothing for they controlled him through his own mother and father. 

"We're not here to take you to the lab for tests" the burly one replied sullenly. 

"We're here to take you to a facility where you will be staying," finished the older one in a crisp matter of fact manner. James could hardly believe the situation he was now in and he knew that he had no choice. Fury bubbled within him but he had learnt a long time that rash actions led him nowhere. He gave his mother one last incredulous glare before stalking out of the house.

Ok well tell me what you think by commenting and voting and if I get lots of those I will continue with it.