Dear Journal (not diary because diary sounds like a child's toy),
Hi! My name is Cecily. Last name? Wouldn't you like to know. Well, so would I. For all I know I don't have one other then the nasty words that the other students use to rhyme my name with. But I do know that my name was one that belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother. I know that my parents left me at this school for "special" children in England somewhere hidden away from civilization. Apparently I was found on the steps late at night with a note taped to my blanket I was wrapped in. Actually I have it right here, it reads:
This is Cecily. She is a beautiful and happy baby born on July 20th. She will be a year old soon. Please take her in as she is one of you. She can not know of who we are and the world I was exposed too. Or come anywhere close to New York City. Please raise her to have a bright future. Thank you and tell her that her father and I are very sorry.
Sincerely,
Her mother
Really! Drop your child off at some mental institute saying that you love her? How can some mother do that to her child? Her own flesh and blood. Some love she had for me and same goes for my father. Didn't see him stopping her from ditching me and leaving me here at hell on Earth.
Otherwise known as the Institute of Knowledge for Gifted Children.
What are they gifted in? Making my life a living hell. Except for Andrea. She was my only friend but we never had classes together. Students were sorted into different groups. I was high ranking as I was apparently intelligent and skilled. Andrea was in the second lowest ranking group but not because she wasn't smart but she was talented in working with her hands on equipment.
I was in the fighter category. The students were mean and aggressive as they were all guys except for me. All the girls were in the department for equipment or talent in seeing. What? That's what I want to know. Everyone here they....they all hide a secret. Even Andrea. It seems like they all have some group secret I don't belong in. And it was annoying how they always looked at me as if I was fragile when I asked them.
One thing I hate is when people think just because I'm a small framed, sixteen year old girl that so happens to be blonde, that I'm fragile and can't learn the truth or handle myself. NOT TRUE!!!! I am just as tough as any guy in my entire class, and could handle myself quiet well if I was attacked. I am.....
"CECILY!!!!!" My hand jerked as the pen left a trail of black ink across the neat lines of writing. The scream came again, "CECILY!!!!!"
Slamming the worn leather notebook down on my unmade bed I ran from the cramped attic that I considered a room. Only to discover a horrific scene outside the door. Dark red stained the hard wood floors smeared all the way down the stairs. Following the trail down the stairs to the kitchen door, I heard the scream again, "CECILY!!!!!"
With enough force to kill a man, I pushed the door in to swing on it's hinges. As I searched the kitchen for a lifeless body or someone bleeding to death, a voice screamed, "NOW!!!"
Too bad my cat like reflexes where on vacation because as I stood in the doorway, the same dark red liquid as in the hallway drenched me from head to toe. It reeked like blood, but who would have a bucket full of human blood? Then I saw them pop up from behind the counter, Dylan and Allan, the two pesky twelve year old twins, who always harassed people and apparently they had a crush on me making me the number one target.
They chuckled as I yelled, "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!?!"
I looked at my hands stained with red as a smooth voice said from the door way behind me, "Animal blood."
YOU ARE READING
➰Cecily (TMI FANFIC)➰
Fanfiction➰Cecily....My last name yeah I don't know it. I tend not to dwell on the past or express my hatred for my parents to the world. However, here at the the Institute of Knowledge for Gifted Children, its hard not to have hatred toward my fellow student...