"I'm hungry!" I yell. "I'm hungry! Hello! I'm hungry! Bring me food! I'm hungry! Bring me food now! I'm—!""Shut up, kid!" an agent yells, and I grin. I've been screaming for the past hour, and I've woken just about everyone in the building with my complaints. I've decided that if they're going to keep me here against my will, I'll make their life a living hell. It must be early in the morning, because Agent Ralph stomps into the hallway in his pajamas and slippers.
I burst out laughing. Pointing at his pajamas, I manage to taunt him between hysterical laughter. "You're," I say, laughing, "wearing...bright pink...Hello Kitty...pajamas...and...slippers...with....ribbons!"
Agent Ralph glares at me and snaps, "They got my laundry mixed up with another agent! A female agent, just so you know!"
"Yeah, sure they did," I tease. "Now, I'm hungry. Bring me food."
"We aren't your servants," Agent Ralph growls. "We don't have to give you anything to eat; you're lucky that we care enough to keep you alive."
I glare at him. "Actually," I snap, "you don't care at all. You only keep us alive because of the law. If it was your choice you'd just kill us all off," I smirk as I add, "like you did your daughter."
A flash of pain passes over Agent Ralph's face, but it's quickly replaced with anger. "Shut up!" he yells. "You're just a kid! You have no idea what it feels like to lose a child!"
"I know what it's like to lose a parent," I reply. "I know what it's like to watch your father deteriorate into madness. I know what it's like to watch your family fall apart." I glare at the agent as I add, "I bet you don't know how it feels to travel from foster home to foster home. I bet you don't know how it feels to raise yourself."
"But you didn't raise yourself," Agent Ralph argues. "Someone helped you, and we want to know where that someone is. So why won't you tell us where he is, Ms. Green?"
I glare at the agent and say, "I won't betray Daemon. He practically raised Angel and me, and I'm not going to just betray him by giving away his whereabouts to you people."
Agent Ralph raises his eyebrows. "You say that like we're bad people," he says, as if surprised. "If you knew the real reason as to why you're here, then you wouldn't think that badly of us."
What did he mean by what he said? I can't help but wonder as I watch Agent Ralph turn away and walk off down the hallway. I ignore my thoughts and call out, "Hey! I'm still hungry! Hey!"
I sigh and plop down onto the floor. It's still early morning, but I'm not tired in the least. I sit with my legs out in front of me and my arms crossed, and I stare at the wall. Agent Ralph's mentioning of my family life stung a little, and I close my eyes, letting the memory surface.
I don't remember how old I was. I wasn't any older than three when my mother died of some disease, and I wasn't much older than four when my father just left one day and never came back.
I was in a foster home since kindergarten, and I was sent off many times to boarding schools because nobody wanted me. I was different, according to them, and I knew it. Wherever I was, weird stuff would happen; for example: stuff randomly catching fire, lightning zapping the tree in the front yard—every time a thunderstorm occurred. I would cry often at night, wishing that I could live a normal life, and wondering what I was.
That all changed when I was a couple years older.
I was sitting in the front yard of my current foster home, underneath the shade of an oak tree, when I saw a shadow appear in front of me. I had looked up and had seen a tall boy with shaggy black hair and dark grey eyes that had no pupils. But, for some reason, I wasn't scared of him at all.
YOU ARE READING
The Elementalists
Science FictionWhen a government van crashes through the school's gymnasium wall, seven kids are on the run for their lives! After learning what they're truly capable of, will they be able to stop the impending darkness before it consumes their world? Book cover c...