Abnormal

Prologue

"Riley move the block." A voice echoed through the crackling speaker in the corner of the room. A little girl sat in the middle of the white room at a metal chair. Her tiny hands gripped the edge of the cold metal chair, nervously. Her eyes flickered up to the camera, skimming over the black tripod and the blinking red light, before snapping down to her lap.

"I-I can't." She stuttered in a whisper. "I can't. The last time was a – a freak accident."

"She refuses to listen." A frustrated voice huffed, either they hadn't let go of the speaker button or they didn't care what she heard.

"Send the boy in. Maybe he can get her to listen." Another voice said. "Go get him from his cell."

"Riley. It's a simple task. Just move the block." Unlike the other two voices, this one was female.

"I can't." Riley insisted. Her hands move nervously to her lap, clenching and unclenching the fabric of her loose pants. "I'm not special like the others. I can't do what they do. I'm not special – I – I just want to go home!" She crushed her fist to her mouth, attempting to stifle the sob coming from her mouth. With a shaking hand, she rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears, before gripping her pants again.

"People who aren't special don't put other people through walls. They don't accidentally break people's bones without touching them. And they don't move things with their minds when upset. If you ever want to go home do what we tell you." The woman hissed.

The girl bowed her head and stared at her fidgeting fingers. Minutes later the door squeaked open. Looking through a thin curtain of hair she took the sight of the boy standing in the doorway. He was a few years older than the girl and wore a grim expression. Her eyes snapped to the tall, bulking man behind him, dressed head to toe in black. The man was intimidating, but not as much as the giant rifle strapped to his front.

"Oliver." The little girl murmured with a sniffle. "I can't do it. I can't. It's to – too much."

The boy, Oliver, went to speak but was cut off by the sound of the door closing. Instead of leaving, the man with the gun moved into the corner of the room, looking carefully at the two children. Oliver looked the man over before walking over to the girl. She shuffled in her seat to face Oliver as he crouched in front of her.

"Riley I kno..." Oliver said soothingly but was cut off once again when he went to place his hand on Riley's. The man in the corner cleared his throat and Oliver turned in time to see him grab his rifle and grip it tightly in his hands. Oliver snatched his hand back and he eyed the gun nervously before turning back to Riley. "I know it's hard but you have to do what they say."

"But I don't know how." Riley leaned over whispering, trying to be quiet enough that it wouldn't be overheard. An impossible task. They were always watching. "It's always by accident."

"No. It's motivated by emotions. Every time you made things move it was when you were upset, right?"

Riley nodded her head quickly.

"Then think back and try to remember how you felt. Can you do that for me?" He grinned, trying to comfort her without touching her. Riley gave a small smile back before turning back to the table. Despite not wanting to remember Riley thought back to the first time she had used her "gift". Her stepfather, Oliver's dad, had had a bad day and was taking it out on Oliver. She shuddered as she remembered watching her brother getting punched over and over again. Riley didn't remember what happened after. One minute she was crying and begging him to stop and the next minute her stepdad was lying on the floor with a giant dent in the wall. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at the wooden block sitting on the table. Clenching her teeth, she focused on the block. It didn't move. She reached her hand out and tried again but nothing happened.