Special

Chapter 2

'The Arringtons say their daughter has made significant progress,' Mum enthused on the drive home.

I rode in the front passenger seat while she drove.

'Her AD symptoms have reduced on Co-tritopotine,' Mum adjoined, ardently. She had the same level of optimism for my previous failed treatment.

I stared out the window watching the trees go by as she babbled on. 'Dr Graham is confident Co-tritopotine will be the new standard for AD treatment.'

Before the emergence of gene therapy, psychotherapy was the standard and only form of treatment known to improve AD symptoms.

Like a muscle, abilities could be strengthened but had limitations which were classified into two: subconscious and optimal. Whereas subconscious limits could be pushed and overcome, optimal limits couldn't. At least not without the aid of an "Augmenter" — someone with the ability to amplify those of others.

Signs of optimal limits were migraines, dizziness and a bleeding nose.

Subconscious limits were generally due to a lack of using one's abilities, stress and mental processes. That's where ability psychologists came in, helping individuals get past subconscious limitations through psychotherapy. After a few appointments with the psychotherapist, it was evident my lack of abilities would be a major obstacle in our sessions.

'Co-tritopotine has a thirty-five per cent success rate in the treatment of Classic AD,' Mum continued, 'and a sixty-two per cent success rate in the treatment of High-Functioning AD.'

It also contains Topotecan, I interposed in my mind. Hailed as a miracle drug, Co-tritopotine had the highest recorded success rate of any AD treatment. It also contained Topotecan — a chemotherapy agent primarily used to cure metastatic cancers. Although proven to awaken dormant OME3A genes successfully, Topotecan was still cytotoxic and even in small quantities came with most of the side effects associated with chemo.

'I have a good feeling about this,' Mum raved. 'I'm sure it's going to work this time.'

She said that about the previous treatment and the one before. I couldn't see how she managed to remain so positive. She could be overbearing, but I often wished I had her unwavering optimism and special ability.

Mum could adopt the abilities of anyone she came into contact with. She could have virtually any ability she desired. However, as amazing as her mimicking ability was, it came with a few drawbacks. She could only call up or use one ability at a time. For instance, if she was flying, she couldn't use her telepathic ability. She could lose an ability if she didn't use it often. She could only retain a maximum of six abilities at a time, and her mimicked abilities were usually five to twenty per cent weaker than the person she acquired them from.

Mum had consistently retained three of Dad's abilities, including super strength, fast healing and flight — which I would've maintained as well.

Other abilities she retained were telekinesis and teleportation, which I believe was a sentimental gift for her because it was the first ability she learnt to mimic. It was also my late grandpa's ability. Mum had inherited her mimicking ability from Grandma and adopted teleportation from Grandpa before his passing.

As much as I wanted abilities, Mum was the driving force behind my treatments. Always on the lookout for AD developments, Mum was relentless in her pursuit to fix me. Perhaps the shame of living with an abnormal child was too great to bear.

My rambunctious little brother, Cody, sat on the living room sofa, playing games on his tablet when Mum and I arrived home. Loud cartoons played on the television.