The Differents | ✓

O N E

I remember the day things started going downhill. The weather seemed to match my mood. Dark grey clouds covered the sky in a thick sheet that seemed to go on forever, no matter which direction you looked. The distant roll of thunder was always present; far away, but still there. If you looked up, you could see lightning crackling inside the dark cloud, lighting up the grey sky, occasionally jumping out to scorch a tree or faraway hillside. There was also rain, lots of it. It soaked anything in seconds, pelting down on us with no mercy. Puddles were quickly forming in the dried-out ground of the Core's courtyard -- if you could even call it that. 

The courtyard consisted of a patch cleared out in the centre of the Core's buildings, dull concrete lining it and connecting it to each building. There were six paths, each branching off in a different direction. They were marked with a number. Numbers 1 through 3 led to the bedrooms of all the Differents who lived at the Core -- not that they lived anywhere else. The Core was our home, all of us.

Path 4 led to the teaching building, where they taught us to be Normal. By that, they were basically teaching us to all be the same, to eliminate all of our differences so we could one day be redeemed and set free to live on our own in the wild.

Basically, the Core is a facility that teaches you to fix yourself.

I don't know what we're aiming for though, what superior humanoid we're basing all of our studies off of, but there must be someone who managed to fix themselves enough to become the subject of all of our lessons.

The path marked 5 led to a building that we were not allowed to enter. The Masks acted like it was a mystery what it was for, but at night any person with eyes (which was the majority of us) could clearly see them all in a line, filing into the building. We guessed it was where they spent the night, to relax, to maybe socialize, if Masks did that.

The path marked 6 led to a gateway, topped with mean-looking coils of sharp barbed wire. The gate was connected to a fragile-looking fence that surrounded the Core, topped with more barbed wire. Past the gateway was a big, dried-up field, and somewhere beyond that, the Barrier. The Barrier was invisible to outsiders, and masked the Core, making it look like there was nothing there. It was the only way out of the Core and the only way in that I knew of. To anyone outside the Core, a high wall of brambles and unruly plants with mean-looking spines surrounded the Core. They were grown specifically so that there was practically no way through unless you went through the gate. But said gate was guarded day and night, and was so heavily armoured and protected that no one would ever think of breaking in. The only indication of the Core actually existing from outside was a slight ripple in the air around the Barrier, and behind it, the land looked slightly blurry. I mean, that's what I was told; I had never actually been close enough to the Barrier to see for myself.

We weren't allowed close to the Barrier.

We had just finished our morning classes and were allowed an hour of free time. Most people stayed inside, but I went out. I was furious.

It was during class. I was sitting at my spot like everyone else, listening to one of the Masks drone on about eliminating your Differences. She stood at the front of the room, holding a big book in her hands and showing us the pages. I wasn't listening, I was studying her face, those bright green eyes hiding behind her white mask. She wore a simple outfit, a long-sleeved shirt and pants, a light grey. A number 23 was sewn onto her shirt, under the word INSTRUCTOR. She also wore knee-high black boots and an unbuttoned black jacket over her shirt. I searched her face, trying to detect cracks, uncertainties. She was new, I'd only started seeing her around this week. I didn't know where Masks came from but they were all the same. Unfeeling, monotone things that follow every order they're given. Well, I suppose they've been given orders, but by whom, I do not know. The Masks' real name is technically dissimulo, a word invented long ago by our ancestors in a language called Latin. The translations mean things like conceal or disguise. It's quite a fitting name, if I do say so myself. The Masks are always concealing, always disguising.