The School for Lost Children

To be honest, almost being hit by a car is the least crazy thing that has happened to me today. 

I sprinted out into the middle of the busy street, cars of all shapes, sizes, and colors whirring past me in a dangerous rainbow. I heard honking and the squeals of brakes as I maneuvered through the road. Bystanders looked on in shock and amazement as I easily ran through the maze of cars, nimbly dancing my way to the other side of the street. 

Turning my head to look behind me, my persurses had stopped, angry expressions on their faces, hands on their guns.

And that’s when one car came just a little to close.

Just great I thought as the car came zooming towards me. Everything happened in slow motion for me. I poised my feet; balancing on an invisible tightrope.

The closer the car came, the more of it I saw. Sleek black paint reflected the butter-colored headlights; a smooth, sheek look. Of course. Every single rich, snobby person has nice cars like this one.

I waited as the car roared, horn blaring, brakes squealing.

One second. 

Two seconds.

Now!

I lept, my feet out wide, arms to my sides; as graceful as a swan; as high as a rabbit. 

I could practically see pedestrians’ jaws drop as I landed on the hood of the car, toes pointed like a ballerina. I looked up and gave a wink at the crowd before the car zoomed away with myself on top, like a giant birthday candle.

As you can probably guess, I’ve done this little stunt more than my fair share of times. 

The wind blew through my silvery-white hair as I sat on the hood of the car. The car started drifting off to the side of the road before finally stopping. A man opened the driver’s door and stepped out, looking up at me as I gave him a friendly little wave.

“Hello my good sir,” I said, standing up. “Thank you for your assistance back there. I really appreciate it.”

The man eyed me up and down, and realization dawned on his face. “You’re-”

“Oria Nightshade,” I finished for him, taking a little bow. “International criminal, wanted for theft, vandalism . . . you name it. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Yes, hallo,” he said in broken English. “I’m calling because-” At this point, he looked back up at the hood of his car. If you guess that I was already gone, you all get gold stars!

I walked through the alleyway, whistling as I looked through the man’s wallet. There were a couple of tens, a five dollar bill and . . .

“Oh sweet,” I said as I waved a one dollar bill in the air. “This’ll provide us food for weeks.”

I threw the wallet behind my shoulder, not wanting to tempt myself with the countless credit cards in there. Besides, those can be tracked. Luckily for me, cash cannot.

I made my way through the alley, feeling safe and carefree. Suddenly, I heard someone crying. I looked down a corner to find a little boy and girl, probably around the age of eight or nine. Their clothes were in shreds, and I could see their rib cages. Sunken eyes hid behind straggly hair. 

I felt a twinge of anger. Why do people think it’s alright to do this to innocent children. I hate them all; all those who feel like human lives don’t matter. I hate them. I HATE them.

I walked towards the children, my boots clicked loudly in the now quiet alley. I could see the fear in the childrens’ eyes as I leaned down next to them. 

Please don’t hurt us.

The boy’s thoughts echoed through my head, my sympathy growing for them every second.

“It’s okay,” I said, brushing back their hair. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

That’s what the other people said. The girl looked up at me, dirty cheeks stained with tears.

“But I’m not the ‘other people’. I’m the one who’s going to help you.” I held out my hands gently, a warm smile on my face. “If you come with me, you won’t have to starve. You’ll get all the food you want, and you can play with the other children.”

“Other children?”

“Yep,” I said. “It’s okay. I’m like you.” My hands were outstretched. All they needed to do was to grab on. 

The siblings looked at each other, before grasping onto my hand. I helped them to their feet, and supported them as they walked shakily, hunger taking a toll on their bodies. As we walked, I felt their thoughts trickle through my head as I watched their memories.

They were taken from foster family to foster family, each time more lonely than the last. The last foster family they had abused them; hit them. They ran away in fear; knowing if they stayed they’d be hurt. Or worse.

I understood them one hundred percent. Other children at the School went through that same exact experience. 

I led them to a little less known part of the City. The section of the City that no ordinary person in their right mind would like to visit. This is what locals call “The Pit”. Drug addicts, homeless people, thieves and murderers live here, some of them friends, others . . . enemies.

I should also probably mention that I live here as well.

I passed the black market that was housed inside a small apartment building and turned right, where I found myself on a street with only one building. Tattered police tape flew sadly in front of the entrance; crumbling red paint adorned the walls and several windows were broken.

Home sweet home.

The children looked frightened at the prospect of entering this house, but I gently led them along. “It’s alright,” I said as we stepped through the door. “You’ll be safe here.”

Almost immediately I was thrown to the ground as a mass of red hair jumped on top of me. 

“That was too long!” Jenna exclaimed, giving me a big hug. She glared at me with bright green eyes. “It’s 7:30 pm! Next time, I expect you back by 5 o’clock.”

I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “Well missy, I should probably remind you that I made this institute. I can follow my own rules. I’m not one of the kids. For heaven’s sake, can’t a sixteen-year-old get any freedom?”

The fourteen-year-old gave another huff before turning her attention to the children I brought with me, who were watching in surprise. “Who are they?”

“I found them,” I explained, brushing dust off my coat. “Another pair of abandoned children.”

“I swear, people are heartless.” Jenna bent down with a goofy smile. “Hi! My name is Jenna. Who are you?”

“I’m Jacob,” whispered the boy, marveling at the red-head wonder. “This is my sister, Odana.”

“Well, Jacob, Odana, why don’t we get you cleaned up, and then get you something to eat. Does that sound okay with you?”

The two kids nodded excitedly as they thought about the prospect of eating.

These kids are going to be so annoying. I glared at Jenna and slapped her lightly on the arm.

“Hey!” she yelled, rubbing my arm. “What was that for?”

“You know what it was for,” I muttered. 

“Argh. I can’t ever hide things from you, can I?”

“You got that right,” I said, heading upstairs. “Jacob, Odana. Welcome to the School For Lost Children.”

Okay, by now, you probably have no idea what’s going on, and you probably have a lot of questions. Let me explain. The School For Lost Children is an institute that I basically made up with a couple of friends. As you probably guessed, I take abandoned children and try to give them a place to stay. Sure, it may not be super sanitary, and, yes, we have to steal for funding, but it isn’t too bad. Besides, everyone here understands each other. It’s one of the safest places for people like me to go. 

I made my way up into my bedroom, kicking off my boots and lying down on the bed.

“Oreo, you’re back late.”

I sat up to find Vincent standing in the doorway, his long, midnight-black hair tied back into his signature ponytail. He came and sat down next to me, stroking my hair.

“I told you never to call me that,” I said huffily, playfully shoving his hand away.

“Would you like the Sass Queen then?”

“Eh, I can make it work.”

Vincent gave a hearty laugh and eyed me with those yellow, cat-like eyes of his. “Princess, please, you don’t have the temper to back that nickname up.”

“You wanna see it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, I’ll take a rain check.”

Vincent is about the only person in the world who can actually make me crack a real smile. Sure, he’s two years older than me, but we already treat each other like siblings, so we make it work.

“I heard you found two more kids. Are they Special?”

“No, not as far as I can tell,” I said, laying down. “They were both abused though. But they aren’t Special.”

“I see.”

Suddenly, Elliot rushed in, being chased by his twin sister Angel. Frost crawled up the side of Angel’s neck as she lunged at him, her Ability activated. Elliot’s hands sent off waves of heat; his palms started glowing a bright yellow. 

I grabbed Angel by the back of her jacket and Elliot by his. “Will you two knock it off?” I asked grouchily. 

“She started it,” Elliot whined, wriggling out of my grasp.

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Please, just stop fighting,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “If you already didn’t know, we have new kids that I picked up today. I don’t want you showing off your Abilities to them. Let them ease into it. Elliot, help Toby with the meal, and please don’t overcook the food this time.”

“Fine.” Elliot stuck his tongue out at Angel before skipping out the door. Elliot’s Ability allows him to create heat between his hands; kind of like the heat you’d get when you rub your hands together super fast, but way stronger. He’s quite the good cook for obvious reasons. 

Angel is the exact opposite of Elliot; she can cool her body temperature down, and create frost using her sweat. No wonder those two always fight; they’re literally polar opposites. 

Angel was still pouting as Elliot left the room. I noticed the room temperature getting colder by the second.

“Vincent-”

“I got it,” he said, taking Angel’s arm. “Come on, why don’t we feed Ginger together?”

Angel brightened at the prospect of feeding Ginger. Ginger was the mangy cat that we had staying with us. Normally, I don’t like cats, but with Vincent’s Ability, Ginger is actually pretty useful. 

I gave Vincent a grateful smile as he led Angel out of the room. Vincent’s Ability to talk to animals is probably one of the coolest abilities I could think of. Okay, he doesn’t talk to animals, but it’s sort of like they understand each other. Not sure if that makes sense, but whatever.

Though, in my opinion, my Ability is the best of them all.

I can read and control minds. 

Okay, at this point, you’re probably wondering how and why some people are Special, and others aren’t. There’s a simple explanation for that. For the first thirteen years of my life, a couple of other kids and myself were experimented on by a bunch of wack-job government scientists. Basically, they wanted to create a race of superhumans. Bet they didn’t know that superhumans have sass.

I basically blew that place to heck. Every experiment agreed that this wasn’t humane. So, one night, we all managed to escape. But, the only problem was that we had nowhere else to go. That’s where I got the idea of the School For Lost Children. We protect ourselves and other children who have had hard childhoods.

So, yeah, that explains my powers, and also why I’m an international criminal. The reason why I’m an international criminal and my friends’ aren’t is because I’m the risky one; I steal food and money for my family, I sabotage government facilities . . . yeah, I’m one dark psychopath. 

But I want you to know that I’ve never killed anybody.

And I never plan to.

A sudden scream was heard from the kitchen. I bolted upright and ran out of my room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Toby, one of the Specials that escaped the facility held a ball of metal that used to be one of our kitchen pots. Elliot was rolling on the floor, laughing his head off. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said as I took the lump of metal and chucked it out one of the open windows.

“S-s-s-sorry,” the seventeen-year-old stuttered, hands twitching. “L-L-lia scared m-me out of m-my w-w-wits.”

“It was hilarious. You should have seen Toby’s face.”

“Oh, be quiet Elliot. Lia. Please show yourself.”

The fifteen-year-old girl appeared in front of me, her rainbow-colored hair springing out in every direction. “Oh come on,” she complained, “it was funny!”

“It was funny,” I reprimanded her, “until Toby used his Ability to compress our last pot into a cannonball. Besides, you just made his ticking even worse.”

“That’s why it’s funny!”

“I-it’s okay,” Toby said. “Oria, d-don’t p-p-push her t-too hard.”

I looked at Toby for a second then sighed. “Lia, you’re lucky Toby stuck up for you. If not, I’d probably make you do the household chores tonight by yourself. Besides, now how are we going to eat?”

Lia rolled her eyes.

“S-sandwich night?” Toby suggested, giving a little shudder.

“I guess,” I sighed, sadly hoping for another ramen night. “I’ll help out; it’ll give me something to do.”

“May I help out?” a quiet voice asked from the shadows. 

I looked up from the lettuce I was brutally murdering to find Asher leaning against the doorway. “Uh, sure,” I said, going back to the lettuce. “But, we’re making sandwiches. I’m not sure there’s really anything for you to do. I guess you could set the table if you really wanted to.”

Merely nodding in response, Asher went to the cupboard, quietly singing to himself. 

“So don’t ever laugh as a hearse goes by

For someday, you’ll be the one to die

And when Death brings his cold despair

Ask yourself, ‘Will anyone care?’”

 

It sent shivers up my spine, but I didn’t stop him from singing. It was his sister’s favorite song anyway. We made the food in silence with only one or two casualties involving Elliot’s Ability. In the end, we managed to whip up ten perfect sandwiches without setting fire to the house. 

“Yo, people!” I yelled. “Food time!”

At this moment, Vincent decided to stroll in with Angel in tow, looking as happy as ever. Others soon followed in until we were all seated. Even Ginger decided to show up, purring softly as I tossed him scraps of ham.

Jenna was the last to enter, gently pulling along Jacob and Odana. The two siblings looked way better than they did an hour ago. They were both bathed and fresh clean clothes. But I could still see their malnutrition. It’s about time someone gave these children real gourmé cooking. 

We dug in as soon as they were seated; who needs manners when you’re surviving on just sandwiches and ramen?

I think it’s about time I introduce you to the rest of the group. You’ve already met Elliot, Angel, and Vincent, but I’ll go ahead and give some background on the others. First, we have Toby, who you’ve probably noticed can use the Ability of compression. He’s able to compress and decompress metal. Unfortunately, due to his ticking, decompressing is a bit of a challenge for him, but he’s still okay. 

Lia has the Ability of camouflage, not invisibility. She can turn herself into whatever color she wants or she can become transparent. So remember, camouflage, not invisibility.

Asher is the shyest out of the group. He is able to emit a special gas around himself. He can choose the components of the gas; whether choosing to have it be poisonous or just a pleasant sleeping gas. When he was at the facility, he was forced to watch his sister die, only because she wasn’t able to control her Ability. Ever since that, Asher’s never talked much. I worry for him a lot, but I know he’ll control himself. At least I hope.

Jenna is quite normal, and it was quite a shock to her when she found out about our Abilities, but she’s accepted us, and I’m truly grateful for that. I’m pretty sure that Odana and Jacob are normal as well; I don’t sense an Ability when I’m around them.

After we all ate, I helped Odana and Jacob roll out sleeping bags in the front hallway. “You’ll sleep out here for the time being,” I explained to them as they settled into their sleeping bags. “Tomorrow, we’ll assign you two a room.”

Jacob and Odana nodded their heads in understanding and thanked me for everything I’ve done for them.

“It’s what anyone decent would do,” I said as I walked back upstairs. The lights in other rooms were off; I was the only one left awake. I climbed into bed and snuggled under the covers, not bothering to change clothes.

I had a dream that night. It was the first dream I’d had in weeks. I was back at the facility, tied down with ropes on an operating table. Doctors in white coats surrounded me. Some were holding clipboards, others were checking my vitals, and one was holding a syringe with a foggy liquid inside.

When I saw that syringe, I panicked. When he came closer with that syringe, I got angry. I strained with all my might against the ropes, hearing them snap as I sat up. I remembered racing out of the room, turning off all the lights as I did. There was a lot of screaming, and an alarm started ringing. 

That’s when Dr. Buler stepped out in front of me with a dozen or so guards behind him. He chuckled when he saw the alarm in my eyes, and I skidded to a stop.

“You can’t escape,” he said. “Just come with us, and you don’t have to get hurt.” 

The voice . . . it sounded so real.

I snapped my eyes open and sat up in bed, painting heavily. 

“You can’t escape,” a voice said from downstairs. “Just come with us, and you don’t have to get hurt.”

They were here!

But how! I was so careful. I made sure that I was never followed. I-

We’re so sorry. Odana’s thoughts ran through my head. They said that if we led them to you, we would be given a nice home with a nice family. We had no other option.

Those kids tricked us. No, the scientists tricked us. Those kids had no other option. Knowing me, I’d probably do the same thing for survival.

I heard a loud scream that came from Lia, before suddenly it was silent. I fought the urge to scream her name. I crept out of my bedroom and peered around a corner. In the front hallway stood Dr. Buler and a Task Force. Two men carried an unconscious Lia out the door, while Vincent and Jenna protected the others.

“Leave us alone,” said Vincent, getting ready to fight. “We don’t want anything to do with you. Let us go.”

Suddenly, the guards fired their guns and Vincent dropped like a stone. I let out a small shriek but then noticed that Vincent was breathing. I saw a small tranquilizer sticking out from his neck, and gave a small sigh of relief.

But relief quickly turned to fear as the rest of my friends dropped like stones, each one shot with the powerful tranquilizer.

“Check upstairs,” Dr. Buler said. “Experiment 404 and 049 must be up there.”

Experiment 404 was me, and Experiment 049 was Asher. They didn’t catch him yet. But then I realized they’d catch me if I stayed here. I quickly dashed back into my room and opened the window. I was up high, but not high enough to hurt me. I stood on the windowsill, my heart racing.

You can do this, I told myself, breathing heavily. I heard the door burst open behind me and as I heard the words, “STOP HER!” I jumped. 

I screamed as I plummeted, but still had the brains to grab onto a pipe jutting out of the side of the wall. As soon as I grabbed on, I swung myself onto a trashcan and jumped down, running for my life.

I felt a bullet whiz by my head and another ricocheted off the wall. I turned down an alleyway and raced into a nearby building. I put my hands on my knees as I allowed myself a minute of rest.

“You’re quite a little lost kitten aren’t you?”

I jumped at the voice and put my fists up. “Who are you?” I shouted into the darkness.

“Woah, woah, calm down kitten, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Then come out where I can see you,” I said, backing towards the door. 

“As you wish.” A tall male stepped out of the shadows, his shoes crunching over broken concrete. Orange hair fell down his head in fiery strands, a black fedora on top of his head. He was wearing a cream-colored suit, and held a decorative cane in hand. My eyes widened as I recognized the man to be Ronan Knight, the international crime boss of the century. He was only nineteen when he became the boss of a major drug cooperation. Now, three years later, he’s still managed to escape capture, and has built up a crime empire.

“So, what’s a little kitten like you doing out in The Pit?” he asked, taking out a cigar and lighting it.

“I don’t see how that concerns you,” I say, looking back at the direction I came from.

“Wait a minute,” the criminal said, walking closer to me. His violet eyes sparkled with delight as I backed up into a wall. He took his cane and brushed back a lock of my hair. “Aren’t you that little Nightshade gal?”

“And what if I am?” I pushed his cane away and brushed by him, quickening my pace. I didn’t want anything to do with the filthy murderer.

“Woah kitten, wait up!” he called as he followed me. “You’re a criminal, I’m a criminal. Why are you running from me like I’m the plague?”

“It’s not you I’m running from,” I said coolly as he came up beside me.

“So, who’s chasing the little kitten?” he asked, straightening his fedora.

“None of your business,” I said with a huff as I exited the building. With a few quick steps, Ronan blocked my path and backed me up against a wall, tapping the bricks with his cane.

“Let me go,” I said, staring into his purple eyes.

“I haven’t done anything to you kitten,” he said, leaning in closer. “But I just might if you keep up this attitude.” He leaned in closer and I flinched. “Now, all I want is a pleasant conversation.”

“Get off of me,” I shouted, trying to push him away, but he grabbed my hand easily. Then he said a sentence that totally shocked me.

“Why don’t you join us, little kitten?”

I stared at him in disbelief. “W-what?” I stuttered.

“I’ve seen you fight,” he said. “You’re not bad for someone so young. We could use someone like you.”

I snapped out of my shock and gave him a glare. “I’m sorry, but unlike you, I have people I want to protect, and I don’t have time to get in with a gang like yours.” I jerked my hand away and shoved him aside. “Now if you excuse me, I’ll be leaving now.”

Suddenly, a quiet voice rang from the darkness. “Oria?” I turned to the sound and saw Asher limp into view, leg bleeding profusely. 

“Asher!” I ran towards him and gave him a big hug. “You’re bleeding,” I said, worriedly examining his leg. 

“Cut myself on glass as I escaped,” he explained, trying hard not to collapse from pain.

“We’d be willing to offer assistance,” Ronan’s voice cooed. I turned to glare at him, but noticed he didn’t look so snobby anymore. I took a puff of his cigar then said, “We have a guy who’s good at first aid. We’d be glad to help.”

“Why should I trust you?” I asked as I helped Asher stand. 

“Because who else is going to help you?”

He had a point. I couldn’t go back to the School, and all my friends had been captured. I could either accept his help, or let Asher bleed to death.

I eyed him, but said, “Fine.”

Ronan gave a little smile, but didn’t say anything other than, “Follow me.”

We walked through dark, dangerous streets in silence. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to find government officers aiming guns at me, but I never did see anyone.

Ronan stopped at the door of an abandoned motel, and knocked three times. A girl in a leather jacket opened the door and nodded when Ronan explained the situation. We stepped inside the dingy lobby and I sat Asher down on a dusty bench.

The woman quickly fetched a first aid kit and a wet towel and quickly got to work on Asher’s wound.

“May I talk to you for a second?” Ronan said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I promise I won’t try anything.”

I rolled my eyes, but agreed despite my dislike for him. We walked into a small closet, and I leaned against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. “Well?” I asked impatiently as Ronan shut the door.

“Those government vehicles were for you, weren’t they?”

For the second time that night I stared at him, a loss for words.

“I saw them as I was walking to a private destination,” he explained, talking quickly. “Then, the next thing I know, you’re running right into me. If you don’t want to tell me why, that’s fine, but I want you to know that I can help.”

I looked at him, and then used my powers. I searched his mind, and what I found shocked me. This criminal, this dirty thief, was actually telling the truth for the first time in his miserable life. He had an urgency to help me, wanting me to open up to him.

I took a deep breath, and then explained everything to him, from the facility until the final moment before we ran into each other.

“Is this really true?” he asked when I had finished. “Tell me something that only I would know, and then I’ll believe you.”

“When you were in 1st grade, you had a dog named Sebastian,” I quickly said.

Ronan’s eyes widened. “Woah. So, it’s really true?”

I nodded. “Everything is true.”

Ronan ran his fingers through his fiery hair, then looked back at me with a smile. “That explains why you could pull off all of your crimes without a trace. You could literally tell the victim to give you the money, and they wouldn’t remember a thing.”

“I only had to do that for survival,” I said, frowning at him. “Besides, I don’t like the word victim.”

“Is that guy with you the same?” he asked.

“You mean Asher? Yeah, he’s the same. He has a different power than mine, but yeah, he’s one of the Specials.”

“And the rest of your friends . . . they-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered, pushing the door open. “Please don’t ask me about it.”

Ronan could probably see the pain in my eyes, so he just nodded and signed. “The little kitten did have some secrets after all.”

I didn’t say anything, and instead went over to Asher, who was lying down on the bench, leg wrapped up in a clean bandage. The woman had disappeared. 

“So, Asher, what happened to you?” I asked, sitting down next to him, watching Ronan as he leaned back against the wall, lighting another cigar. 

Asher looked nervously towards Ronan. “It’s okay,” I said. “I told him already, and I made sure that he wasn’t going to betray us.”

Asher looked a little bit more relieved, but I could see his face contort in pain as he recounted his experience. “I left as soon as I saw them herd the others into the front hallway. But, unlike you, I didn’t run away quite as soon as I should have. Instead, I watched them from a nearby rooftop. They loaded the others into this large truck, and I heard one say something. Something terrible.”

He paused for a moment, shivering.

“What did he say?” I asked, looking at him in concern.

He turned and looked at me straight in the eyes. 

“Dr. Buler said, ‘Until we retain the other two, keep them locked up under the highest surveillance you have. Take the necessary precautions, but other than that feel free to do whatever it takes to make them speak.’”

I choked out a sob, and put my hands over my mouth. I felt Ronan put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off and ran outside.

I couldn’t stop the tears. To think they were torturing my friends; my family. I heard the door open, and heard the familiar clicking of boots. 

“Leave me alone,” I said, straightening up to face the criminal.

“Not until I make sure you’re okay.”

“DO I LOOK OKAY?!” I shouted at him. “My friends are being tortured by government scientists, and there’s nothing I can do! And it’s not as if I can give myself up; that’s not an option!”

Then, suddenly it hit me. “No, wait, I’ve got an idea.” I smiled despite my tears. 

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What secret does the kitten have this time?”

I looked at him with a sly grin. “We have to draw them out. Hit them where it hurts.” I looked back in the general direction of the School For Lost Children. 

“They want to hurt me, fine. But it comes at a high price.”

I took a deep breath.

“They think I’m a freak. They think I’m a monster. They think I’m a villain.” I closed my eyes, letting the wind blow back my hair.

“Maybe it’s time to be one.”

Ronan looked at me with a mischievous grin. He took a puff from his cigar and smiled at my sudden change of attitude.

“Things around here are finally getting interesting.”

 

To Be Continued . . .