Look Into Different Eyes

As the other man approaches the car, I turn to look at my father more closely. The tears in his eyes are now pouring down his cheeks. He does not try to speak, but reaches back and takes both of my small hands into one of his. The door beside him opens and the man in the suit gets in and shuts the door softly. As I turn my attention from my father to this stranger, I catch my own eyes in the rearview mirror. The dark brown eyes that look back into my own are filled with more confusion and fear than I have ever seen in their depths before.

"Bella, that is your name, correct?"

I turn to this new young man with these strange eyes. His voice is warm and friendly but laced with tension. No deception lies behind his eyes as he offers a reassuring smile and awaits my answer.

"Yes," I reply, looking down at my hands.

"Well, Bella, my name is William. Has your father tried to explain anything to you?"

I shake my head in the negative, but do not look up as he continues, "Well, you're young, but I will try to explain it to you. Your life will never be the same as it was. The moment you broke that vase, so many people became aware of your existence that..."

"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to..." I say as sobs pour out of me.

As William begins to speak again, my father turns to unbuckle my seatbelt and pull me into his lap. My knee bumps the steering wheel and I yelp from the surprise of it more than the pain. My father pets my hair soothingly as my first lesson continues.

"Of course you didn't mean to. No one ever means to use their powers. In fact, it is only through such accidents that they are normally discovered."

"Powers?"

My interest is suddenly peaked. Every child wants to believe they are special. All of us are to our parents, but we want to be special on a global perspective. The mention of the word powers just opens a world of possibilities to become unique and therefore worthy of the greatest esteem from our peers, not to mention adults.

"Yes, powers," he says, a hint of admonition creeping into his voice, "but these powers should never be used only for the good of oneself. They should be used for the good of all. The Mentors send out superdudes and other representatives like myself to help those who discover their powers adjust and resist the forces of Decay. With luck, Decay has not..."

My father interjects, "She has already had her first experience with Decay."

"What?" William exclaims, his concern becoming more apparent.

"Apparently, her principal was one of the Decay agents." My father replies.

"And you just came from there?"

"Yes."

"Then we must leave immediately."

In seconds, William has the door open and is running toward the other men and women in suits, encouraging them all to hurry. The woman that has been comforting my mother, releases her and rushes toward the house as my father opens the door and somehow manages to get us both out of the car without bumping my head. He is rushing toward my mother, holding me tight in his arms.

"Honey, what's going on?" My mother asks, reaching out for me.

"Decay knows about Bella," he responds, gently placing me in her arms and then wrapping his own around us.

"Oh, my baby," mother says, her eyes overflowing with tears again, "My darling baby."

"Mommy..." I begin, but there is no time to finish.

The sound of tires squealing fills the air as the men and women come piling back out of the house, carrying a few boxes. One of them reaches under his coat and produces a pistol. He stands ready, his eyes scanning the direction of the squealing tires as one of the other men approaches us.

"I'm sorry, but you're safer without her," the man says as he slowly disbands the circle of my parents' embrace.

I cling to my mother, refusing to let go of her neck. She clings too but my father's gentle hands and gentler voice convince her to let loose. I begin sobbing, but my arms are too short and weak to maintain my grip. The man who has grabbed me is quickly encircled by the others as they race to the van.

Looking over the man's broad shoulders, I can see my parents swimming in my tears. Their images waver as they seem to fall together so naturally without me between them. Yet somehow their circle now seems incomplete. I hear the doors of the van opening behind me as a gunshot goes off somewhere to my left. I tilt my head to look at the gunman who is firing at a white sedan car with a rusted hood and seems to be oozing the same dark slime that came from Principal Mander's hand when he touched me.

The car swerves wildly and that is the last I see before the doors are slammed closed between me and my parents. My tears cascade down my cheeks as I am placed on one of the mats upon the floor. The van is moving mere seconds later and I find myself screaming as it is hit with some force. My head hits the wall at the same moment and the last thing I remember is one of the men in suits wrapping his arms around my shoulders and cradling me protectively near his chest.