The Normals | ✓

E I G H T

I hear footsteps on the stairs and a voice. A girl's voice. The one from yesterday, who Arden says is his sister. I don't know what she says, but it earns a yell of "Just go away!" from him. The steps come down the hall and for a moment I worry about her finding me, but out of spite for Arden, I don't try to quiet my crying. I don't think I could if I tried anyway. It seems that once I start, I can't stop.

The footsteps go right past the room anyway. I hear the creak of another door further down the hall opening and the footsteps disappear.

My thoughts stray to the Core, which brings on another wave of tears. I didn't think I would miss it this much, but it makes sense. It was my home, after all. No matter how bad it was. At least there I had a home and a sense of security, although a weak one. I think about Bear and Captain. Even the other people I had talked to from time to time who didn't completely hate me. I wonder how they're doing. Did they notice mine and Sniper's disappearance or is the Core trying to cover it up?

My gut tells me Bear and Captain noticed. Captain and I may not have been best friends, but she would've picked up on it. And Bear would've definitely noticed Sniper's disappearance.

I wonder how they're doing.

I don't even notice the footsteps until they're right outside the door. It swings open before I can react and I find a girl with big eyes and long black hair staring at me. My mind is still half in crying mode so I don't react in a cohesive way and instead, I scramble backward on the floor and hit the bed, causing a jolt of pain to travel up my spine and down my injured leg. Before I can stop myself, I let out a small yelp of pain.

The girl -- presumably Arden's sister -- drops down to a crouch in front of me. "You okay?"

I wipe my face and avoid her gaze. "I'm fine."

"You don't look okay."

"I have a lot going on," I reply. Possibly the biggest understatement of my life.

Arden's sister, whose name I believe is Lyra, helps me to my feet. "I have no idea who you are or how you got into our house and I would offer to talk to you about it but I think Arden needs help fixing the dining room table," she smiles, "even if he won't admit it."

I choose to ignore the fact that the reason it's broken in the first place is because of me.

We step out of the guest room and into the dining room and I see the mess I've made. The table is turned on its side and one of the legs has been broken right off it. Splinters of wood are sprinkled on the ground where Arden is crouching, sweeping them into a bag. He sees me and scowls. I don't feel guilty.

"I'm helping you whether you like it or not," Lyra says, walking over to the table. Looking at me, she holds onto one end. "Could you help me?" I grab the other end and we pull the table back up, quickly sliding the broken leg back under it before it can fall over. Arden collects the rest of the wood splinters and gives me another scowl before going to find some glue for the leg. Lyra sits down on the sofa in the adjoining room and sighs, stacking some scattered books. "I heard shouting. Was it you?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry about the table. It was my fault."

"I can't exactly say it's alright, but what's done is done."

What's done is done. The sentence almost makes me start crying again, remembering that Sniper had written the same thing in this sketchbook.

"I thought you went home, anyway?" Lyra says, turning around to face me. I'm still standing in the dining room, unsure of what to do with myself. "Didn't Arden say he was going to take you home last night?"

I look around for Arden, but he's gone. He's either taking a very long time with the glue or has decided to leave it to us. It's not up to him who I tell, anyway. So I sit down on the sofa next to Lyra and tell her the briefest version of my story that I can, which ends up being, "I used to live in this really stupid place on an island but I decided to escape because it sucked and I eventually ended up here after four days and a lot of traumatic experiences."

She raises her eyebrows. "Oh? Well that's not something I hear every day."

I laugh. "Yeah well they did a very good job of keeping me and everyone else there a secret."

"There were other people?"

"There was a whole facility for people like me. They said we have a genetic mutation that makes us imperfect. Our whole point in life is to try to fix those mistakes before we're twenty so we can live somewhere like, well... here."

She stares around, looking lost in her thoughts. "That sounds kind of familiar..." After a moment, she turns to face me again, but furrows her brow and stares at her hands. "When I was little my parents used to tell me stories of an island where people would go to fix themselves. Somewhere near here, called Pacifica. In the stories, the people who lived there were called the Differents."

"Yeah, sounds about right. I'm guessing the stories were sugarcoated though, seeing as they were being told to kids. Pacifica actually sucks and I, along with everyone else I knew, had the misfortune to live there our entire life." I shrug.

She laughs a little. "My parents would tell me that if I didn't eat my vegetables I would get shipped off to go join the Differents. But why would something like that exist? A facility to fix your flaws?"

I shrug, "Apparently Differents are a weak link in the chain. Gotta be fixed so society can continue moving forward."

She rests her head in the hands. "Well... how do I know you're not lying? How do I know that Pacifica and its stories actually are real?"

"Do I look like I'm from around here?" I ask. "Just look at me. Imperfections all over."

"I think it makes you more interesting. Everyone around here is all the same. We never have anyone out of the ordinary and it gets boring."

"Yeah, well I think I'd rather live in a society like yours than be forced every day into a mould I'm not made for. At least here you're already perfect. You're not trying so hard to change the mistakes you were made with. And on top of that, you don't have a timer for how long you have until you die."

"Is that why you left?"

"Partly, but I just hated being forced to be someone I'm not. I want to have a life of my own and make my own decisions. And I had that for a little while, but then everything went wrong and now I'm here with no idea what I have to do next and I just blew up at your brother and broke your table and oh god maybe I should leave..."

"Hey." Lyra puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I don't care what my brother says. You can stay for as long as you need, okay?"

"Thanks. I should probably actually figure out what I'm trying to do here, though," I laugh.

"Take your time. I, for one, have to go to school. This is my last year before I get to find a job and a fiancé!" she says, smiling excitedly.

"Good luck," I reply.

I watch as she grabs a backpack sitting by the stairs and stands at the entrance to the hallway. "Arden? That glue is taking an awful long time!"

Her brother appears in the hall a moment later holding the glue bottle. He shoves it in Lyra's face. "Here."

"I can't do it!" she says, holding up her hands. "I have to leave. You do it."

"Fine." He stalks over to the table and starts gluing the leg back on. Lyra grabs her coat and a slice of bread and opens the front door.

"See you later, Arthemis," she says with a smile, closing the door behind her.