'Agenlintosis...' By; Dani J. Martel.

Chapter 1. 'A Gut Feeling'.

The skies look a little greyer today. Maybe that's just because of my current mental state. I feel like starting a fight with all those people with wide smiles plastered on their faces. Sadly, this damned car holds me. Like a restless bird, trapped in a cold, dark, seemingly desolate cage.

As the car rolls over jagged stones on these ancient, country roads. I feel the vibrations try to shake me. To make me realise the gravity of things. And the fact is that I'm considered insane to the rest of the world.

My name is Kyon Collins, and I'm one of the six confirmed cases of children in the world with 'agenlintosis'. Meaning, I have fully matured to have the mentality (not physique) of a fully grown adult. Or at least what my future self would consider a fully grown adult. And I am still only thirteen years old.

In short, the behaviour you see reek off of me now is how I would behave, if I were a fully grown adult. Right here, right now, in the present. As if this shit wasn't enough already, I'm being taken to a group appointment where there are other kids 'like me'. What a brilliant day to be alive.

I feel the vibrations rock me back and forth with an unending rhythm. I start to get agitated, and my head starts throbbing. I'm getting another migraine. To take my mind off the pain, I fish for my Dad's silver pocket watch. Sitting in my leather-vest, breast pocket. Stroking it longingly, and lovingly.

"Oh stop looking so depressed, Kyon. I'm sure it won't be that bad. I'm sure they're nice people."

"I'm still pissed about the cost of this though, Mum. Are you one-hundred percent sure?"

"Honey, you are my son! Any price is worth it for you my darling." Regardless of my disorder, my Mum still loves me. No matter how sharp tongued I've been to her, she doesn't care. I really love her for that.

"Like I've already said, I'm sure they're nice people. So don't worry about it Kyon. Leave the worrying to me."

"Ha ha! I hope you're right. I'm just about ready to lose my shit if somebody attempts to provoke me."

"Understandable. But remember, please try and be even remotely polite." She dragged the word 'try', emphasising her concern. I love my Mum, so I'll try. But any of this squeaky-clean, perfect like plastic crap. I'm done.

* * *

"Welcome, Miss. Collins."

"Oh, you can just call me Rita."

"Okay then. Oh, you must be little Kyon. I'm Jessica, but you can call me 'Nurse. Jess'."

"I know why I'm here hag."

"Oh you do, do ya? Well, I guess it can't be helped. Let's head on in, Doc. Porter and the others are already in there waiting."

As soon as I entered the white-washed room, where the rest of my fellow unfortunate patients were sitting restlessly waiting. I noticed they were all ranging from ten to fourteen years old, just like myself. Except for this one penny brown kid in the corner, with who's probably his mother. He looked about nine.

Something that really irked me though, was the similarity in eye colour. We all had the infamous lilac eyes.

My gaze shifted towards the penny brown kid. One of his eyes was blind, and a scar went through in a diagonal line. Going from the bottom-half of his forehead, to the tip of his lip. His other eye, seemed quite normal. And strangely, rather healthy. The scar was still a bright red, meaning the profound wound was clearly recent.

I was slightly shocked to see someone so young to have this disorder. But then again, they did say it can strike from ages five to thirteen. Everyone seems younger than the maximum age though...