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Whoever created the emotion of emptiness is the person that Vee loathed, that is if a person created it.
Most likely not, well at least Vee thought they couldn't be normal. Normal people didn't create emotions and assign names to him. Much like normal people didn't turn orange and set forest fires. Or have green glowing eyes whenever they felt a high emotion.
Normal people didn't have gifts. They definitely didn't burn things either or have visions of a darkskin woman who has ginger hair and green eyes like him—no, normal people didn't do that. And that was because Vee wasn't normal. He never had been.
Even if he was normal, normal boys didn't have girl parts. Normal boys didn't act like girls. And they sure didn't want to wear girl clothes either: at least that's what Vee thought.
But Vee wasn't normal. He had never been normal: he was a abnormality in the form of a child. He could finally come to terms with the fact he was not normal—but that did not mean he liked not being normal. He wished every day he was normal. Like the pretty ginger girl in the gym, her blue eyes & long ginger hair. Her skin color gave her power over him, and he wished for that power.
So, actually, maybe Vee didn't accept he wasn't normal.
Maybe he just...knew he wasn't normal but he would never like that.
So it wasn't acceptance.
It was anger.
He was angry as he walked down the street way right next to the forest, luckily no one had seen or driven by, angry because of his orange skin. His green glowing eyes, his body, his gifts, just everything. He hated absolutely everything. But felt nothing.
He felt nothing as he walked. Nothing at all. What else could he feel? Other than that anger.
But he had someone to find.
He opened up the document again. PRISONER 002: RON.He wondered what the word prisoner meant, but maybe he could ask him once he seen him.
And then there was the file of 000. A file of a black woman with bright orange hair. His mother.
It was weird how that worked — the way he felt nothing but anger at the same time: he wished he hadn't. He wish to feel anything else because feeling anything else but numbness was better. Anything was better than this.
He dragged his dirtied converses on the concrete, not noticing how far he'd actually gone. The blankness on his face had said enough for anyone that could have seen him. But luckily, no one had seen him. At least no one he could feel or sense from afar. As his gifts were on edge the entire time.
