Nonconformity | Henry Creel

Failing

I think three more weeks passed. I couldn't be sure, as I had entirely lost track of time. My days blended together into one endless, bleached white fever dream. I still wasn't permitted a clock, considering all I'd done, but it was probably for the best. When I wasn't attending lessons, I was on my own. Even after all these days, I never quite managed to gather up the courage to speak to 'my siblings.'

But today was different.

Or so I chanted to myself all the way to The Rainbow Room. Over the past few weeks, I realized my siblings didn't like me. And it certainly didn't take a genius to know why. I was weak. Even among the younger children, my abilities were comparatively lackluster. Each day during our lessons, I'd be called to take a crack at whatever new activity we were attempting, and each day I would fail. Without exception. Not even a weak flashing of a light bulb or shudder of a brick.

Although Papa assured me that I did, indeed, have powers, my performance on the field did not signify. I had been pretty good at ignoring the embarrassment up to a certain point, but it proved more and more difficult with each passing day. Sitting in front of two dozen people and getting laughed at for days on end was bound to put a chip on anyone's shoulder. I once told myself I couldn't be bothered with the hierarchy that developed among the children, but things had changed.

I still didn't accept the life I was forced to live here. Not even a little. But it was better than being dead-- or so I told myself. I had my doubts about that, too. My experience within the lab could probably be summed up into one ominous question mark.

Peter stubbornly maintained his place among my biggest questions of all. No matter how long I wracked my sleepless brain night after night, I produced no answer. No explanation as to why he let me go, and why he avoided me for weeks afterward. Though, I suppose the avoidance wasn't all him. He made me feel unsettled. I didn't like how intently he would look at me, and I certainly didn't like how gently he treated me. I wasn't accustomed to anything bordering genuine, especially in the lab.

Not to mention I wanted to avoid any and all emotional associations while I was here. They would only make my eventual escape all the more difficult. I didn't want to be haunted by any 'what-ifs' should I actually manage to leave. The whole ordeal would be much easier if I only had myself to worry about.

Thus I avoided him each day as though he were the plague, and he did the same.

I pushed open the doors to The Rainbow Room, for once without the assistance of Papa. I padded a few steps forward and scanned the length of the room. Four sat in the back corner, alone. The sound of her annoying little snicker filled my ears, and I turned away.

Next, my eyes landed on a boy of relatively tall stature with light brown hair. I knew two things about him; His name was Two, and he'd been here a long time. He looked a little bit older than me, and I knew from our lessons that he was pretty gifted. Standing before a miniature wooden maze, his eyes darted every which way as he made two separate marbles move at once.

I started walking toward him before I could talk myself out of it, anxiously rubbing my sweaty palms against my gown. I came to a halt right in front of him. His eyes never left the maze. It was then that I began to wonder about the proper etiquette when it came to our powers. Was I allowed to speak to him while he was using them? Was it rude, like interrupting someone's conversation?

The quiet persisted for a few more seconds, and then the boy sighed lowly and looked up, "Can I help you?" Annoyance dripped from each syllable. I frowned.

"I wasn't trying to be rude," I explained as embarrassment reddened my skin, "I just saw you over here and I've been wanting to acquaint myself with some of the other patients, so I thought I would say hi."