Vax or The Vax Academy as my parents prefer to call it is a prison for the different (that's how I prefer to think of it), but the brochure assures potential students that it is a retreat for special and gifted children, it boasts tennis courts, swimming pools all manner of sporting facilities, a beautiful location, an excellent teaching staff, an in school Doctor, Michelin starred chefs, cleaning staff and private dorm rooms. What the brochure fails to mention is the severe security; armed patrol officers walking the forest perimeter, security cameras everywhere but the students bedrooms, and then there's the bi-monthly blood sample all students are required to give as proof they are living a drug free life. There are ways around this security of course with kids as bright and gifted as us.
I first realised I was different when my parents began to part me form other children. Before Vax I lived in a small suburb of Toronto, Canada the kind of place where children played in the streets with each other, wailing at skinned knees or bumps to the head, whilst mothers sat on porches chatting and laughing on a rare sunny day. I used to be one of those laughing, smiling children. Then it stopped.
My parents began to discourage my going out, all reflective objects were removed from the house and the curtains were always drawn. I watched the children I had considered friends from my bedroom window, I saw Remy Ellington's first kiss under the street lamp with the one of the popular boys from school. I saw Will Pemberly break his leg during a game of chicken. I watched and watched but I never could take part.
I remember fevered rows between my usually calm and collected parents, though I wasn't privy to the details, the den walls muffled the words but carried the tone. I was 8 at the time.
My Mother was a private secretary to a big inner city CEO, I don't remember their name or company but I know her job took up a large proportion of her time. My father was and still is a Partner in RadleyDanes Solicitors.
My name is Clary, like the sage which is my names sake, its so exciting be named after a herb. In times gone by people used to believe Clary sage allowed you to see the fair folk, i.e. fairies goblins, elves and such, irony is such a bitch. I am a fairy. A cross between an angel and demon, eventually I will have to choose which path to take, angel or demon.