The MISFIT Project
You know they're there. You can feel them watching you; feel their eyes at your back. They're everywhere, in the trees, on the rooftops, in your home. Your friends and family tell you it's not real, that THEY aren't real, but you know better. Birds, insects, street lamps; the government has been watching everyone. Looking for that one person who stands out, even among the outcasts, that human being who silently rebels because what they have is more than paranoid suspicions, more than a crazy idea. Somehow, they understand that inkling, that yearning for the truth that all humans are born with. Locked deep within the minds of each freak lays the knowledge of the meaning of life itself. And the government wants to know it, too. They make it their business to know the who, the what, the when, the where, the why, and the how; each and every little detail is vital to the MISFIT project. The Mutual Interest in Specific Freaks Innocent of Toxins project was started after a member of the Congress adopted a child that jumped onto the roof when a bully from school chased her across the playground, in the year 4001. Her name was Khris, and this, is her story.
"Try again, and this time, tell me about your dream. It's the same one over and over again, isn't it? We can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong. Do you like waking up every night screaming?"My mother asks me.
I shake my head. I can't talk; they think they've hypnotized me. The looks on their faces every time I don't tell them about my dreams are so hilarious; it's all I can do not to blow my cover by busting out laughing.
"Why don't you tell us the dream sweetie? We want to make the nightmares go away. That's why we're here in the first place."
I want to scream "LIAR!", but instead, I find myself driven to tell them about my dreams, to tell her what she did to me, how she tore my incorruptibility out of me before I was ever properly acquainted with it. "It's cold. Here. In this place. Where you left me. It's icier than the Norse version of hell. Its temperatures go fathoms lower than the most extreme temperatures of Antarctica. It's even colder than your heart, if you even had one to begin with. Instead, you've lived for an eternity sucking people's souls into that black hole of a void that you call a warm embrace. You rip their hearts, still beating, out of their silent bodies, still breathing. You destroy their hopes, dreams and any chances they may have ever had at love or happiness or the ability to give a millimeter of trust ever again. Murderer. Thief of souls, of innocence. You only pretend to love to appease that aching breaking burning yearning of the soul that longs of companionship of which you lost at the beginning of time."