The Last Survivors Of Our Race

I am not normal....not anymore at least. My name? Kyia Marisol Slyder. Who am I? I am one of the last few surviving members of an elite, "artificial" race. I was an accident. When I say accident, I don’t mean my birth was unintended. What I am and what I am a part of, is the accident. I am not supposed to be a member of an elite race that barely lives. I am supposed to be normal girl. A girl, when she was 5, wore little pink bows in her hair, that matched her dresses and thought boys had cooties. A girl, who, when she turns 12, finally likes boys, is wearing tight clothes, wanting the latest gossip, the latest fashion updates, and desires the newest and greatest phone on the market. But no; that wasn't me and that never has been me. At age 5, I was being tested on with needles the size of a yard stick, that would scare the life out of a normal little girl, but no, I looked at the needle with no fear, and let them inject me with it. That was my biggest and probably my most crucial mistake. At age 5, I was being tested for speed indurations, form changing, and telekinetic/telepathic powers. At age 12, I was being taught hand-to-hand combat, artillery skills, gun handling, and learning to control my new powers. To some people, this would be the weirdest and strangest thing in the world. Some may even call it child abuse. To us, it was our daily life, our secret.

Our "force" was top secret. The government didn't know about us. The public, of all else, never assumed that there were kids being trained with equipment made for highly trained soldiers, right beneath their houses. All of us, every member of our squad, were taken from a death camps, a hospital for people who were waiting to die, or our everyday homes, never to see our loved ones again. They would disguise themselves, and then after night had fallen, they searched out their targets. I know because I have done it. My target was 3 year old Samantha Odelia. When I found her, deep inside a medical facility in Moroco, I knew she wasn't going to make it, no matter how much we gave to her. So, I did the one thing I could. I gave her the injection that would kill her. Not slow and painful, but quick and pain free.

This is where, in our secret base, all of our secrets are kept. It is also where I met my best friend, Julie Anderson. Julie was taken from her death camp because she would know when someone was about to die within a 168 hour time period. That is how my best friend predicted her own death. March 23. I was sitting in my room, discussing how I was more able to control my powers, when suddenly, Julie burst into tears. "Kyia, my time is up. I’m going to die.” she said, sobbing, her tear drops falling to the floor, collecting like a miniature ocean. I was in shock by her words. When I finally remembered how to move my lips and makes words, they came out slow and shaky. “Julie…honey....what do you mean?". She wiped her eyes and took several shaky breaths. "Kyia, I’m going to die soon.” Before she could take another breath, two uniformed men, who we had never seen before, broke down the door. Julie looked at me, and instead of giving me a sad, scared look, she gave me the most beautiful, angelic smile I have ever seen. She stood up and before her hand even left the bed, they fired. She collapsed onto the floor, dying, slowly and painfully. I screamed so loud in such a high pitched voice, that one of the men's ears started bleeding, causing his hands to shake violently, ergo causing him to shoot his foot, causing to fall. He eventually bled to death for his weapon was sent skittering to the corner of the room. The other shot at me, but the bullets were off course, for his hand was shaking, and ended up killing him.

All that I could see, that I could concentrate on, was my best friend, whom I had told everything to, was collapsed on the floor dying, before my eyes. I dropped to my knees, and grabbed her hand, and held it up to my cheek."Don’t worry help is on the way. Don’t leave me, Julie. It’s not over. It’s not over yet.” I kept murmuring to her. Finally, with one last breath, Julie lifted her finger to my lips and spoke so low I had to strain to hear her."Kyia...Please..Cremate me. I want to go everywhere you go. My spirit is free but always keeps my ashes with you. I love you Kiya. And thank you for this wonderful life we have spent together." After she had spoken her final words, Julie closed her eyes, and that angelic smile appeared on her face. Her breathing slowed down until it was nothing and she passed away. I held her in my arms for 3 days straight. I did not eat. I did not drink. I just sobbed.

When the 4th day arrived, I realized that I was being watched. Slowly, I turned around, half expecting more armed men. When I fully turned and my eyes adjusted themselves, I saw 5 people. All of them part of our elite squad. They came closer, seeing that I was one of them, and as they did, I saw they were badly, some almost fatally, hurt. I stood up and offered my help, attempting to ease the pain somewhat. As I helped each of them, I learned who they were and why they were here:

Michael Donatella: When Michael was young, he had a natural connection and love for animals. In his small house in Jackpot, Nevada, Michael kept many pets, ranging from goldfish to labradoodles, to tiger sharks; there was no end to the types of animals he kept. All-in-all, there was no animal that hated or despised him in anyway. As Michael grew older, he began to support the fight against animal cruelty more and more until our little secret community found him. They claimed that Michael was "Superior and could help very much in our operations".They then altered his genes so that he may communicate, understand and, eventually, changeover to an animal of his choice.

Anna Martinez: Anna was taken in for her amazing swimming and aquatic skills. Anna was forcibly stolen from her home in Akron, Ohio at age 6. She was miraculously good swimmer, as they always had someone watching her every day before they took her. They recorded how Anna swam for such a long period of time, how long she held her breath for (The max was 2 hours), and so on and so forth. When the finally managed to get hold of Anna, they allowed her to continue to swim, just not as long as she pleased, for they feared she would tire herself out and they would lose a protegee. Anna began to allow this, though she would sneak out at night, attempting to swim more. Anna became a hyperactive child, who often did wrong on accident, but was quick to make up for it.

Zakita Brown: Recruited because of her mass knowledge of engineering, Zakita Brown was 7 years old when she was brought in. Unlike the rest of us, Zakita came in peacefully, happy to be around any type of machinery and to be free from the camp that she was forced to attend. Zakita was an instant hit (Or so she said) with the other engineers, on account of how young and talented she was. She spent her the next portion of her life here, always staying to the engineering department. Because she was around things she loved, Zakita became a happy person, always dancing as she worked, or cracking jokes. She was the one to go to when you were depressed.

Titus Clemington: Titus was a child that was seemingly normal, up until his family took him hunting for his 9th birthday in the back woods of Montana. Though he had never been hunting before, Titus loaded, aimed and shot like he had been hunting for his entire life. Impressed, and confused thoroughly, his father continued taking him hunting. One April, when Titus was 11 years old, his father and him were out hunting, when his father was violently knocked out. Titus, panicking as a young 11 year old would, until he too, was knocked unconscious. It wasn't until months later, that he found out his father was fine back home, and that he was not allowed to leave the Base. Titus then adopted a hardened and serious like attitude.

Solomon Hillington: Solomon was a child who seemed like they would excel in reading and literature, which had earned high hopes from his parents, as they desired to leave Sandpoint, Idaho for once and for all. As he described it, Solomon's room was neat and orderly, though filled with thousands of notebooks, each filled to the end with either poetry, short stories, character ideas for books, or even ratings of previous books he read. Unlike other boys his age, who dreamed of becoming cowboys, Solomon had different intentions: He dreamed to be able to move things with ease. His wish came true when he was taken from his school in Bonner county, with his "parents approval". He allowed the men to escort him out of the school, where he found himself slipping into unconsciousness. When he awoke, he found objects floating around him in a circular motion, and his head pounding like a frightened deer heart might when caught in headlights. At a moment's notice, the objects dropped, and to his surprise, he found himself
miraculously moving them, some of them covered in one of the elements. This is when he realized what had been done. He became silent and lonely.

As I found out that Solomon could make Julie's ashes, I asked him, practically begging him, to cremate Julie. He was skeptical at first but agreed. Zakita silently built the oven-shaped crematory and Solomon picked Julie up gently, carrying her, like she was the long-lost sister he never knew, into the crematory. He came out carrying a small, tin box that was labeled with her name.

That was five years ago. Now I am on the run from society with Michael, Zakita, Soloman, Anna, and Titus.