Sparks (part 1)

Sparks

Prologue

I died officially on the 28th June, 2007.

The fact that my heart was still beating was... irrelevant.

Chapter one

The problem with June in England is that it rains a lot. Sure the weather is warm but the humidity just about kills you, and trying to walk the mile home from college in June rain is no easy thing. That was why Emma offered me a lift home that day. If she hadn’t offered me a lift home she’d still be alive.

A few facts before we continue:

•          Emma was my very best friend in the world, she had been ever since my 5th birthday when our parties happened to coincide at Brewster bears place and we were both scared of the slide.

•          Amber Kenney was the school bitch. She had made it her mission in life to make people like Emma and myself utterly miserable. I hated her.

•          I didn’t know I could do it.



I’d stayed behind that day to finish my art project, an abstract sculpture that was meant to represent peace and love (I only add that small piece of extra information because it makes what happens next seem all the more surreal) that was due in a couple of days. I remember grabbing my jacket, checking my sculpture one last time and saying goodbye to my art teacher very clearly, but my memory gets a little hazy after this. I think Sigmund Freud had it right when he talked about repression, I certainly find it difficult to remember details of that afternoon, even though it was the most important afternoon of my life. The memories should be engraved on my brain in glorious Technicolor, but all I can manage is a grainy image, rather like a film that has been damaged by time.

    I remember stepping into the car park and seeing Emma waiting by her car, smiling as she always was. I pulled up my hood against the rain and started towards her when I was intercepted by Amber Kenney, also smiling, but resembling the grinning cat in Alice and Wonderland too closely for me to be comfortable. “Hey Caitlynn!” she’d cried. I nodded and tried to walk past her. She put her hand out to stop me. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” she’d asked innocently, batting her eyelids at me. “Home”. I replied, trying once again to get past her.

“I want you to stay and talk for a bit.” I stared at her, not in fear but in irritation.

“Look Amber, this is obviously some elaborate plan so that you can insult me, but I’m tired and I want to go home so can you just say whatever it is you want to say, I can pretend that I care and then we can both go on our merry ways happy in the knowledge that we can cooperate?” Amber’s smile faded. “I’m getting a little tired of your attitude. I’m trying to be polite, so don’t get clever with me, bitch.” I sighed.

“I’m so terribly sorry Amber,” I said sarcastically “What does your highness want today?”

“Hey, drop the attitude.”

“Fuck off Amber, for christ’s sake, we both know I’m not scared of you so just say what you have to say and let me go home.”

“I said drop the fucking attitude. You don’t speak to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however I want to, ok? You’re not my mother.”

“You know people like you make me sick, thinking you’re better than everybody. Just because you get better grades than me doesn’t make you better.”

“No, Amber, you’re right, my grades don’t make me better than you. The fact that I am a good person and not a shallow, heartless, bitch who’s going to end up working in Primark because she hasn’t got the brains to do anything else, that’s what makes me better than you.”

“Fuck you Caitlynn, brains aren’t everything. What about men? You think any man will ever want you looking like that? You’ll end up lonely and fat-well fatter- because you spent all that time on brains and not enough time realising what an ugly bitch you are.”

“Yeah, well Amber, I’m a size ten, just like you. So if I end up fat then so will you. Oh and by the way, you’re not even that good looking. Your eyes are too far apart”.

    Out of nowhere, Amber’s thin, dainty, perfectly manicured hand made sharp contact with the left side of my face with as much force as she could put behind it. She slapped me. Then again, with her other hand this time, then she yanked my hood down and grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled, intent on ripping it from the roots. I screamed in pain and tried to hit her back, wildly and blindly lashing out at air except for the occasions that I managed to make contact with flesh. We continued in this way until somebody else joined in the fight, Emma who had run from one end of the car park to the other to save her friend, and who yanked Amber away from me, begging her to stop.

    It was very quick, not painful or lasting which is the only comfort I can take from what happened. One minute Emma was dragging a hysterical Amber away from me, begging her to stop. The next, Amber, blind with fury and fuelled on pure adrenaline turned on her and pushed as hard as humanly possible. I watched as my friend lost her balance and flailed for something to cling on to, before crashing to the ground and hitting her head on the curb that ran alongside the college.  Amber didn’t notice at first, that Emma didn’t move after she hit the floor. She didn’t notice the pool of blood beginning to form around the head of my best friend. She didn’t even notice that Emma’s eyes, wide with shock, were now staring unseeing at the sky, void of all the life they usually sparkled with. Amber didn’t notice at first. I did.

    I ran to her, throwing Amber off me easily as my own adrenaline kicked in. I crouched next to her and said her name, stupidly I know, but I couldn’t stop myself from calling for her, hoping against plain fact that she was somehow alright. When it finally sank in, that she was dead, properly dead, not like in the films, when I was sitting there, stroking her face while she lay in a pool of her own blood and Amber was quietly sobbing behind me I...I think that was when it must have kicked in. I’d never experienced a death before, never felt pain or grief like that. Tears were simply not enough, didn’t say enough words, couldn’t dull the pain, yet they still flowed freely, like I’d never known. My whole body was racked with sobs so bad I could hardly breathe as I thought about all the things Emma had wanted to do and be and would never get the chance to. She wanted to be a lawyer, to get married to write a book...I thought of the reams of paper covered in scribbles that inhabited her room, each a plot for a new novel she would write, novels that would never be finished now, stories that would never be told. I thought of her parents, how I would have to break it to them that I was the one to blame for their daughter’s demise...how could I...how could I tell them...and Tom...Emma’s boyfriend would not survive without her...how...what would I say....

    And then a new emotion took over, just wiped over the grief and dulled it, almost as if I’d been drugged. I turned and glared as Amber sobbed, a huddled mess on the ground. She glanced up at me warily as I stood over her, filled with a rage I had never known. “You....”words failed me as I pointed at her with shaking fingers. “You...murdering BITCH!” Amber struggled to her feet, her hands stretched defensively in front of her. “No...no I didn’t mean...no I...it was an accident!” She edged backwards as I advanced. “You killed her. You killed her. She was my BEST FRIEND and you KILLED her! I’ll kill you, I swear to God I will fucking murder you just like you murdered her!” Amber looked terrified as she found her back pressed up against the college wall, unable to retreat any further. “I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry...”

“SORRY?” I screeched.

    I’m not sure what happened to me in those few minutes when pure fury was in control, it was like some sort electricity flowed through my veins, I felt invincible, powerful, like I could do anything. I suddenly felt an impulse to raise my hands and point them at her, an irresistible, odd urge to point my hands at Amber and scream. Slowly, I lifted my arms, my hands clenched into fists. I paused for a second, then, with all my might I unfurled my hands and yelled “Murderer!” Let me tell you, nobody was more surprised than me when bright blue sparks erupted from my fingers and flew at Amber, like a stream of lightening pinning her to the wall. She screamed and convulsed as the blue sparks danced across her skin, then, as suddenly as they had come the sparks fizzled out.

    Amber gave one last spasm then fell the floor, her eyes staring up accusingly at me, unblinking.                      I pulled my hands back examine my fingertips and was astonished to find that they were glowing bright blue just under the skin. Suddenly I was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, every way you can be exhausted. I crumpled to the wet ground next to Amber and adopted the foetal position, pulling my hood up against the sudden wind. I rocked myself gently back and forth, until I was focusing on only that, working out which muscles to use to propel myself forwards and back, blocking out everything else.

    But eventually you can’t block it out anymore. I lay on the ground and realised that not only was I in a car park with two dead girls, I had murdered one of them, electrocuted them with strange blue sparks that come out of my fingers. It sounded insane. Maybe it was, maybe I’d dreamed it. I turned again hesitantly to look at the image of Emma still laying with her head pressed at an impossible angle on the curb and a pool of dark blood matted in her hair. No, I didn’t believe my mind was capable of imagining something that horrible. Shakily I pulled out my mobile phone and dialled.

“Mum” I said, my voice trembling. “I need your help”.



Chapter two



  My mum had taken it suspiciously well. She’d taken one look at Emma then spent a while examining Amber, looking for any marks. She found a tiny blue star shaped scar on her chest where the sparks had hit her but that was all. I just sat on the ground and watched her numbly as she carried out her methodical examinations. “Right sweetie” she’d said, crouching down in front of me. “I need you to think really hard about what I’m going to ask you. Did anybody see you?” I thought about it. The car park had been deserted when I’d left the college, apart from Emma and Amber, and I was pretty sure that no one else had seen. I relayed this information to my mum, who nodded. “Good. That makes things easier.”

“We have to call the police!” I said, “I...I killed someone, mum.”

“No...”

“Yes! We have to, I have to confess!”

“No!” I was shocked at how sharp she was. “What would we tell them Caitlynn? That you killed a girl by shooting sparks out of your fingers? They’d take you away in a straight jacket. No. I know what to do. You go get in the car.”

I got in the car. Then after about fifteen minutes mum joined me and drove home without saying a word. “Go to your room” was the first thing she said when we got home, and, because I was so afraid and messed up I did, for the first time in my life.

    Once I was in my room I let the fear, the grief, the torment have me. The image of Emma dead in the rain was one that I knew I wouldn’t get rid of in a hurry so I let it consume me for a while. I wanted desperately to know what my mum was doing, what was happening downstairs but I was too afraid to go down. I thought my mum was furious with me and at that moment I’d never been so scared in all my life. I needed my mum to help me, to love me and reassure me.  Another part of it was cowardice. This was my problem I knew but I didn’t know what to do, I wanted my mum to deal with it, to get rid of it and let me wake up tomorrow with everything gone. That was why I stayed all night in my room, curled up on my bed listening to my ipod on repeat and trying to let the sound of the rain beating gently against my window soothe me.

    I’d almost drifted off when I heard my bedroom door creak open and my mum pad in, sitting softly on the edge of my bed. “You ok?” she asked, pushing my hair back from my eyes. I nodded and tried to force a smile. “I’m calmer.” There was a pause while my mum played with my duvet. “So what...what’s going on?” I asked. She turned to me too quickly and smiled at me too brightly before saying “Oh don’t worry about that sweetheart, let me handle it. By morning it will all be over.” I wondered why she didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Now, you’ve had an exhausting day so get some sleep and try not to worry about all this mess.” She turned as if to leave but I grabbed her hand, forcing her to sit again. “Mum, something big happened today...to me. I...I shot sparks out of my hands and killed a girl. And my best friend died and...I mean you took it so calmly when I told you how it had happened,  you didn’t even question...you...did you know that I could...did you know?”

My mum smiled a sad smile and cupped my face in her hand. “Of course I knew sweetie, I’m your mother, it’s my job to know. And that’s not the kind of thing you can miss. Yes...yes I’ve always known.” I opened my mouth in shock and began babbling incoherent questions but she put her finger over my lips. “Tomorrow. There will be plenty of time for questions tomorrow. Now sleep!”

  Obediently I lay down and watched as my mum walked towards the door, then paused with her hand on the handle. “Caitlynn, whatever happens...if we...well whatever comes of all this, I want you to know that I love you. I love you with all my heart baby and I always will. And it will all work out eventually. It will all be ok eventually. Just remember that. It’s not...it won’t be forever.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going to happen?”

“Nothing honey. It’s just your old mum being ridiculous. Sleep tight.” She left, leaving me confused and with no hope of doing what she asked and sleeping.

    It was a long night.



*        *          *

    On the 28th June, the morning after I’d killed Amber Kenney, I went downstairs groggily to find an empty house. No dad sitting cheerily at the breakfast bar reading his paper, no sister sitting on the settee, moodily nodding her head to the tunes blasting out of her purple ipod, no brother laying across the carpet watching cartoons, and weirdest of all, no mum rushing around in her suit trying to find her car keys, pack three lunches and do her hair all at once.  It was eerily silent. I decided that rather than panic I would stay there and wait for them to come home or call, though I couldn’t imagine why they would all abandon the house without even telling me. Panic clawed at my insides, pulling its way up my throat. They wouldn’t abandon the house without me...not normally.

    I shook myself and turned on the television to distract me. It was set on the news channel. That would do. I watched a story about a plane crash, then one about a young girl who had been missing for three days, and then a picture of my college car park flashed up, cordoned off with yellow police tape. My stomach turned over. I turned up the volume in time to hear the news reporter say “The bodies of three young girls have been discovered in the car park of a local college early this morning. Police believe that the girls were attacked for their car as they left the college yesterday afternoon, however as yet nobody has been brought in for questioning. The girls have been identified as 18 year old Amber Kenney, 17 year old Emma Layton and 17 year old Caitylnn Grey, police continue their inquiries...”A picture of myself and Emma sat in the college canteen flashed up alongside a school picture of Amber, then a number for witnesses to call.  I switched off the television.

    “I didn’t want you to find out like this.” I jumped and spun around to find my mum stood behind me, arms folded across her chest protectively, as if she were hugging herself. “Find out what?” I asked, standing up. Mum didn’t answer, just stared at me as silent tears poured down her cheeks. “Find out what, mum?”

“That you’re special.” She replied softly.

“Special?” She nodded.

“Always have been, ever since you were a baby. But then, we knew you would be...you...you were a beautiful baby, beautiful, but try taking care of a child that can electrocute you every time they get mad.” She rolled up her sleeves slowly to reveal a host of star shaped scars decorating her forearm.  “I didn’t care though, didn’t mind, I got used to it after a while and they were only little shocks because you were a baby. You’re much more powerful now.” I stared at her arm and gently traced the scars with my fingertips. “I’ve gotten good at hiding them with foundation and make-up, they don’t take much, and they’re getting fainter as I get older.” She rolled down her sleeves.

    “When you reached your first birthday it disappeared. Just vanished and I thought that it had gone for good...I thought that I’d be able to keep you. But they told me that the ability occasionally disappears then reappears and that I had to watch you until...until now.” I stepped back. “Mum, what’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I love you so much but...you’re not mine anymore. It’s time for you to go.”

“Go where? What are you talking about? Mum? Mum?” She didn’t answer, just stared at me sadly for a few seconds then turned and walked into the kitchen leaving me alone. They let me take one step forward before I felt the sharp sting of the needle pierce the skin at the top of my right arm. I took another clumsy step forward before sagging into the arms of someone stood behind me, then I took one last glance at the home I had grown up and allowed the drug to take control.



Chapter three



    “Well Jesus Mark how much did you give her?”

“The usual...I swear the usual.”

“Well she isn’t waking up is she? How long ago did you give it her?”

“God I don’t know...three, four hours.”

“Three, four hours? Jesus Mark check your sheet, we need to be specific.”

    At first I thought I was dreaming. I’d never heard either of those voices before and I didn’t know anybody called Mark so naturally I just thought, you’re dreaming go back to sleep. But the voices wouldn’t stop, they just kept getting louder and louder until they were uncomfortably loud, almost as if they were shouting in my ear. I screwed up my face and tried to move away.

“Will, Will, you see that? She twitched! She’s not dead she twitched.”

“What?”

“Look she twitched.” They were getting louder, painfully loud. I moved my face again.

“Will!” SHUT UP! I tried to yell. SHUT UP, MY HEAD IS SPLITTING!

“Will she moaned. She made a noise!”

“Get the light.”

    The beautiful silence that followed was interrupted by a light, a harsh concentrated light that was being shined directly onto my closed eyelids. It hurt. I moaned again and tried to lift my hand to bat away the offensive light. “Ah, good girl. Come on Caitlynn, open your eyes sweetie.” I tried to lift my lids but it felt like they had been glued to my cheeks. The light continued. “Open your eyes honey. It’s ok, come on.” I tried harder, contorting my face in an effort. “Almost there. You’re doing really well.” The light persisted and it was that which drove me on. I’d do anything to stop that pain. Eventually with one last push I managed to force open my eyes.  At first it hurt even more, it was too bright, too white. All I could make out were a couple of blurred silhouettes standing over me, but I couldn’t see any details. One of the silhouettes was very close, peering into my face, the other was standing further back biting his nails nervously, probably the one who thought he’d killed me. I guessed that the one leaning over me was Will, and that became apparent when my eyes had focused enough to let me read his name tag. William Turner, supervisor.  Supervisor of what?

    “Hello Caitlynn. Can you hear me?” Will leaned closer as he said it, checking my pupils. “Yes.” I tried to say but all that came out was an odd moaning sound. I nodded instead. “Good. I want you to try and sit up for me, ok?” I nodded again and hastily tried to pull myself upright, only to regret it when my head felt like it was about to explode. I fell back down again. “Oops, easy. You’ve been unconscious for a while and I’ll bet your head feels like it doesn’t belong to you so let’s go slow ok?” Will slipped his arm around my back and took my hand with his free arm. “Ok, ready, one, two, three...” Gently he eased me up in a way that hurt, but didn’t make me feel like I was about to die. The other guy, Mark, had edged forward slowly throughout my adjustment carrying something that looked like a cloth. He passed it to Will then looked at me apologetically. “I’m sorry Caitlynn, I may have overdone the dosage a little. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Will pressed the damp cloth to my head gently while I glared at Mark.

“Any better?” he asked, stepping back. I nodded slowly. I shouldn’t have. I managed to make it clear through a wild hand gesture and a gagging sound that I was about to be sick but by that time it was too late. Will shoved the bucket under my mouth anyway but by then most of the damage had been done. Mark exited the room rather quickly after that.

    “I’m...I’m so sorry” I managed to croak. Will just laughed.

“You’re not the first, you won’t be the last. Besides, we should be apologising to you. We screwed up the dose. Well, Mark did.” On cue, Mark reappeared with a glass of water.

“I’ve told Kelly. She’ll be here in a sec.” He handed me the water and stepped back as if afraid I was going to throw up again. “I’m fine.” I assured him. “My head hurts but I’m not going to be sick.” There was a pause while I drank the water.  Then I remembered something, something that you would have thought would have been at the forefront of my mind, but something the pain had blocked out. “Wait,” I said groggily. “Where the hell am I?”

“Sorry honey, we’re not here to answer that, we’re here to make sure that you’re fit to go see the person who can explain. And, I reckon, after about an hour you will be, once that headache has gone off.” Will smiled reassuringly. I was momentarily sidetracked.

“You’re American!” I accused, pointing at him. He laughed again.

“I am. And you’re British.”

“I am. And I still want to know what’s going on. Where am I? Who are you?”

“Please Caitlynn. I promise that all of that will be answered later. I just want you to relax and get rid of that headache.”

“But...”

“Please.”

    There was something about that way he said it that made me shut up. It wasn’t intimidating or nasty, just pleading, like he already found his job hard enough without me making it more difficult. I drank my water.  “Am I in America?” I asked suddenly. Will stared at me in surprise.

“No. No you’re not. Is that because I’m American?” I nodded. Will laughed and shook his head. I couldn’t help noticing that he was exceptionally good looking, with long-ish chestnut brown hair and dark brown eyes which peered out at me from under a layer of ultra-long eyelashes. He had a gorgeous crinkly smile and big white teeth, and a cute habit of flicking his fringe back every five seconds. For a kidnapper he was lovely.

    “I feel better now Will, can I go and see the person who will explain.”

“No.”

“Why not.”

“Because I know that you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your fingers are glowing.” It took me a second to realise what he meant. When I finally did get it and looked down to see if he was correct, I was astounded to see my fingertips glowing bright blue, just like they did when I’d killed Amber. I gasped. “It’s ok.” Will said. “They’ll calm down when the pain goes away. Any strong emotions or feeling will cause that until you learn to control it.” I gaped at my hands in shock then I stuffed them under my legs and sat on them.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of” Will said softly. I kept my mouth clamped shut, afraid of what would come out if I opened it. “I’ve had headaches a million times and I’ve been angry or afraid too and this has never happened before. Why suddenly now?” Will leaned against the side of my bed. “Well, we don’t know. It’s something we’ve tried to figure out for years but we don’t have an answer as yet. It seems that your ability first appears a few days after birth and then disappears after about a year. Then it may or may not come back, however it generally does around puberty.”

“But I’m seventeen; I went through puberty a while ago. Why only now?”

“It’s different for everybody, sometimes it comes back the second you hit puberty, sometimes is waits. In your case it may have simply been that you hadn’t previously experienced an emotion strong enough to draw it out. Your ability might not have been planning to re-emerge...but whatever happened must have been powerful enough to start it up again. We’re currently testing to see exactly what it takes to bring it out.”

“When you say we...who do you mean exactly?”

“The people who work here, and in all the other institutes across the country...”

“Institute?” Will looked as if he wanted to bite his tongue out.

“Look I’ve told you more than I should already. Please just wait.”

      I was suddenly quite angry. “Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” I demanded, sliding off the bed and facing Will dead on. “I mean, stop me if I’m crossing lines here, but I was kidnapped this morning. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me...”

“Nothing is going to happen to you...”

“Oh really? And how do I know that? No offence Will you seem like a really nice person, but I don’t know you from Adam. You could be a mass murderer for all I know and you could have brought me here to demand a ransom and kill me or something...I mean, I’m scared! I want to go home, I want to see my family...I...do you know what, what am I even doing here? This is the 21st century, you can’t just kidnap someone. If you’re really not here to hurt me then let me walk out of that door, right now.” I stood up, challenging him. Will didn’t move as I edged towards the door, just watched me sadly. I continued gingerly, puzzled by his lack of response. I paused. “If you walk out of that door someone will just bring you back. It’s easier for us...easier for you, if you cooperate, Caitlynn.” He stood up slowly and gently guided me backwards, back to the bed. “I want to go home.” I repeated as tears started sliding down my cheeks. “Why am I here? Is it because I killed Amber? I...I want to go home.” Will put his arm around me and rocked me like a baby, patting my back comfortingly. “It’s not fair.” I moaned. There was a long pause.

“No,” Will replied quietly. “No it’s not.”

    The door at the end of the room swung open suddenly to reveal a haggard looking girl towing a mop and bucket. “Hello Kelly.” Will greeted her, standing up. Kelly scowled at him. She was pretty but stress had taken its toll on her. Her long blonde hair was pulled pack into a messy ponytail, she wore no makeup and her slender frame was covered by baggy, torn grey trousers and an old t-shirt that were not befitting of a young woman. She glanced around the room and visibly winced when she saw the mess I had made of the floor. “I hate it when they puke.” She sighed, plunging her mop viciously into the bucket. “I’m sorry.” I said, feeling terrible as she began to clean it up. She didn’t look at me. “Kel.” Will reproached her gently. Kelly sighed again and looked up at me.

“Not your fault, Mark fucked up the dose. Not the first time he’s done it either. They’ll get rid of him if he’s not careful.” She continued mopping ferociously. “Oh that reminds me Will, Shoreman says she’ll see her now.” I looked at Will questioningly. 

“Time to go Miss Grey.” He smiled.



Chapter four



    Shoreman was apparently a middle-aged woman with a very severe haircut and wire rimmed glasses. Her personality, it seemed, matched her hair cut. The first I knew of her was when a heavy brown folder was slammed down on the table in front of me and a chair pulled back so ferociously that its legs screeched in protest across the floor. Then, Shoreman in all her furious glory threw herself into the chair and glared at me. “So, Caitlynn Grey.”  She said, tapping her long nails on the table top. It wasn’t a question but I felt myself nodding anyway. “You are seventeen?” I nodded again.  “And your mother is Annette Grey, and your Father Peter?” I nodded a third time. She paused, opened the brown file and began to thumb through it thoughtfully. “And yesterday...you murdered your classmate Amber Kenney?”

      I froze. So this was about Amber. I looked around the room I was in again and noticed for the first time the tape recorder in the corner, and the guard stood beside the door. In fact, the room was an almost exact replica of all the police interview rooms I had seen on the television, only the room I was in was completely white. I realised that Shoreman was still watching me, waiting for an answer. All I could manage was another nod. She nodded in reply. “Right well, basics established I’d better fill you in hadn’t I Caitlynn?”

“Please” I mumbled. I had never been so intimidated in my life. This woman was terrifying. She thumbed through the file again briefly before setting it down and staring at me through her glasses.

      “As I’m sure you’re aware, Caitlynn, you aren’t exactly a ‘normal’ girl. You have a...talent let’s call it, that not many people posses. Now up until now this wasn’t a problem, your gift was dormant and we had assumed it would stay that way, until yesterday when we were informed that you had accidentally killed a young girl. As you can probably appreciate, this is a big problem.” Shoreman paused and started folding the corner of the brown paper file back absentmindedly. “The institute has a special relationship with the police force. They understand that occasionally a gifted person’s ability will flair and accidents may happen, in short, they overlook certain cases when they know the cause of death is one of you. In return for their cooperation we take the aforementioned gifted person and help them to control their ability. It saves a lot of questions from the public that the police cannot answer.” She glanced at me, not to see how I was handling the information but to check I was paying attention. “Here, at the institute, we help you to understand your ability and to control it. You aren’t alone Caitlynn, there are many youngsters in your position, all of whom you will meet during your life here, all with the same or very similar gift to yours...”

“You keep calling it my gift...what exactly is it? How can I do it?”

“That is a question we intend to answer in due time. And please don’t interrupt; you aren’t the only girl that I have to see today.” Shoreman glared at me for a few seconds before continuing.

“In a minute or two you will be taken to see a doctor, then you will be taken to your room where there are some clothes and other essentials, you roommate will probably explain the rest to you, Gemma is...talkative, shall we say. Tomorrow I will check back with you to see how you are settling in and your mother has requested a visit for the day after tomorrow. You will have a busy few days Miss Grey.”  Shoreman looked me over once more and stood up to leave. She’d been with me for less than five minutes and had indulged very little information.

“Wait,” I said, as her slender frame approached the door. “You said, ‘my life here’...how long are you planning on keeping me here?” She turned around.

“Indefinitely. This is your home now, Caitlynn.”

The door slammed behind her.



*      *      *

    Will was waiting for me outside the door. He smiled warmly and handed me a bundle of material that I assumed were some clothes, and which I took without really meaning to. Everything suddenly had a fuzzy, slightly blurry quality to it like I was walking through a dream, and like nothing was really real. To be honest, at that point, part of me still thought it was all a dream, a horrible nightmare that I would wake up from soon. The rational part of me knew that my imagination had never been that active and that there was no way I could imagine such intricate details, such as the fact that the corridor I was being marched down smelt like disinfectant and that I could see that Will hadn’t shaved for a few days.

No, this was all very, painfully real.

    “So has that cleared things up a little?” Will asked as we made our way down a seemingly never-ending corridor. I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Well, what don’t you understand?” A thousand questions stampeded through my head, begging to be picked first. I started with the one I thought most important.

“Are you really going to keep me here for the rest of my life?” Will looked uncomfortable. “Yes...Yes I’m afraid they are.”

“Forever? But they can’t...I mean what about college? And what about my life? I’m going to be a teacher...they can’t keep me here forever.”

“They have a wonderful education system set up here with legitimate testing and everything. The standards of teaching are excellent.”

“But after that...I...are you telling me that I will never go out into the real world again?”

“Well...they’ve done a pretty good job of creating a world inside here. If you want to be a teacher you still can, but you’ll teach the kids here...”

“No, fuck that Will.” I stopped abruptly. “They can’t do this! This is...this is KIDNAPPING! They can’t just take me from my home and keep me here; they just...I mean I shouldn’t even have to explain this it’s just goddam basic human rights!”

    Will just sighed again. “Look, do yourself a favour and calm down before I take you in to see the Doctor, ok? He has one solution for ‘excited’ teenagers and its heavy sedation. You think the headache you had earlier was bad? That is nothing compared to how you feel after Doctor Watts sedatives, trust me, I’ve had one. I know you’re pissed, I would be too, I know you’re confused and mad and scared but I need you to calm down. Do this later when you’re alone with your roommate. They’ve put you with Gemma...she’s awesome so I’m sure you’ll get on. I’m coming with you into the Doctor’s office and I will stay with you if you want. Just...just don’t yell anymore, please.” His eyes pleaded with me again. I looked closer at the man who had been so kind to me. He wasn’t as old as I’d initially thought, he was maybe twenty-two, twenty-three but the premature worry lines across his forehead had thrown me. There was something else too, something in the way he looked at me. He looked like a frightened child caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. He looked scared...and he looked tired. Furiously I clamped my lips together. Will nodded and we continued.

    Doctor Watts was friendlier that I’d expected. He performed all the usual medical check-ups, weight, height, blood pressure, but when he approached me with a syringe I started to get a little panicky. “Don’t worry Caitlynn it’s just a represent. We can’t have you sparking up every time you get mad can we? You’d hurt someone.” I looked at Will. He nodded. I relaxed my arm.

    I didn’t pass out until I was halfway down the never-ending corridor.





Chapter five

    I woke up around fourteen hours later to the sound of my screams.  A pair of strong hands were gripping my shoulders, shaking me violently. I gasped and jerked sideways in an attempt to escape and promptly rolled off the bed. I hit the ground with a thud. “Jesus! Careful. I was only trying to wake you up...you were yelling.” A girl stood above me, her short blonde hair sticking up comically above her head, her eyes smudged with yesterday’s make up. She squinted at me. I sat on the cold floor dazed for a few seconds before reality sunk in. Then I spoke. “You’re American.” I mumbled. The girl laughed.

“Will told me you’d say that.”

    I hauled myself up from the floor. “Sorry about that.” I said as the girl me a glass of water. She smiled wearily. “It’s not your fault. What do they expect? They dump you in here unconscious and expect me to pick up the pieces at two in the morning.” I sipped the water, feeling bad. She scratched her head.  “Ah well, never mind. What do you expect, huh?” She leaned over and took a pair of square shaped glasses from her bedside table. “Can’t see a fucking thing without these.” Gemma put her glasses on and blinked a few times. I smiled. I liked her already.

    “So you’re Caitlynn right?”

“Yeah. And you’re...Gemma?”

“I am.  When’d they bring you in?”

“Um...” I wasn’t sure, there were no windows and few clocks in the institute. Trying to figure out the time was a difficult task and relied heavily on guess work. “Yesterday...I think.” She nodded with understanding. “Yesterday was pretty low and Dr Watts’ part I have to say. He’s usually pretty much straight down the line with you, if he’s going to sedate you he generally tells you. It’s weird that he just knocked you out. You have a headache?”

“No...not really.”

“That’s weird too. Last time I was sedated I had the worse fucking migraine of my life when I came around.”

“He didn’t say it was a sedative, he called it a...a represent.”

“A represent?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to...to um stop me ‘sparking up every time I get mad’. Will said it was ok.”

“Will was pretty pissed when they brought you in I have to say. I heard him having a go at someone outside about using you as a crash test dummy. I don’t think he knew what it was that Dr Watts gave you. Come to think of it, neither do I. I haven’t heard them use that before...a represent.” Gemma looked worried.

    I took her silence as an opportunity to survey my surroundings. The room I was in was basic, large, but basic. The walls, floor and ceiling were painted white, with the only splash of colour coming from the striped rug that sat on the floor between two single beds. The beds were placed in the bottom corners of the room, with two large wardrobes occupying the remaining corners. A large, heavy set metal door resembling the door to a prison cell split the wall between the beds, and another, lighter, wooden door was set on the wall opposite. The wooden door was ajar and through the crack I could just about make out the shape of a toilet and a washbasin. A bare light bulb hung for the ceiling. “Welcome to paradise.” Gemma muttered bitterly. I glanced up at her in alarm. She stared back soberly.

    “So, what spark are you?” My bewildered expression answered her question. “What they haven’t explained about sparks to you?”

“They haven’t really explained anything.”

“For fucksake...they’re getting worse. I don’t know how they think they can just throw you in here without explaining about sparks...You know there was a time, before Shoreman showed up, that new arrivals were told everything before being brought in here. There was nothing they didn’t know, they took the time to actually show you what was happening and what to expect. Shoreman...Shoreman is just a prize fucking bitch. She doesn’t give a shit about us, it’s all figures and numbers and targets. Get as many in as she can and keep things running no matter what the cost. Fuck I hate her.” I shrank back ever so slightly. “I’ll tell you, I’ll show you, get up.” Gingerly I rose from the bed. “What spark are you means what colour is your spark? It tells you a lot about what kind of person you are. Watch.” Gemma stepped back and held her hands out towards me. I watched, mesmerised as little bolts of purple lightening jumped across her fingertips and then congregated in her palms where they formed a ball of light. Suddenly the sparks shot up to the ceiling and bathed the whole room in glorious fluorescent colour. I stared open mouthed. Then the light was gone and Gemma stood grinning at me from across the room. “Purple sparks show bravery apparently. The colour depends on my mood though, like if I’m angry they’ll be deep purple, but if I’m feeling particularly mellow then they’re almost lilac. Always some shade of purple though.” I stayed silent. Gemma’s sparks had been deep, dark purple. She sensed where my thoughts were. “They haven’t been lilac for a while.” Her smile wasn’t bitter this time though, just sad, like she’d exhausted all her anger in her light show. She moved closer.

    “So, what spark are you?” I paused.

“Blue.”

“Blue? We don’t get many blues. Purity, that’s what blue represents, you know like innocence and a kind heart.” I stayed quiet, unable to keep the image of Amber out of my head. “Show me.” Gemma demanded, sitting down on her bed. I stared at my hands.

“I can’t. I can’t...control it like you.”

“Sure you can. You just need to get mad.” I tried. I tried very hard to squeeze the sparks from my fingers but they wouldn’t come, despite Gemma’s encouragement. “Come on Caitlynn!” She said repeatedly. “You can do it!” After around five minutes her comments became less supportive. “Come the fuck on Caitlynn, it’s not that fucking hard!” I pushed harder. “Jesus Christ, you’re shit at this. Come on!” I pushed until a vein popped out on my forehead. “You’re boring me now. Just give in.” A ripple of anger went though me.

“I’m trying!” I snapped, and was astonished to see a flurry of blue sparks erupt from my fingertips. Gemma smiled. “That’s what we wanted!”The sparks continued. “They’re such a pretty colour, your sparks. Vivid and bright. You’re lucky.” I almost laughed.

    The sparks disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. Gemma examined my face with concern. “You look tired. We should get some sleep.”

“I just woke up.” I complained without much conviction, I was tired.

“Well it won’t hurt to go back to sleep will it? Come on, your stuff is in there.” She pointed to one of the wardrobes. I opened it to find that all my clothes had somehow been brought here without my knowing. I opened the draws. My underwear, pyjamas, slippers, everything was here. The small familiarity amongst all the fear was a huge comfort, and it was unbelievably wonderful to climb into my favourite pair of pj’s and settle down onto the single bed that was now mine. 

    “So...what happens now?” I asked, crossing my legs on my bed. Gemma had moved across to her own bed. She sighed. “Well, you sleep in here, eat in the dining room, go to college in the education centre, visit Dr Watts around once a month, and see your family when they visit. They have some recreational things going on, a cinema, a bowling alley, things like that. Small, stupid things that are supposed to make up for the fact that we are prisoners.”

“And how long do we do this for?” I was afraid of the answer.

“We do this for the rest of our lives Caitlynn.” She pulled back her sheets and climbed into bed, then she carefully removed her glasses and lay down.  “We do this for the rest of our lives.”

“How long have you been here Gemma?” There was a long pause.

“A while”.

    I stared at her for quite some time, watching as she tossed and turned until eventually her breathing became deep and even. Her words had chilled me, chilled me more than she could ever know; I had been counting on her to comfort me, to reassure me and tell me that they were just trying to scare me. But she was more bitter than the rest; left to rot on her own in some godforsaken cell for god knows how many years. I watched her with an odd mixture of pity and anger, knowing there was nothing she could do for me...and still hating her for it.

    I couldn’t possibly have known that it was I who was to be her saviour.