The Hidden (Intro)

         We were but a few single individuals, learning to cope with a set of genetic mutations that would leave the average human mind reeling. We looked through the same eyes as every other person, but we saw the world differently, and we reacted to it differently as well. We were humanoid yes, but by many's standards we were not to be considered human. We were simply and aptly named, The Hidden. Because even though we interacted with people on a daily basis, carried out average human lives, and appeared to the everyday populace as normal individuals. We are anything but, and we keep that aspect of ourselves locked away, hidden inside ourselves for only us to know about lest we become a tool for society. That's how we have always existed, how we were raised to live our lives, in the shadows. We can be your neighbor, co-worker, friend or foe, and you will never know better.

         From a young age we are taught to hide what we truly are, because our parents feared what society would do with us if we were ever to be discovered. The things we could do, these so called abilities we had, made us dangerous, a weapon waiting to be molded. And yet we carried on our lives like your average human would, and we some how managed to thrive this way.

         To the average human mind, the things I could do seemed fantastic, powers I guess, that made me something special. But to me it was always considered a curse. Just another thing that set me apart, another dysfunction that made me a freak, unhuman. At the ripe old age of nineteen and a senior ar the local human high school I was an average student, stayed out of the lime light and skated by on B's. It was harder than it seemed, to stay below the radar, especially when it was as simple as picking the answers out of the teachers brain, or delving into the vast expanse of accumulated knowledge forever stored in my brain. I often skipped PE simply so I didn't have to regulate speed and strength to match everyone else's. It was an annoyance, at best, to have to constantly double check myself to make sure I appeared normal to the average human populace. And to have to endure the everyday high school drama and bullies and be expected not to fight back was exhausting.

         My fingers were clenched into tight white knuckled fists, nails digging into my palms creating little crescent moon shaped indents in my flesh. My jaw was clenched tight, teeth grinding in frustration and nostrils flaring in anger. A thousand thoughts filtered through my mind at that moment, so many ways to lash out, to fight back, to cause this miniscule little human bully only half the pain she inflicted upon the students around her. As controlled as I was noted to be, there was just something about this particular girl that irked me. Maybe it was because she had tormented my best friend and I since we were ten, or maybe it was simply the fact that she was your typical ditzy blonde cheerleader and I despised her for being so cookie cutter average with so much ease while I struggled with it every moment of every day.

         Add to the situation the mental ramblings of a couple hundred students and teachers alike and I had something equating to a migraine brewing in my head. So needless to say I was one pissed off hormonal nineteen year old girl. And trying to gather my thoughts and calm myself down was like trying to calm down the bull before it destroyed the whole china shop.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
        There are some things even the most collected of people cannot control, and for me, it was my anger. As calm, cool, and collected as I may appear on the outside, inside I constantly stew in my anger and loathing for the ease at which those around me live. They were so completely unaware of the world and it's inhabitants, completely obtuse as far as the true horrors of society and the things they thought went bump in the night are really just the things that run from the true monsters. Monsters like me. My name is Nicolette Adic, and to many I appear to be your average 19 year old, rest assured I am anything but.
        There are many times when I wish I was an average teenager, when I would beg whatever Gods who would listen to allow me a boring and pacifistic life, filled with nothing but monotony and repetitious acts. But of course I was cursed to the existence of The Hidden. When I was young I thought being abnormally strong, abnormally fast, and pulling thoughts from people's head was a cool thing, and yet as I continue to grow so do the things I can do, and with that I have grown to loathe my own existence. I started out with, for The Hidden, your average speed, strength, and excelled senses, but my own personal gift of "mind reading" developed when I was roughly five. With every year that has passed since this so called gift has mutated into something so much more than it had begun as. In the last fourteen years I have learned to not only hear others thoughts, but manipulate them, to an extent. Nothing like mind control, more like I'm simply able to insert my own thoughts into theirs, and sort of persuade them to see things differently. It can be something as simple as changing a decision from yes to no, or as complex as making them want to go to the local grocery store and eat a tub of ben and jerrys in the middle of the store. There are many facets to this little curse of mine, and the so called gifts don't stop there. For as long as I can remember I have been able to do these extraordinary things, things that if any other teenager had been able to do they would have thought themselves a super hero.