I don't now why but I ended up starting to write something, don't know what it is, don't really care to be honest I just wondered what you think.
Hi, my name’s 93561 or at least that’s what I’m known as in the infirmary. I don’t remember my name before that. You know it’s funny, we live our whole lives and you don’t even notice us. We are the race that is yet to be discovered; or rather uncovered. You see people like us. Were not normal. We are the elite few who are born with special gifts from God; we are told that we are chosen before we are even born. We are the chosen cursed few, the ones that never manage to escape.
You see the second we were born we were taken away. Hidden away from the rest of the world, hidden because they were afraid of what we could do. The infirmary takes us the second after birth and we are marked and then treated like dirt until the day we die. The infirmary becomes our stable, until the day we die.
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3 comments:
wow that good what are their 'gifts'?
a dunno i wrote it at about 2am so i was just kind of making it up as i went along
yeah i find it easier to write stuff like that when i'm tired for some reason
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