Voices

• Rose Johnson, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2009

I always knew I was different. Ever since I started school the other kids just weren’t like me. There were three things that told me this. First, things moved. Not just a blow in the wind move, things like chairs and tables moved centimetres at a time, with no one touching them. Second, something weird happens with doors and walls. I was playing tag with my friends around the house one day when I was chasing my friend through a door way, she shut the door on me. Expecting to run head on into it I shut my eyes but nothing happened. I went straight through! Third, I hear things. I hear people’s voices when they aren’t moving their mouths. One day, it got too much. I fell to the floor in a mass of tears. Then, hands fell on my shoulder and lead me to a room without voices. When I finally opened my eyes, I found I was looking at Mrs ¬¬Selva, the school English teacher. “Marielle do you know what you are and why that just happened?” I just shook my head, I didn’t trust my voice. “You are a telepath. You can hear the minds of other people and probably many other things too. Has any other strange things happened to you?” I told her about my childhood. I thought she would laugh or call me crazy, but not once did she interrupt. “I am someone who can help. I am like you, only not as powerful, you, are the chosen one.” I stared at her in shock. I couldn’t believe this. It was too much, yet, somehow it made sense. She had said she could help me so I decided to give her a chance. Over the weeks that followed, she taught me how to control my powers; I learned to move things with my mind. I learned to walk through walls, and I learned to read the minds of others at will. No one but Mrs Selva knew. I told only her and no one else. It was hard, not having anyone like me. But I did enjoy knowing why I was so different. I spent my weekends at an abandoned construction site. Practising moving objects, the objects getting larger and larger with practise. I also practised walking through walls and reading the minds of the passersby. It was fun to begin with, but soon I grew tired of being lonesome. One day though; Mrs Selva called me over and told me to sit down. “One day the time will come when you have to save the world. You will be our only hope for survival.”