I am the one that lurks in the dark. I walk among them, human like them, but I am not one of them.

By the medical community, we are called Deviants. By others we are called freaks, extras, others, mutants. Different. It's not genetic, it's not hereditary, each one a unique mutation as random as an allergy.

The anomalies started cropping up a hundred years ago, about seventy years ago they devised a way to test for it. They can test for it in-utero, but they can't tell what it will be or how the mutation will manifest. They haven't figured that out yet. The anomalies show up as mutations, changes in brainwave patterns, or differences of physiology. Some parents choose to abort—and not live with the possibility that their child might be a pyrokinetic, or have wings, or blue skin— and some choose to gamble.

My mom chose to gamble.

Physical changes show at birth, of course. I heard of a boy who has no eyes, but his hearing is so keen that he can hear the air move around him. Inversely, I know a guy whose eyes were enlarged, he can see perfectly in the dark but sunlight is nearly impossible for him to see in, even with sunglasses. Most other things don't start cropping up until puberty. It's a shock to the system.

I have a little of both.

The day I was born, the nurse nearly dropped me.