I used to believe that all people were inherently good. I believed that the roughness of life made good people bad. This was my belief until I watched myself and others repeatedly screw up. I stuck to this belief even when I, myself, did horrible deeds. Growing up I wasn’t treated as an equal to everyone else. I was different. In fact I was different from those that were supposed to be like me, those with powers, the Gifted. My whole family had Gifts. My sister, who was three years older than I, could summon force fields, my mom had super strength, and my father was super fast. Just like all of our kind our hair color showed what our Gifts were. For example all the strong people had bright neon orange hair. However, unlike everyone else my hair was scarlet in color. It was common knowledge that the darker ones hair color was the more powerful they were. So, we …show more content…
The room was concrete and the ceiling was about seven feet high. Where I had been laying there was a small rubber mat with a thin blanket. The room was deep and thin. From the door to the back wall it was about seven feet. From sidewall to sidewall it was about five feet. The door appeared to be thick metal with power locks. I turned back to the mat with its thin blanket. Expecting to be executed soon I sat, legs crossed, and began to accept my fate. I walked through my life in my mind. My earliest birthdays, pets, family and friends all flashed through my mind. I sent out silent prayers asking for forgiveness to those I had harmed. I hoped my family and friends knew I loved them. Sitting there I reflected on every choice I had ever made. My thoughts were of my family and everything I never said. As I sat thinking a loud bang came from the door. Opening my eyes I jumped up and retreated into a dark corner. The door slowly creaked open. The beam of yellow light slowly crept forward blinding me. In the frame of the door a large man stood. I couldn’t make much of him