The loud buzzing of my alarm clock jolted me awake. *Bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt*. I frantically swung my arm around, searching for the source of the noise. My hand finally landed on the buzzing device, and I quickly silenced it. As I sat up in bed, I couldn't help but notice how comfortable the mattress felt against my back. I took a moment to rub the sleep from my eyes and recall why I even set the alarm in the first place.
Sighing, I slouched back down onto my mattress as I remembered the reason for the alarm it was the beginning of my freshman year of high school. Outside my window, I could hear the soft chirping of birds greeting the morning. The warm rays of the sun seeped through the cracks in the blinds, gently caressing my skin.
Longing to go back to sleep, I reluctantly swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretching away the tension before rising.
Without much thought I shuffled over to the laundry room. The room was cramped with clothes piled atop the machines. I grabbed some clothes from the dryer, without much thought. I chose a pair of grey sweatpants and a black, oversized long sleeve shirt that hung loosely over my frame. After dressing, I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The sound of water splashing against the sink echoed throughout the small room.
Glancing in the mirror, I saw my reflection staring back at me: paleish white skin, brown eyes, and messy black hair that refused to cooperate. I sighed, running a hand through my messy hair, deciding it was fine as it was. I left the bathroom and headed to the living room.
The living room was sparsely furnished, with only a small flat screen TV and a single chair. The room was dimly lit, with the only source of light coming from the window. I picked up the remote from the floor near the TV and turned it on. The TV flickered to life and I was greeted by a news anchor with a gruff voice and cracked, blocky stone skin that almost made him seem like a roman statue.
"Good morning, I'm David Lee, and here's your weather report for the lovely town of Woodland Heights," the anchor said. "As we start this Monday morning, temperatures will be in the low 50s with mostly clear skies. Throughout the day, we'll see a slight increase in cloud cover, but overall it should be a beautiful day."
I groaned and quickly turned off the TV. I wasn't in the mood for mundane news or weather reports. I grabbed my backpack and headed towards the door.
"Goodbye!" I called out.
Of course, the only response was the creaking of the front door as I shut it behind myself and began walking down the street.
When I arrived at the bus stop, I took a seat on the curb and checked my phone for the time. I still had a few minutes until the bus arrived so decided to wait in silence.
As I sat on the curb waiting for my school bus, I couldn't help but feel a sense of envy towards the majority of the population. According to statistics, 98% of the world's population of 6 billion people had some sort of power, even if it wasn't unique or particularly useful. Unfortunately, I happened to be in the extremely small minority that had no powers at all. Instead of flying to school or teleporting there, I had to rely on an old bus to get me where I needed to go.
The sound of the approaching bus interrupted my thoughts. I quickly gathered my backpack and made my way towards it. The old yellow bus was already waiting for me at the curb, and I climbed aboard. Despite being the last stop on the route, there were only five people already sitting inside. They were spaced out almost evenly, as if avoiding each other's company. I found an empty seat and took my place amongst them, feeling a sense of relief to be finally on my way to school.
I settled into my seat and couldn't help but notice the girl sitting across from me. Her hair was a striking shade of scarlet red, running all the way down to the seat of the bus, and her skin was pale and freckled. She seemed to be a few years older than me, and her presence was captivating. I couldn't take my eyes off her, but as soon as she turned and looked back at me with her piercing blue eyes, it felt as though she was staring into my soul. I quickly averted my gaze, but even looking away, I could still feel the weight of her stare.
Feeling relieved, I noticed the weight on my chest had lifted, and the pressure from her gaze receded. As I looked up, she was once again staring out the window, lost in thought. Not wanting to draw any more attention, I quickly glanced down at my phone to avoid any further awkwardness. Some time passed, and soon enough, the bus pulled up to the school and lined up with the other buses as students began to unload.
A line was forming at the student unload zone where an elderly man, disheveled and balding, stood in a suit beside a school desk that had been moved outside. On the desk, there was a box filled with files containing papers. As our bus approached the unload zone, the doors swung open and the occupants began to grab their belongings and exit the bus, heading towards the now nearly empty line in front of the old man.
By the time I reached the line, it was nearly empty. I was the last one in line, and the red haired girl was in front of me with three others in front of her. The old man began to ask the first person in line their name, and they responded with "My name is Ryan Montgomery." The old man replied with an "Alright," before searching through the files on the table, presumably looking for the name of the student. Once he found the file, he handed the student all the papers inside and told them to go on their way, then called the next student forward in line.
The line moved quickly, and it was only a matter of minutes before the girl with scarlet red hair was up next. The old man looked up at her and asked for her name. The girl calmly replied, "Mara Knight." The old man looked through the files, his fingers shuffling through the papers until he found the right one. He handed her the papers and gave a nod of his head, indicating that she was free to go.
Mara took the papers and stepped aside to organize them in her backpack. As she did so, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. There was something captivating about her, and I felt drawn to her in a way that I couldn't quite explain. When she finished, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowds of students.
I stepped forward, feeling a bit nervous as I watched the old man shuffle through the files once again. When he asked for my name, I hesitated for a moment before replying, "Arthur Bennett."
The old man's fingers continued to sift through the files until he finally pulled out mine. But instead of handing me the papers right away, as if sensing that something was wrong with me, he took a moment to glance through the contents.
I couldn't help but feel self conscious as he looked through my file. I knew that being powerless was a rare sight, but I didn't like being reminded of it.
"Ah, a powerless," the old man finally said, breaking the silence. "That's quite a rare sight."
"Unfortunately," I replied with a halfhearted laugh, trying to hide my discomfort. Without further comment, he handed me my papers, I stepped to the side and I began to look through the contents. It contained a syllabus outlining general school rules, a school ID with my picture, my age (15), and the name of my power though in my case, it just read N/A along with a class schedule for the semester.
I scanned my class schedule and saw that I had a typical set of core classes English, History, Math, and Science which didn't surprise me. The irony was that my last class of the day was Power Development, designed to help students control their powers safely. I let out a sigh, wishing I could gotten any other class. Instead I was stuck with a class that was specifically designed for those who possessed powers, something I sadly did not have.
I walked away from the elderly man with my papers in hand, a sense of unease gnawing at me. Being labeled as a "powerless" had always been a weight that I've carried, but it felt heavier than ever in that moment. I stuffed the papers into my backpack and turned to follow the flow of students into the bustling school building.
As I entered the main hallway, I was greeted by a cacophony of voices, laughter, and the occasional display of powers. Students chatted animatedly, some levitating their books effortlessly, while others were surrounded by swirling orbs of light.
Hungry, since I hadn't eaten before leaving home, I headed to the cafeteria for breakfast. The smell of syrup hit my nose as I entered the large space, scattered with tables of students. I shuffled towards the line for food, occasionally bumping into others along the way.