Labelled by Blood

      I didn't think anyone else would hear my first poem. Ava was the only one who had any faith in it. The rest of my class didn't even snap. And my second one? I dug out my journal for it and read past the frayed page. I, for better or worse, could make out most of it and remembered the other bits. After I finished, I sighed, feeling stupid and like I was awful at writing. His speechlessness only made it worse.       "Parks?" I asked.       "I don't know what to say."       I deflated. Right.       "They're beautiful."       My lip quivered. "You're just saying that."       "No," he said. "I mean it. You have talent."       "I got a B on the first one," I corrected him.       "I never said it was perfect."       He got me there. "The second one is clunky."       "Yeah, but isn't it supposed to be?"       I had to pause and think for a bit.       "It's us, isn't it?"       "Huh?"       "You're the water, I'm the fire, Jesse's the force."       "I, uh, guess so."       "We weren't perfect together when we started our new training. We evolved, though."       "Right."       "If you rewrote the poem today, I think you'd write it differently."       I thought on his words. "Maybe."       His sketching on the other side stopped. Then his phone made a fuzzy sound as he picked it up. "Hey, Lex, I gotta go."       "Oh. Right. It's kind of late, huh?"       He nodded. "See you tomorrow."       "See you."       The phone hung up. I looked at the ghostly poem and shook my head. I put my journal away. It was getting late. I needed to go to bed. I got up and brushed my teeth and got into pajamas. I picked something cute and pink. Then I popped some earbuds in and went to sleep. I listened to metal.       I woke up when my playlist ended. It was 2:00 AM. I yawned and rolled over in my bed. The night was deathly silent. I popped my earbuds out and just listened. There was a slight ringing ever present, but that'd always been there for me. The quiet was calming. My bed felt extra comfortable. The soft and cool pillow gave way and hugged me. My blankets were just what I needed: not suffocating, but still warm. I heard a car whizz by. What were they doing at this damn hour? Then I got curious about what Collectors did. What was their purpose? Where'd they even come from? I had an urge to get out of bed and research them, but I didn't want to move. Forcing myself back to sleep was kind of difficult.       I woke up again, this time to my alarm. I stretched in bed, my shirt riding up and letting the cold air zap me awake. My blanket was on the ground and I was freezing. I laid in bed, the limbo between sleep and wake finding me. A knock on the door with a "morning, Alex," from Dad got me up.       "Morning," I called out. His footsteps came and went.       Getting out bed with a groan, I made my way to my closet. I picked out a functional outfit today. I wanted to blend in, but be ready for training. I rocked a flannel with a tank top underneath. Though I added some leggings and boots. Just enough to work, but keep me pretty much in the background if I kept low.       I got prepped for the day and started for the kitchen. I was met with the wafting syrupy scent of pancakes. When I got to the table, Dad was eating and motioned to a seat across from him. Mom was hard at work with cooking. I sat down and Mom put a plate out with a stack of buttery pancakes drowned in a thick layer of blueberry syrup.       "Morning," Mom said.       "Good morning," I answered. I tried not to let my excitement peek through, but Dad smiled.       I did, too.       "Big day for us," Dad commented.       "Oh. Yeah?" I said.       "We're presenting our pitch," Mom added. "But it has to be quick. We were up late working on it. It's basically an elevator speech."       My brain was lost in the family bonding that I almost missed what she said. Then my eyes went wide. Crap. I had completely forgotten about that dumb speech today. I had nothing. No qualities on myself, nothing to sell myself on, not even how I wanted to start.       I ate breakfast quickly, thanking my parents. It meant the world to me. They were acting like Mom and Dad again. Not my "parents."       They seemed almost disappointed I was leaving so soon, so I filled them in and left. The walk to school was extra cold, and my flannel almost didn't keep up with the weather. It was getting really chilly, now. I was about ten minutes ahead of my usual schedule, so I'd find a spot to sit and just make something up on the spot for my speech. When I got to school, it was pretty empty. Of the people there, no one batted an eye. I found Mr. Davis in his classroom working away on something. I knocked on his door.       "Come in," he said, not looking up.       I did. I sat. I got my speech outline out and looked at it blankly.       "Oh, Alex. Good morning."       "Good morning," I said back. My pencil hovered motionless over my notecard.       "Knocking out some homework?"       "Yeah."       "If you need help, just let me know."       "Actually," I started. "We're writing an elevator speech in, well, speech."       Mr. Davis made a noise with a face to match as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Err, I'm no good at speeches. You can do it."       So much for that. "Right," I answered.       I looked back down. The clock ticked. I couldn't tack words down, even if I was at gunpoint. I shook my head and let it fall in my hands. Kids were starting to make their way in, now. I sat here for twenty-five minutes not doing a thing. I sighed and put my notecard away. Someone tapped my shoulder.       "Hey!" It was Ava.       "Hi," I said, getting my English notebook out.       "Working on the speech for Burgess, huh?"       I nodded.       "If it helps, find something unique about yourself that no one else can copy."       Easier said than done.       "I know it's easier said than done," Ava giggled, "but you just need to be creative. Trust me, Evan and I have to do it all the time."       I giggled, too and looked up to find her gone. More kids poured in and class started with the bell. What she said stuck with me. Her and Evan had to be creative to stand out. To find something unique about themselves. Or maybe to stand out from how others see them. How I saw them. I hated labels, but they defined me.       The Twins probably did, too. Mr. Davis started class, but my mind was elsewhere. He went on and on about this and that. Poetry stanza structure, Edgar Allen Poe, even some contemporary pieces. But I didn't really care about any of it. I wanted to write the poems I thought were good, even if others didn't. Parker made me see that.       I wrote something new while he went over the notes for the day. I went for something a little less crazy and more traditional: rhyming couplets:             Two worlds collide into a black hole.             They saw the catalyst and, at once, knew their goal.             Two worlds end in scorched earth.             They knew their dreams were really, truly, the birth.       That's all I had. but it felt like a good story. One that people might find mysterious and interesting. Even if it was generic.       "Alex," Mr. Davis' voice called. "what is an epic poem?"       I blanked. I wasn't listening. My eyes made their way up and Mr. Davis had an expectant look. I opened my mouth, ready to spew something I knew was probably wrong. But Ava's voice shot out above mine.       "An epic is a long poem that tells us a heroes adventure."       Mr. Davis beamed at her. His eyes shifted at me with disinterest. "Correct, Ava. Good."       My heart pounded. A bead of sweat trickled down my temple and I sighed. The rest of class was full of boring lecture and a vocab assignment. Nothing worth sweating over. After class, I got my things and headed for the door. Ava was ahead of me. I decided I needed to suck it up and thank her properly. I tapped her shoulder.       "Hey," I said. "Thanks."       "Mmhmm," she hummed, tilting her head and grinning. "You should keep working on your poems."       My heart skipped a beat, but before I could answer, she went on. "Toby mentioned he saw you writing something. Don't give up, okay?"       I nodded, really internalizing her words. I guess Toby saw and knew more than I thought. I'd have to thank him later. Ava rushed on ahead and met with the rest of her trio. I waved pathetically. Toby caught my eye and waved back. Evan didn't look my way. I split off and headed for math.       The hallways felt extra packed, today, and I couldn't put my finger on why. It made getting to class take forever and I had to stop and go like there was a stop sign. The constant hollering and gossiping made me feel uncomfortable and annoyed, but I finally got through and made it to math. Not late, but pretty close. Mr. Steins saw me and waved before gesturing to my usual seat. I turned in my homework and plopped in my seat. The boys from last time moved away and I was surrounded by empty desks. Breathing space was nice, even if it did feel like a spotlight.       Class started with a warmup and then devolved into more formulas and whatnot. I raised my hand to answer questions so many times, Mr. Steins almost seemed annoyed. I knew he wasn't, though. Especially since I was the only one who apparently got what he was talking about. He handed me a small packet to work on while he retaught the material to the rest of the class. At the end, I turned it in and he nodded.       "No homework for you tonight," he joked. "You clearly got it down pat."       I nodded and chuckled. "Okay."       He leaned in a little and whispered. "Change your mind on the decathlon? We're still looking for someone."       "No. Things only got busier, I don't think I'm the right person."       "Ah," he sighed, "too bad. If you have any friends or know of someone who might be 'right' for it, let them know."       I gave him a thumbs up and walked away.       "Thanks anyways, Alex," he said after me.       The hallway was loud again. As I walked out of math and towards chem, I got the feeling someone was watching me. But everywhere I looked I only saw rushing faces, self-absorbed conversations on random topics, and teachers counting down the hours to go home. I kept my head low and got to Ms. Rohd's fast despite the traffic.       "Morning," Ms. Rohd greeted me.       "Morning, Ms. Rohd," I said, perking up.       After our last conversation, I saw her in a new light. She was so much cooler than I thought. Getting out my notebook, I rearranged my desk and got ready for class to start. Kids strayed in, most of them immediately hopping on their phones or listening to music. I opened my journal up and wrote down some of my favorite words: extraordinary, unassuming, imperceptible. I wrote down words that gave me the same feelings as each of those. None of them were particularly special or unique, but they made me feel more at ease with the day.       The bell rang and we jumped right into the project I knew was coming today. It was pretty straightforward: find a couple of lichen samples and write a report on the chemical processes that happen within their systems and how they help the organism survive. Ms. Rohd wasted no time in gushing on lichen and it almost got me excited about them, too. Her excitement really was endearing and kinda cute.       She handed out rubrics and told us we could partner with people or work on our own. I didn't know anyone here, really, so I guess I was working alone on this one.       After the project introduction, we went on to cover notes on some basic o-chem topics. It was all different from what we covered so far this year, but it was better than a lot of the other stuff we'd gone over. After a lot of lecturing and notetaking, we were left to our own devices. She advised us to get a head start on our projects and start looking at the what local variants of lichen we might find around Duscadon.       I did some light research and had a good idea of where I wanted to look. Our training spot was going to be a good place to start, and I was sure everything was going to work out without me needing to stress about it. After a little bit, I decided I had to tackle on my dumb speech. The blank notecard stared at me. Even without eyes, it felt like was boring into my soul. It found a way to make me feel paranoid; was someone watching me? I quickly glanced around the room. C'mon, Alex. No one cared about you. Not enough to stalk or watch you. Jesus shouldn't be a problem anymore.       My hand eventually moved. I wrote something down based off what Ava told me. Find something unique to me. "Stapler." That's all I had. That stupid stapler that was my bestfriend despite how much I loathed how silly it was.       I got distracted and doodled a little picture of it. Then the bell rang. Lunch time.