There was something different about us. The survivors. The hunted. The damaged. The broken. We are the ones who survived the house fires, the plane crashes and the mysterious diseases that left death in its heed.
But we do not survive without our scars. Left with both physical and mental wounds that lead us to question; why us? Why did we survive when others perished? That can be a worse curse then dying. To be left with the grief of losing the people you love and living with the guilt of walking away.
Then, there are the lucky selected few whose survival story goes beyond the norm. The science experiments. The guinea pigs and lab rats. The ones whose damage went that far it changed us so we can survive, so we can live. It set us apart from the rest. We are poked. Prodded. Put on display. Because we, can not be shaped into your cookie cutter mold and are no longer restricted to your inferior way of living.
We are the ones with power. True power. When society turned their backs on us we changed so we can fight. So
we can win.
We are the unloved, the orphans, the lost and the broken. The ones left behind.
We gained the power to help ourselves when others turned away. We gained the ability to manipulate the water to escape the fires. To fly when the plane fell. To heal when our bodies where breaking down.
We are the ones to survive.
We are the villains and heroes in your stories.
We are the most dangerous because we learnt how to swim when we were destined to drown.
We are the lucky few who became something more, something loved yet feared. Something to be celebrated but cut opened and explored. Because we became the ones we needed to be to survive. The angels and the demons.
We are here because something inside of us is different, something has been altered to make up this way, something lovely and deadly.
Something that can save or end the world…