Novel & Cerita Think Like A Freak

She could actually see his face without having to break her neck. “It sounds interesting.” He said as he paused and looked at her. “Oh, okay.” She said, and he stopped completely. “What is it? “He asked as he looked down at her and could see the clouds of doubt in her eyes. “People just think I am a freak most of the time, so I don’t really get to talk to people. No one likes me either most of the time. They either want something from me, or they want to wait to see me fail at something.” Dawn said with a sigh. “I don’t know why I am treated so different and they want to study me as well.”

I’m fucked . “Sorry about that uhm.. I’ll go with Christian and take a look around .” I blurted , stomping out of there . My mind suddenly went blank . I don’t know how to think . Wait . Did I just say `` How to think? I really need to get out of here . I need fresh air and peace for my mind . I walked through silent halls like graveyards . It felt like a ghost would appear from somewhere around . Why is this floor so creepy? And why the heck am I so scared of that?

“You are just like your sister.Boy freak but I think she’s worse” “I’m not a boy freak” “You are”

“Stop thinking too much and just scream. It is not that hard.” “W-what?” “When you are tired of thinking, just scream your frustration out. Thinking too much would not solve anything.” “....” What a strange man. But then again, strange men had become a recurring theme in my life lately. Men who acted like they knew me better than I knew myself. It was confusing…..scary.

Mom kept gaslighting me too. "Linda has had a weak immune system since young. You should always be more considerate and tolerant of her. You're the older sister, so you must always treat her right and take good care of her. Understand?" In my past life, Mom had completely brainwashed me and convinced me that it was the absolute truth. Melinda was a sickly, pitiful child, and therefore, I, as her older sister, had to always give up everything for her.

I think I am broken. -----------

I’m lying on the cold ground with Anderson a few feet from me, his whole body shaking. “W … What happened?” I mumble, groaning as I move. “C … Crazy freak!” Anderson gasps. “That Level three girl—she was right! You’re a freak!” A freak? My memory is dim, and I feel like I’m slowly emerging from a deep haze. I manage to sit up, “W … What’d I do?” I fumble for my flashlight to look at him because he sounds like he’s in pain. When the light lands on him, I wince. “I didn’t do that.”

Caden snaps at me, layla chuckles at the look on his face “My point is just because you look different does not mean your not beautiful, your hair is so silver it actually glows under the moon like stars in the sky, your eyes could pull the attention away from everyone and everything, they are hypnotising, they are beautiful, your a genius and im not just saying that because your smart im saying it because if anyone in the world was capable of big things then its you” I clear my throat then i continue “My point is baylee if anyone says your a freak they are actually saying your so freaking special that you have the ability to kill with your voice, that your beautiful, kind and special in way

GIDEON SO is this my punishment for hurting James and all the others before him due to my ignorance? I ran away from the first family that took me in, and then three foster homes, because I was different. During the time, I was just a freak, the kind that scares regular people. Others—kids and grown-ups—know there is something unusual about me. They never talked about it, because they probably feel afraid others would think they are crazy. I was the freak and I have power over them because of it, and I could feel it even as a child, how scared they are of me. How I make every moment they spend with me hellish.

“Do you know what you are?” The question hangs in the air between us. Simple. Direct. And impossible for me to answer. Because I do not. Not really. I know what I can do. I know what happens to me. But that does not explain anything. It does not give it a name. Other than the one I have always used. A freak. The thought lingers, quiet but familiar. I do not say it out loud. I do not say anything at all. Because I do not have an answer.