Five years ago, the United States was the first government in the world to publicly recognize the existence of people with extraordinary abilities. They labeled these people “variants.”

Nobody understands.

The carpeted floor creaked under Sam’s weight as he walked down the hallway, to his mother’s bedroom.

They say I can’t know that for sure, but what they don’t realize is, I can.

The hall seemed longer as he pondered each weighted step.

I can know anything, anything anyone thinks or feels, just by making eye contact.

He grasped the icy knob. Sam’s stomach lurched as he turned the doorknob slowly.

People are horrible.

Sirens wailed outside the apartment complex.

They’ll do anything to protect themselves; lie, steal, kill. Even if there’s no real threat, what matters is the fear.

Sam gulped his own fear as he crossed the forbidden threshold. The whole of his fifteen years, he’d only been in the room twice: once for a whoopin’, and once when Mom told him about Dad’s accident.

People are afraid of a lot of things; their bosses, gang members, the police.

The plush, olive carpet met his feet. He approached his mother’s vanity with reverence and slid the top drawer open.

The only thing worse than living in fear is being the thing everyone else fears. Nobody understands. The moment the fact I’m a variant passes my lips, their expressions change. Every time. Even the ones who don’t walk away immediately are afraid… once I tell them their secrets aren’t safe around me.

The glint of a nine millimeter in a wood case shone from the top drawer. Sam lifted the gun. It was heavier than he’d imagined it would be. He knew Mom kept it loaded. She had ever since Dad passed.

People fear pain.

He stared at his reflection for a long moment. His deep, brown eyes glassed over with restrained tears. Sweat beaded his dark-skinned brow. His short-cropped curls glistened in the pink sunset coming through his mom’s bedroom window.

Nobody knows how much it hurts to be feared.

He raised the gun to his temple.

One shot, and it’s all over.

The lock clicked at the front door.

People fear death… but I don’t. I welcome anything that stops all the fear, the hate, the bitterness.

“Sam?” Mom’s voice bounced down the hall, from the other room.

She’ll be destroyed. I know that already, but no more than she’s already been, ever since I told her about my curse. Mom had a lot of secrets.

“Sam!” The floor creaked as she raced down the hall.

Like how Dad wasn’t my father. She’s a liar, just like everyone else.

Sam turned to face her horrified expression.

The tears wouldn’t hold back anymore. She’s just as afraid of me as everyone else.

“Baby! Don’t.” Her voice quivered.

She doesn’t understand. Sam choked on his words. “Mom… You don’t have to be afraid of me anymore.”

“Baby, I’m not afraid of you.”

Lie.

“We can work this out.”

Lie.

“They can find a cure for being a variant.”

Lie.

“I just wish we could go back to the way things were.”

Truth.

Bang!