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Rated: ASR · Chapter · Teen · #1553162
School for geniuses. R&R please.
I know this sounds completely ridiculous, and if I wasn’t going through the thing myself, I would have really agreed with you, but fact remains as a fact that I am stuck in a school for geniuses where the main course is Analysing.
And the worst thing is, I’m not a genius. I’m just average smart for a twelve year old, but definitely not genius. I wasn’t, like, able to read when I was two years old. I didn’t take apart the computer and enhance it when I was seven. I didn’t have such good argumentive skills at the age of eight that I persuaded my parents to get me an apartment that I could call my own so I could ‘work’ in peace. I didn’t get kicked out of school because I was too smart to just skip a few grades.
In short I am not the least bit like Inertia Eros.
And if her first name reminds you of physics, you’re sure as hell right. She’s a genius at movement and engineering, anything related to physics. Not that she wasn’t genius at everything else. And her last name is just like her too.
Wavy long hair tied up in a neat yet elegant bun, soft brown eyes, close to impossibly long eye leashes, tall and graceful – in short, a total beauty.
But she has the total emotional level of a brick.
I mean, I don’t mean that she doesn’t smile. She does, just too much less than other people, and when she does, it’s so cold it transports you right up to the North Pole in the middle of a blizzard.
No one cares about that here of course. All that this school cares about is that she has photogenic memory and analysing skills rival to Sherlock Holmes himself. Because she’s the reason that the school exists. Or people like her at least.
That’s what the school is; a wormhole that sucks in only the best of the best academically and intellectually, and just like any other wormhole, it doesn’t have any filters to sieve out the ones that are morally or attitude wise the worst of the worst. Nor does it care that you are completely void of emotions, neither does it care if your parents just died. It doesn’t give a damn if you don’t want to go into the school. It just sucks you in and gets rid of anything in the way, because it has the power.
Naturally, gathering geniuses from every nook and cranny of the country must get them some power or another. After all, these geniuses work for the government, and some even in the Strategy Department of the military. Occasionally some get posted to the Weapons Development Department, the youngest in history only at the age of eleven.
But, well, everyone is human, and humans make mistakes, and the school certainly made an enormous one.
I’m no genius, and somehow, after blackmailing my parents and other petty schemes, they sucked me into the wormhole of their school for kids who could easily outwit the President. And sometimes, if you keep so many kids capable of all sorts of things that military commanders would never even dream of, outbreaks are quite understandable after all.
Dunsinane Academy for the Gifted Yonder presents hell on earth.
© Copyright 2009 Asphodel_Winter (asphodel7 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1553162-Genii-Prologue