Two Voices

“Being adopted should have been the best feeling of my life. But it felt nothing like it.”

Separated from their mothers only seconds after they first met. Mabel and Bridget became best friends over their passion to find their lost parents. They bonded over the discovery of their inhuman abilities and formed a somewhat inseparable relationship. When they discover the origin of their tragic past, they are willing to do anything to get their lives back.


2. Faded



 Two voices. What kind of voice? A voice of a rich pop star living in a mansion with a million servants at her beck and call  or a lonely voice that belongs to a homeless person who sleeps outside a café and begs for money as people walk in? It doesn’t seem right! How the good people have to suffer to get the tiniest of things while the ignorant people are offered it without hesitation. My life had only started and I already knew that things never go the way you need it to. How things can go one way and then swerve to another. My life though… is something beyond this world.


My eyes were misted as they gently opened. My mother was holding me. Salty tears streaming down her gentle face. She was small with frizzy hair and freckles scattered across her face just like mine. I only saw her for a few seconds then because people took me away. Mean people. People who separated us for 12 years.

They took me to an empty room. It stank of antibacterial spray and was tinted a deadly white. They placed me on a tough bed and started swabbing me with a cotton bud. I heard a doctor saying that they were trying to get me dry but I couldn’t dry off. It made no sense. How could I always be wet?

I know that before I was born. I absorbed this strange energy that came from space and it made me feel stronger but I don’t see how it could have made me always wet. I was still human wasn’t I? I was still healthy and pretty much normal!

They moved me to a baby room. It smelt of strawberries and had a summer sky gently painted on the canvas-like walls. There was another baby sitting next to the beds on the carpeted floor. She was playing with a xylophone. Banging each key with a wooden stick and making noises like she was trying to copy the noise of the music.

They put me down in a cot and left. The other baby happily waddled over to me and stared. Her brown eyes burning into mine.

“I’m Bridget,” She said, “What’s your name?”

“Mabel.” I replied, remembering my mum gently whispering the name as I was taken away.

She placidly reached out to touch my hand. I reached out to touch hers. The seconds our hands touched, there was a loud bang and a lumpy rock dropped next to us. We both gasped in shock. Her hand was hot and flames appeared when we touched. Did she not feel it? Was she immune to fire?

“How did you do that?” she exclaimed, “We both made a rock simply by touching each other’s hands!”

She picked up the rock and peered at it.

“This rock is like a chunk of earth!” she said, “It’s like we both have something inside us that makes things nobody else can.”

I stared in disbelief. This girl was almost ten months old and she somehow knew about elements and rock types. But even then, I was a newborn and I somehow recognised my own name and could talk fluent English so I guess we’re both supernaturals!

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