The Program - Prologue (Written by Marysa Writes)

Alex's Pov As much as I hate to admit it, I am a puzzle; an enigma. I can be understood, but not without thought or attentiveness. I believe that's why I am in this program. Or maybe it's to map out the inner workings of my brain so the pretentious idiots who claim to be of higher intelligence can understand what it's like to actually be a person of exorbitant intellect. Breaking my pencil in half and flicking it across the room, I stare at the first draft of my admissions essay. "This is stupid," I mumble when my birth giver walks in the door, carrying an armful of groceries. She sets them on the table space in front of me, "It's not stupid. Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince them to give you this scholarship? You should be thankful." "Thankful for what? You're sending me to a prison!" "It's boarding school, not prison. Now, let me see what you've written so far." I hesitantly slide the paper over to her and she snatches it, in my opinion, rather forcefully. Her eyes scan the paper, a frown growing more apparent with every word she takes in. "What the hell is this?" "My essay." "It's rude." "So is sending me to America. It's realistic. They want me to state why I think I've been admitted into the program and this is my response. They said to be true to myself, so that's exactly what I'm doing." Without giving her a chance to respond, I stomp my way up to my room and slam my door behind me. I don't care if I'm being an insensitive, attitude-driven teen, she had no right admitting me to this program my senior year of high school. And she expects me to be thankful. Thankful for what? Her dragging me away from all my friends to America (of all places!), from prom, from graduation to be a test subject for a school that thinks IQ tests accurately measure one's ability to comprehend information. .............................................................................................................................. Oli's POV Staring at the pimple about to erupt on Mr. Wake, the guidance counselors' sweaty nose was not how I envisioned the beginning of my senior year. Even though the volcano staring me down is quite grotesque, it beats AP statistics. "After much consideration, we've decided that maybe this school isn't the best option for you." Mr. Wake's nasally voice brought me back to reality. "Wait, what? But I haven't done anything wrong. You said I'd be able to come back and the accident would be erased from my record completely." He interlocked his stubby sausage fingers over his protruding gut and leaned back in his office chair, "Some other students are.... concerned. I feel it'd be best to enroll you in this program in Denver that has just opened up. Only the most elite students can get into it, and I feel it would benefit you better anyway." All I can do is stare. "What... What did my father say to this?" "He's on his way right now. I briefed him this morning, and he seems to think it's a great opportunity for you." Just as I'm about to respond, my father knocks on the small office's door. Mr. Wake stands to greet him, "Ahh, hello Mr. Davis, we were just discussing The Program. Please, have a seat." Silently, my father sits in the faux leather chair next to mine. Mr. Wake claps his hands together. "Now, I understand that this program is a little far from here, but- " "1,800 miles, actually," I interject, awarding a warning glare from my father. "Yes, well, I understand that 1800 miles," He looks to me, "is a relatively far distance for a year, but it's an all-expense paid move, transportation, utilities, everything will be taken care of. The Program was established for gifted students, so as you can imagine, I had to convince them that the past year for Olivia doesn't truly reflect her intellectual capabilities. All I need from you Mr. Davis, is for you to fill out a couple forms and we can get her enrolled by the fifth." A week. That's all I have left here. I feel numb, unsure whether a new start from my past mistakes is a relief or giving in to my weaknesses.