I'm furious. Mad at Dr. Mann for keeping me here. Mad at the guards who stand at the doors watching in silence. Mad at Tate for blaming himself. Mad at myself for seeing his memories. Mad at the government for giving out the supplements and making the mistake in the first place. I miss my old life. I miss knowing the difference between day and night but most of all I miss my family and friends who probably never want to see me again.

By the time the guard come to collect me for my second trial I'm hysterical, refusing to come out of my cell and shouting out hurtful comments when he arrives at our usual time. I mope around the cell as he tries to coax me out rather than come in, clearly far too afraid to enter the cell containing the most dangerous Eccentric in the world. A moody seventeen-year-old suffering from hormone and attitude problems.

"Come on! Don't make me come in there," the guard threatens.

"Go to hell," I spit at him through the bars. He scoffs and reaches for his baton but instead brings out a set of keys from his pocket and starts to search through them. I shoot him a sarcastic smile to hide the sudden fear that comes over me. He's coming in.

"I warned you," he says once he finds the right key and starts to unlock the cell, but his trembling hands give him away. He may be scared of me but that doesn't mean he will abandon his orders. The moment he sets foot in my cell, I sprint away from the door wedge myself in-between the bed and the toilet knowing it will be hard for him to get me out.

After a lot of uncomfortable grabbing and shouting the guard gets a hold of my prison uniform and yanks me up by the collar.

"Let go of me!" I scream while scratching at the guard's rough hand on the back of my neck. "Please don't take me back there!" He continues to ignore me and pushes me forward until I slip on the wet flooring and fall face first into the ground. I call out in pain as an unbearable throbbing makes it's way to my now shattered nose when I pull my self up from the floor. I pull my bloodied hands away from my nose and whip around to face the apologetic guard with a snarl but instead of an apology, I am met another shove toward the door.

"Hey, get your hands off her!" Tate shouts but there is little he can do trapped behind bars. The guard picks me up as if I weigh nothing and throws me over his shoulder as I continue to kick and scratch, sending drips of fresh blood flying. By the time we leave the prison sector, I have gone limp in his arms in defeat.

+++

I'm back in that god damn chair, in that stupid room with the observation window. I sit, arms crossed, face sullen but this time I have no restraints. At least I get to keep a little bit of pride, even with my bloodied face and my swollen nose. All of a sudden, the door to the observation room opens and Dr Mann stalks out. Empty handed. I can't tell whether this is a good or bad sign.

"This time is going to be a little bit different," she states simply, "but don't get your hopes up, it will be just as hard as the others."

"You probably shouldn't get your hopes up either because I'm not participating today," I lean back on the chair and raise my eyebrows. The small movement sends ripples of pain to my nose and I fight to hold back a sob.

"I doubt you will be saying that when you see what we have planned," she turns and looks past the door into the observation room. What does she have planned?

"Bring her in." She shouts and walks toward the door to help the guards bring in the hobbled figure. I don't recognise them at first but then I hear her voice. I haven't heard it in years but I would be able to recognise it anywhere.

Aunt Trish is dragged into the room by two guards, who shove her forwards in their usual matter causing her to stumble toward me. She looks almost the same as she had when she left but weaker. Her young, sun-kissed complexion has been replaced with graying skin and baggy eyes that have an unhealthy glaze over them. She has lost weight. A lot of it. It looks like all these years underground haven't done her any good. She calls out to me the moment we make eye contact but before she can speak, Dr Mann spins around and stabs her in the stomach with a knife I hadn't noticed until now. The knife slides through her skin easily and blood spills to the clean, white floor. She falls to the ground in a heap, clutching her abdomen in agony and the guards turn around and leave with no hint of remorse.

"Aunt Trish!" I scream and drop down onto the floor beside her bleeding out figure. I place my hand over the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding but the action causes more blood to spill out onto the already wet tiles. The warm blood trickles down her sides, staining her white prison uniform a rich, crimson red.

"Help me," She croaks while cupping my cheek with her hand, spearing it with blood. Tears begin to swell beneath my eyes as a feeling of complete hopelessness comes over me.

Then I realise I can help her, all I need to do is activate my Healer powers. I look down at the wound and image it healing over but nothing happens. No power overcomes me. No goose bumps or racing heart. Just emptiness. Why isn't it working? I try again and again but I see no improvement in the wound. I close my eyes, focusing on the dark place of my mind where my powers stay hidden but instead am met with an overwhelming urge to burn the place to the ground yet somehow flood the room at the same time.

"I guess she isn't as powerful as we thought," Dr Mann whispers to the guard next to her as they reenter the room and they both laugh. I whip around and blow them away with a powerful gust of air in anger. Dr Mann lands on her bad leg and cries out in pain while the guard continues to slide on the tiles and smacks into the wall with a loud bang. Even though my Breeze powers are still new I have somehow managed to keep them under control until now.

I turn back to my aunt and realise that her face has lost majority of its colouring and her breathing as come to a sudden stop.

"No, no, no!" I shout and feel for her neck for a pulse that is not there.

"I'm sorry, I failed you," I cry and burry my face into her chest and let the tears finally fall.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

Then something amazing happens. A small steady heart beat begins to fill my ears and Aunt Trish takes a huge breath. I pull back off of her chest and glance down at the wound that is no longer there. The only remanence of the cut is her blood-soaked shirt and a small scar where the knife had entered. I gasp in total shock and pull away from Aunt Trish. I did it. I saved her. She sits upright, confused and weak but even she can't hide a huge smile from her face. Although we can celebrate the guard comes from behind and tackles me down, pinning me to the ground as far away from my aunt as possible. Then I feel the cool metal of the cuffs being wrapped around my wrists and am dragged away from a now hysterical Trish.

Before taking me back to my cell the guard allows me to stop at the shower rooms to wash away the crusty blood both from my nose and Trish. I reach up and touch the tender skin around my nose but immediately regret it as the throbbing pain returns. If only Healers had the power to treat themselves successfully otherwise there would no longer be a need for the mouse like women who tends to my wounds each night. As I stand, letting the lukewarm water wash over me, I think back to the tests. 10. 10 powers triggered. 10 painstaking tests. That makes 8 powers left. I don't think I can last that long. I shudder at the thought being placed in my metal box or water tank again. I need to get out of here. I know I can, it's just a matter of how.

+++

Once the guard lets me back into my cell, he hands me two small pills and a glass of water. I remember the first few days where they had to inject the concealing drug as I simply refused to take anything given to me by the guards but as the voices in my head and uncontrollable electrical urges eventually got the better of me and I gave in to their sick plans. Now having my powers under control, I regret taking them but know that the guard won't leave until I do so. I swallow them dry, ignoring the scraping feeling in my throat then do a small bow to the guard. He glares in return to my smirk but then leaves the hallway without even glancing back in my direction. I stare at the closed door for a moment longer then turn my attention to Tate's cell as the sudden emptiness begins to overcome me. I need a distraction.

He sits quietly on the floor facing me but he keeps his eyes firmly shut as if he is caught in a thought. I wonder if he is still sulking from yesterdays accident. He is the only good thing about this place and it hurts me to see him in such a state.

"I was beginning to think the same way about you," Tate calls from his cell and I know the old Tate has returned. I smile back at him, but then realise the mistake.

"I didn't say anything Tate," I mutter in confusion.

"Sure you did, you said I was the only good-"

"Ok, ok, I get it." I interrupt him before he can continue as my checks to blush a bright red. "But the thing is, I didn't say that. I thought it." We both sit in silence, both trying to figure out what had just happened but like always Tate is the one to finally break the peace.

"What does this all mean?" He asks and cocks his head to the side in confusion. "Wait a second. What if I can read minds too? That's so cool," He places two fingers on his temple and stares at me intensively for at least a minute. I laugh awkwardly and push back the hair from my face as he continues to stare into my soul.

"Yeah, I got nothing," he declares sadly. What if it was me? Could I be communicating with him telepathically. Is this another Sage power or something else entirely? There is only one way to figure this out.

Tate? I shout in my head and imagine sending the message toward him.

"Yeah?" He says and then jumps back in surprise as he realises what has happened. "I knew it, I'm a Sage as well!" He places his hands back on his temple and starts to mouth words at me under his breath. I laugh at his excitement and regret having to break the news to him.

"Tate it was me, I think I can speak to you telepathically." He seems disheartened at first and I feel a pang of regret but then I realise the usefulness of my power. We can commutate without out the cameras catching everything we say.

We can plan an escape.