MAJOR/Minor : The Mac Ferlan's Incident

Chapter 1 : Nightmare of a distant past

Alejandro Ferrand woke from his recurring nightmare, his body covered by cold sweat. He took one long minute to calm himself, and got out of the bed. He could still feel the atrocious pain course through his body, the fear, the odor of his own piss on his legs... The teenager shook his head to get rid of those feelings. The eighteen year old minor was feeling energetic, as often when he awoke from this recurring bad dream, his adrenaline in overdrive, in a flight of fight reflex he knew had been pointless back then.  Getting out of his wet t-shirt, he walked to his modified bench press, with its strange bar, higher on the right than on the left. His left arm was itching like crazy, but he ignored it. He knew why his nightmare had come back after almost a month of peaceful nights. He had dared to believe that, perhaps, this part of his past was behind him. That he had grown, somehow, and finally managed to find peace. His itchy left arm was proof enough it wasn’t the case yet.

“Heh. As if I could outgrow anything, right ?” he said to no one in particular, a half-grin on his face.

His often cynical personality was getting the best of him once again, but, as usual, he didn't care. Partly because he was alone, but mainly because he did not care one bit that MAJOR found that kind of spirit strange for a minor. If his life had taught him anything, that was that he was the Jackpot in some insane game and he had learnt to make the best of it. he could be whoever he wanted, MAJORS would still try to get him, punching and kicking each others while doing so. The trick was to be tantalizing but out of reach. Always, out of reach. He had paid a high price for not knowing it when he was eight.

Sitting on his bench press, he passed his right hand on his face to get some moisture out of it and looked at his bedroom’s mirror. Alejandro knew that, for a minor, he was relatively good looking. He wasn’t incredibly tall, not a halfsies by any stretch of the imagination, but he had a respectable 183 cm (6 feet) round. He had wide shoulders, short black hair, generally unkempt, a short black and ginger beard, well shaved this one, and green eyes, vert-de-gris as his father usually said. Jules Ferrand liked to make use of his French native tongues often. Thanks to him, and his mother, Ofelia, he had basically learnt three languages before he even walked.

The itchy feeling in his left arm intensified, and he groaned. It hadn’t been bothered by his arm this much in years. Yet, he did not dare look at it, or even touch it. It was only when the need to scratch became overbearing, that he finally relented and looked at it. Or, more accurately, looked at the left arm he hadn’t. Indeed, where his arm should have been, there was nothing, only a ridiculous stump, sprouting from his left shoulder, barely 20cm (8 inches) in length. Yet, he could feel the itch on the back of his left hand; he could almost feel the feint pulse in his left wrist when his blood was pumping up, like after he dared his little brother, Alaric, to chase after him when he was younger. Or after he woke from a terrible nightmare from a distant past.

With a sigh, he went to retrieve his mp3. No weight-lifting for him tonight. His parents were sleeping, and he did not want to wake them. He liked them, even loved but they were… well they were MAJORS. In fact, among the vast population of MAJORS, the only one he trusted was Alaric, his gemelo dicigótico, as his mother said lovingly. He and his twin weren't, technically, truly twins, after all.They hadn't shared the same ovum nor the same spermatozoid, after all. Him being a minor and his -slightly- younger brother made it relatively obvious.

Geneticists found the strangest things cute, and Alejandro was used to it. Plus, getting called strange words in a loving -but a little overbearring- way was something he could endure with relative ease, as long as he had the right to have some privacy and autonomy. In any case, Alaric and him looked almost like true twins, save for the fact that his younger brother had a darker skin, looking slightly more latino than himself. And he had a scar marring his face, from the right side of his forehead to the left.

Earlier this day, Alejandro had gone with his brother to Old Creek Cemetery. In ten years, neither of them had ever set foot here. Too many bad memories; almost too much to count. But this day, Alejandro wanted to go.  He had felt the need to finally get himself free from this part of his past, to finally become something else than a weeping and screaming victim, an impotent plaything in the hands of cruel giants. So, he and his twin had gone to see Joseph Mac Ferlan. Seeing the grave had given Alejandro a sense of closure, something he had been longing ever since he was eight years old. But tonight, Mec Ferlan had come back with a vengeance.

“Here goes nothing, I suppose", said the minor, finally putting his headphones on his ear, to listen to appeasing muscis and sounds. He needed it, but hopefully, it would be the last time. His past would be behind him from today onward, and he would get to be an independent minor, with his dreams, his successes and his failures. And he wouldn't be anyone's minor. he wouldn't belong to anyone, ever again.

He looked at his alarm clock. 5 a.m. In roughly one hour and a half, his parents would get out of bed and prepare for their day of work. They would come to see him and they would instantly know he had made the nightmare again, and they would try to cuddle him, to bring back their long lost cherry and happy baby boy from so long ago.To please them, he would smile more than usual, look happier, but they wouldn't be fooled.

Alejandro never managed to understand how his parents always knew when he had made The nightmare and that he faked happiness. They would tell him that they loved him as he was now, that he didn't need to pretend to be happier than he was, that he could cry, scream, rage... And he would almost believe them, like always. But he wouldn't give in. he wouldn't let Mac Ferlen control him.

Perhaps it was some magical power, granted with parenthood that made them able to say when he had needed his headphones and his soothing music. Alejandro was certain that it couldbe because they had made a bond with him. He hadn’t been bonded to anyone since he was eight. In fact, he had spent the last ten years actively rejecting all mental probes from his father; his sister, his twin or his little sister, Lindsey. Doctors had said that it was an uncommon possibility after the Incident, but not unheard off. Apparently, had been common just after the never talked about Dark Age.

Alejandro could still hear the  family's doctor, Anton Smith telling to his weeping mother that her minor baby needed calm, serenity, and time to heal more than anything after the Incident. He had advised his parents to let their oldest son pursue whatever fancies he had for a time, if they were not self-destructive. They had hesitated to call his growing demand for autonomy harmful and degerous for his mental health, but they had relented. The look of their broken boy had at least earned this much privileges to Alejandro. He had learnt to write, read and make basic calculus even before the Incident, but he had learnt practical skills after it, and had combined them with his fertile imagination. That's how he had designed his bench-press, how he had learnt to create furnitures for minors, or, more prosaically, how to deal with taxes, how to cook, how to take care of oneself...

Smith had also said that, sometimes, when a minor was “bond-rapped” as Alejandro had been, he subconsciously repelled all bonds. It was a natural and healthy healing process; he had assured his terrified parents. Such a minor needed time to himself, to get his full sense of self back, to put his mind together and find a way forward. And after the traumatic Mac Ferlan’s Incident, the good doctor was certain that Alejandro would need years, perhaps decades to fully heal and seek a bond.

“Many peoples will call him damaged”, Smith had said. “Rest assured he is certainly not. I have seen some fire inside your boy. What he did to this… this degenerate, this shame to all MAJORKIND, is proof enough that Alejandro his made of steel and won't break. He will heal, he will be peculiar – how could he not be after what he went through? – but he’ll still be your boy. And one day, some guy or gal will attract his interest, some people with an open mind and a big heart, and he’ll find lasting joy. But first, he needs to heal”.

A decade had come and gone and he wasn’t sure that Smith had been right. He was attracted to some girls, those well-endowed, powerful MAJORS, on a physical level, like most minor boys probably were. Heck, even more impressive specimens, like this Jessica from Winton Hight or whatever, who was taking part in some sort of female-wrestling competitions, could arouse him. But it was all physical. He felt no kinship, no desire to go and talk to them. He wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t sure he would ever be, if he did not leave his home. That’s why he had went to Old Creek. To get out. To prepare himself for the real world.

Ten years ago, he had been an outgoing minor, the kind of little thing who didn’t even know what fear meant. He had a loving family, a strong twin brother he liked to tease for being younger than him and a cute little sister, barely three years old and already stronger than he. Truly, he was an average minor, in a wealthy family. He even had all the parents in the neighborhood to give him candies and small gifts in the hope that the “pretty little mice” would get in touch with their progeny.  Among this crow of kids and young teenagers was Joseph Mac Ferlan.

At fourteen, Joseph was tall for his age, almost 3m17 (10,4 feet). A blond, with impressive muscles and an arrogant personality, he had declared that Alejandro would be his. Everyone knew this, especially the young minor. He never had cared much about it. Most MAJORS proclaimed the same thing on a daily basis and then proceeded to punch each other cold for such incredibly silly reasons than who had the bigger TV, who’se dad was stronger, that kind of stupid shit that the minor never really understood.

Still, among his kind, Joseph had been the best. Or, well, the worst. All other boys and girls had finally admitted that, yes, Alejandro was his. All but the minor himself. He never quite liked Joseph and usually stayed out of his way. Expect this fateful Halloween, ten years ago. He had been disguised as a mogwai, getting tons of candies, while his brother was disguised as a huge zombie. At one point, he did not remember why, Alejandro had ceased to follow Alaric around and chose to eat some of his candies.

He hadn’t even had the time to eat one that some big hand had engulfed his head and he had felt himself leave the ground. With horror, he had felt his captor run somewhere, while his muffled screams were unable to reach beyond the greasy and sweaty palm covering his face.

Chapter 2 : The Incident

As always, a mixture of rage and shame took over Alejandro. Remembering how he had been abducted, how easy it had been for Joseph to simply come and snatch him, as if he was himself a snack, or some lost toy on the ground was both infuriating and frightening. This rage was what doctor Smith had seen, burning in his eyes, the savage hatred against all MAJORS which was still smoldering inside him. It had been this fury, kept in check as best it could, that prevented him to truly succumb to MAJOR’s attraction when watching sports programs on the TV, or singers, or whatever jobs MAJORS had.

A smile suddenly crept on his face, lifting his spirits for a time. One of his all-time favorite song, Capitaine Abandonné by Gold, was playing in his head. He couldn’t refrain himself from singing the short part he liked most, in a slow tone, as if he was savoring some secret treasure.

“Ohé, Ohé, capitaine abandonné

Ohé, ohé, met des ailes à ton voilier !

Sonnez, sonnez, les sirènes au vent salé

Sonnez, sonnez la dernière traversée”

It was strange, really. This refrain was bittersweet, and he loved it. Perhaps because all Minors’ lives were bittersweet themselves. They were precious jewels and inferior creatures, beloved pets and derided monkeys all the same. Still, this feeling allowed him to face the Incident proper, to remember once more the night which changed him forever.

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Mere minutes after his abduction, he had been dropped on a wooden surface. Tears blinded him more than the poor light, but he still managed to see the interior of a wooden cabin. As for his kidnapper, his back was turned toward him. Still, he easily recognized him. Joseph Mac Ferlan was watching the street from behind a small window, probably to see if anyone was following him or had seen what he had done.

As for Alejandro, he hoped Joseph wouldn’t see the trail of fallen candies. It had been all he had managed to think off when the greasy and sweaty paw had engulfed his head. To tilt his pumpkin jar and let the overflowing candies fall to the ground. With any luck, someone would pick the trail soon enough. Alaric at least would call their parents very quickly. Search would be had and he was certain that he would be found really soon. Still, the prospect of even one night with Joseph was terrifying to him.

“No one’s coming, good” said the MAJOR in a joyous tone which sent shivers down Alejandro’s back. “So, my little Mejicano…”

“My name’s Alejandro!” screamed the Minor. He immediately regretted interrupting Mac Ferlan when the MAJOR backhanded him. It hadn’t been a strong hit, but it was enough to knock the wind out of the poor Minor kid and make his head ring. Alejandro was pushed against some cold metal, and his tears became even more numerous, if it was possible. The titanic MAJOR approached him and took his head between his thumb and his forefinger to force Alejandro to watch him in the eyes.

“I’ll call you whatever I want, pet. You’re mine. All mine. Just like good old Anna. Look!”

Alejandro didn’t dare resist and turned his head toward the cold metal behind him. There lied the most massive pistol he had ever seen. It was almost as long as he was tall! Alejandro began to sob uncontrollably.

“Don’t cry, pet, she won't hurt you” said Joseph in an amused tone which added to the horror of the scene. “Anna’s always ready to help me protect what’s mine. And you are ! You belong to me now, as it was always meant to be!”

At was at this moment that Alejandro wet himself. When he had looked Joseph Mac Ferlan in the eyes and seen only madness. Even at eight, he had known with absolute certainty. The MAJOR had lost all grips on reality. He didn’t know why. Truth been told, even ten years later, he didn’t knew nor did he care. But even this realization palled compared to what immediately followed.

“Tell it” demanded Joseph. “Tell you’re mine!”

“No… No !” screamed the kid an answer.

“Very well, remember that you who asked for it!” roared Joseph.

The Major changed his grips and engulfed Alejandro’s left arm in his palm. He brought the crying and screaming boy to his eyes. The Minor had assumed that he would be bellowed at, but instead the MAJOR remained silent. Silent but invading in the worst way possible. At that tender age, Alejandro’s mind had been wide open, free for any giant to enter it. And that’s what Mac Ferlan did.  The minor had been able to feel it, and it was horrifying.

It was as if a roiling see of rot was engulfing him. He could feel Joseph’s insanity under his skin, the marrow of his bones, in his brain… It wasn’t the communion between two kindred spirits that his parents had said the bond was. There was no intention to even consider the Minor like a living being. Joseph’s mind saw him as a thing, here for his pleasure and his only. The sensation was simply atrocious, and Alejandro’s begun to puke and convulse, as his body and mind tried to reject this invading corruption.

Three words and he would have been finished. Joseph had been too deep into his subconscious. The kid wouldn’t have been able to resist the bond, it would have left him forever disfigured, scarred at a mental level. It never happened. Just as Joseph opened his mouth to speak, the door of the cabin burst open. There stood Alaric, with a large iron shovel in his hands. Without a word, he charged at Joseph.

Alejandro never knew why Mec Ferlan did it. Was it a reflex? Some will to mark him no matter what? Any other reason his insane mind might have found? In any case, he crushed the kid’s left arm in his hand before letting him fall over “Anna”. The sound had been atrocious, kind of like a twig breaking and a tomato being crushed in the same time. Alejandro wailed like never before nor since. His bones weren’t simply broken, they were reduced to powder; his muscles weren’t strained, they were turned into a pulp, bursting out of his teared skin. The suffering was unimaginable, yet with it came a modicum of respite, something which allowed Alejandro to think. Mac Ferlan had left his mind.

In his state, the Minor saw Alaric charging the older MAJOR and hit him in the head. Alas, the only effect it had was to enrage Joseph even more. He made use of his superior size and strength to get the shovel out of Alaric’s hands and proceeded to try and beat him to death with it. All the while, he screamed incoherent drivel, letting his madness consume him fully.

Alejandro had to do something. That’s what prevented him from losing consciousness. He crawled over “Anna” and tried to position it so that it would aim at Joseph’s head. With only one arm and his legs, it was a feat of strength, but the boy was too lost in fear and concern for his twin to realize it. Finally, after almost a minute, where his poor brother had been screaming and screaming, suffering at the hands of Joseph, Alejandro managed to aim at Mac Ferlan’s head. He pulled the trigger and, mercifully, the blowback was strong enough to break some ribs and finally render him unconscious.

He never saw Joseph Mac Ferlan’s head exploding, his insane brain splattering all over the wall of his cabin…

Chapter 3: Aftermath

Alejandro’s mind went back to his visit to the Cemetery, earlier this day. He didn’t want to remember what had happened after the Incident, not yet. Strangely enough, it was the part which horrified him the most. He didn’t really understood why. A hospital, his parents, doctor Smith, all in all, it had been a pretty safe environment. Still, it had also been the first place he had seen after being « reborn » as he sometimes referred to what Joseph had done to him.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” asked Alaric, with trepidation in his voice.

“Oww, my little bro is all afraid for me, it’s so cuutte!” answered Alejandro in the most irritating way he could.

“Very funny. Hilarious.”

“Yeah, I know. But what can I say, I inherited the humor and good look, you got the muscles!”

“Ha !”

The sarcasm in his older brother’s words had finally managed to put a smile on Alaric’s face. It had been worth the effort then. Alejandro knew how protective his twin could be at time. Al' spent more time worrying about his Minor brother than doing hus body-building routine… and man, was he bodybuilding. He was basically this picture of the perfect teenager in movies, with chiseled abs, strong arms and legs and a general impression of strength, his only blemish the scar left by Mac Ferlan, a white line on his forehead. Overall, he had the look Alejandro usually hated the most among MAJORS. Plus, he was clever, sensible and very intelligent. Life is unfair that way, when one is a Minor.

But, more importantly, he was the only MAJOR he truly trusted, the only one who had never even tried to tell him that bonding would help him after what had happened with Mac Ferlan. He had supported Alejandro’s wished to remain trim and physically fit, when Ofelia and Jules wanted him to become the typical Minor: slightly overweight and cute like a piglet. His brother had helped him found the materials to build his bench-press, exercises, be a person, and not a jewel. Not that his parents didn’t want the best for him, but they simply felt that, had they been more classic in his education, he wouldn’t have suffered the way he did. For Alejandro, had they done that, Alaric would have died under Mac Ferlan’s rage, so he was pretty okay with his early education.

“I’ll be right there”, said Alaric, pointing at an old oak tree, some 20 meters away, far enough to not hear Alejandro’s words, but close enough to intervene, should anything happen.

“Got it. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

Alejandro looked at his brother walking toward the tree, and finally managed the will to cover the few meters between him and the tomb. The twins had had difficulties finding it. It was unkept, and the cemetary’s guard had tried to dissuade them to go there. He had only relented when the Minor had told him that he needed closure. The urgency in his word had convinced the man to let them pass.

Joseph’s resting place was covered in weeds, the stone grey and dull. There was only his name, Joseph Mac Ferlan in gold letters. Despite the horror, despite the atrocity he had done, the misery he had made his life, Alejandro did not begrudge those letters. The monster was also a son, and his parents at least had this right. Still, he hated this tomb. He hated it with a passion which made anything else in his life pale. And that was the problem.

“You said that I was yours. And I’ve spent ten fucking years trying to run from it. I did my best, I tried to become the contrary of what you wanted me to be, a submissive pet, a passive belonging. Everything I’ve done… everything…”

His voice cracked and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. Alejandro wiped them angrily. It was so hard ! Harder than he believed it would be, but he had to do that. He had to, to be free, to be able to become whoever he wanted to be.

“I… everything was done to spite you. If I had a choice to make, I would think about what you would have wanted me to do, and I would do the opposite. In a sense, well, you were right. I’m yours. But not anymore. After today, after a fucking decade of suffering, I’ll be free. I’ll do whatever the hell I want, not because it would make you furious, were you alive, but because I want to. I’ll laze around some days and let my family give me food and whatnot, because I sometimes want to, even if it would be the attitude you would have expected of me.”

Alejandro made a pause. He could feel his anger burning up, but it was different from before. It was high, but also going away, in a certain way. He doubted it would ever leave him completely, but at least it wouldn’t consume him like it usually did. He wouldn’t have to pretend that he was okay, when all he wanted to do was scream and kick and hurt MAJORS. That part of him was already going away, resting on the tomb of his tormentor. Still, the hardest part was yet to come.

“So… It’s terribly difficult to say, you know, but… But, I wanted to say, thank you. No, really. Had you not be the insane freak you were, I would be like almost all other Minors I know off. Passive, submissive, unable to live by myself, unable to even cook for myself instead of eating whatever junk food you guys gorge upon. Which is disgusting, by the way. But, yeah. Thank you. You reduced my left arm to pulp, but gave me the opportunity to be a person, with a strong mind, a strong will, to be what Minors should be: proud of themselves, the equals in all but size to you guys. Plus, I just have to agitate my stump and MAJORS gets overly cautious and kind around me, it helps a lot to avoid troubles So, thank you, asshole. Still, whatever lies beyond the grave, I hope you’re suffering, and I hope then when I’ll die, hopefully very aged and with a family of my own, I’ll get the chance to break your cursed arm…”

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Alejandro allowed himself the right to smile while listening to his music. The bastard’s ghost had come back so brutally this night, because he had felt that his plaything had finally found the strength to be himself and not his belonging. It could rage all it wanted, because there was one thing he couldn’t change, now. After ten years, the Minor had finally closed this chapter of his life, the long, so long, aftermath of the Incident. And what ended before a tomb had begun in a bed.

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The first thing he heard when waking up was the noise of the machinery next to him. Alejandro felt incredibly groggy. Everything was foggy, and even his thoughts slow, as if they were in a strange mist, or perhaps ice, or as it sometimes hapenned in dreams, when he was deeply asleep. Before he could think about it, a massive face passed before his eyes, and he recoiled in terror. The MAJOR nurse, a blond, with piercing blue eyes, looked at him and gasped, retreating as quickly as she had appeared.

“Doctor ! Doctor, he’s awake”, she called in an phone, rather forcefully to the Minor’s ears. Don’t worry sweety, she said to him, while keeping her distance. Doctor Smith will be there soon…

After perhaps three or four minutes, Alejandro heard a door open and an old-looking black man approached from his right. He whispered with the nurse for a short while, and then, the lady left the room. The MAJOR, probably doctor Smith, had to be very old, at least one hundred. He was almost bald, with a perfect white beard, which contrasted with his dark-brown skin. He flashed a smile at Alejandro, but the Minor boy was still too terrified and too groggy to react. He noticed, however, that this smile was a little forced.

“Hello, Alejandro”, said the doctor with a deep, warm, and reassuring voice. “I know that you must feel strange. Frightened and in the same time somewhat comatose, perhaps, yes?”

Smith then went silent and after a time Alejandro finally understood that he was waiting for his answer. But the kid did not feel well enough to talk, so he simply nodded. Doctor Smith smiled again, more genuinely this time.

“Good. You’re a tough nut, you know that? I don’t think that most MAJOR would be as resilient and calm as you are now, after what you went through. And what you did! My, that was heroic indeed. It came with a grim cost, to be sure but… you deserve respect, Alejandro, at the very least.”

The young Minor felt a little overwhelmed by all this. He wanted to answer, to tell the sympathetic doctor that he did not understand what he meant, that he still felt bad, that he still felt as if Joseph’s mind was invading his body, that… Uncontrollably, tears flowed and he begun to sob, and gurgle strangely. It was only then that he noticed the pipe going into his mouth and throat, the oxygen mask on his face, He couldn’t look further, because his head was maintained in place by something, but it was enough to freak him down.

“Calm down, Alejandro…” said Smith, with a hint of urgency in his calming voice. “You aren’t in danger, I swear. You’ve been badly hurt, and you need those things for the time being. Now, I’m terribly sorry to ask this, especially right now, but… do you remember what happened? It’s very important for me to know, because otherwise I won’t be able to help you accordingly to your needs, Alejandro. Do you understand?”

The eight years old nodded, tears still flowing from his eyes. He remembered. He remembered everything. His arm, his left arm… An extremely high-pitched wail came out of his mouth as he tried to move his left arm, to make his finger into a fist and felt nothing. Worse than nothing. He felt something dull from his shoulder to some part, a very short one at that, of his arm and then a ghostly itchy feeling, as if ants were crawling under the skin of his left arm. He desperately tried to look at it, but couldn’t, which elicited another wail.

“I’m sorry… I’m terribly sorry”, said the doctor with such deep sadness that it managed to capture the Minor’s attention. “You’re just a eight year old kid, a Minor… but… your left arm… it was beyond saving. It was a miracle you did not bleed to death when brought here. You can thank your brother for that. Alaric suffered grievous blows to the head and had several broken bones, but he still managed to call for help after… after Mac Ferlan had been dealt with. But I really need to ask you one question, Alejandro. Just one, and then, I swear you’ll be allowed to rest and your parents and sister will be able to visit you. Are you okay with that?”

Alejandro did not feel as if he had any choice in that anyway. He nodded once more.

“Did… did the MAJOR who did this to you", said Anton Smith, waving his head over the kid’s body… "Did he tried to bond to you? Did he tried to… to enter your mind?”

Alejandro nodded and despair painted itself on the good old doctor’s face.

“Did he succeed?”

“…. esch… “

The doctor covered his face with his hands and begun to sob. It was terrible, to see such a wise-looking, kind, MAJOR cry like that. Then, after a while, he presented his face to Alejandro.

“I don’t expect you to trust MAJORS for a long time, perhaps ever again. But if you ever think that we’re all the same as the one who inflicted such pain upon you, remember your brother, who’s also here in the hospital, getting healed, how your parents love you and only want the best for you. Can you promise me you’ll try, at least?”

Alejandro nodded, feeling too tired to talk again. He receded in the bed, and listened calmly to the discussion the doctor had with his parents who entered his room as soon as the doctor had stopped their little talk. The broken voice of her mother, the hollow tone of his father, how they barely dared touch his head, ruffle his hairs, their tears, falling on him… It left a lasting impression. He wouldn’t be able to love them as before, for a long time, perhaps ever, he knew that with the strange wisdom of children, but he also knew he would always care about them very much. Life was strange…

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5.43 a.m. Alejandro felt good enough to go to his computer. This thing had costed his parents a fortune. Most Minors hadn’t a computer to call their own. Then again, most Minors did not even know how to read or write, so a computer would have been useless. This always infuriated the teenager. Sure, you couldn’t prevent a MAJOR to pick you up whenever he wanted to, he knew it by experience, so much more than most! But you could always learn! You could always become better, use your brain. There was no need to try to outperform a MAJOR physically when you could simply use your imagination to craft new things, write new stories, innovate! After all, most MAJORS weren’t as imaginative as they pretended to be, really. They spent far too much time competing with each other for the most trivial things.

Humming to the music, Un Poco Loco, he went to his favorite site, « MINOR things in a major world ». Just the name of it always made him smile. It was a website designed by Minors, for Minors, everywhere in the world, with sections in more than twelve languages. A lot of work for perhaps a thousand readers worldwide, but one Alejandro relished. He even participated when he heard some pretty big news from his parents. A geneticist and an astronomer often had interesting discoveries to share, and more often than not, they didn’t care about Minors all over the world learning some discoveries before the MAJORS. Another advantage of being mostly seen as witless pets by the giants around us, I guess, thought Alejandro. Even his parents were far less lenient about what they said of their work around him than around Alaric or Lindsey.

But today, he was here to read, not to write, and the headline caught his attention, quite easily at that.

«BREAKING NEWS ! Winton High allows 17y.o. unbonded Minor to go to school!»

Now, that was something unheard off. The Minor teenager perused the article. As often on the site, it was mostly comprised of hearsays and rumors –not that a Minor would have access to official channels of information, most of the time anyway-, but it was also confirmed by an extract from Winton’s website, stating proudly that a certain miss Ivory was the first ever Minor student to attend unbonded, and that the school was certain that she would succeed brilliantly there. Having read that, Alejandro did not know who this miss Ivory truly was, but he was certain that talking with her would be incredibly interesting. Who knew, perhaps one day he would meet her?