Prologue

I can only tell you one thing. He is after me, and he won't stop until he finds me. I am the only hope for the human race to continue to live freely.

If you enjoy your freedom, then read this. This is my story. Pass the word and let others know about what's happening.

But I also have to warn you. Going any further than right here can mean certain death. You are about to enter a very dangerous place, and once you're there, there is no going back. Ever.

If your still reading this I guess nothing I say is going to scare you away, listen carefully as I tell my story.

It begins like this...

* * *

Ever since I was little, I have always been given strange looks wherever I went. Maybe it was because my mother was in an insane asylum. Or maybe the fact that my father is locked up for life for murder. Maybe I was just simply a strange child.

Either way, I always got strange looks from people. Whenever I stepped foot outside that door, I got all these strange looks.

I never really got an answer from my grandma about why that was, the one time I had asked her she told me it was because I was special.

“Why do people stare at me funny, Grams?” I had asked her, my face was bright with curiosity.

“They stare because you are special. You have the Mark of the Chosen.” She had pointed out my birthmark of a star on my upper arm. I never liked that birthmark. I always kept it covered.

I stared out the open window, the lazy summer breeze blowing my long black hair around my face. I sighed and rolled over on my bed so I was looking at the ceiling instead.

My eyes strayed over the long, webbing cracks that were there. I always thought that one day the roof would cave in on me, but somehow it never did.

Life here was lonely for me, no one wanted to be friends with the daughter of two psychopaths. I always kept my head down and avoided the looks that people were giving me, but somehow I could always hear the words they whispered.

Like, "Freak." Or, "That's her, her father's a murderer and her mother's insane." Maybe that was true, but it didn't make me crazy or dangerous by default, did it?

“Peyton? Sweetie, can you come in the living room?” Grams voice drifted to me from where she was, which was probably the living room.

I sighed and pushed myself off the the bed. I walked into the living room, the sounds of the TV becoming louder.

I went in and sat down on the couch, facing Grams. “Whatcha need?”

“Today is your mother's birthday, and I think you should go see her.” I gave her a weird look, I had only visited my mother once, and Grams had gotten mad at me when I had.

Mother had been saying some kind of nonsense that I don't really remember now. There was a reason she was there, she was flat out crazy.

“Grams I-”

“I know that you have mixed feelings about her, but the doctors say she isn't doing very well, I think maybe you should see her, at least one more time.” Her face was full of mixed feelings. I knew she loved her daughter, but she didn't want me around her either.

“Fine, I'll go see her.”

***

About an hour later I was standing outside an old brick building with fading words written above the metal door: Rothman's Institute For The Mentally Insane.

Grams hadn't come with me, she had stayed home. I took a deep breath and pushed the button next to the door.

“What is your business?” A voice asked from the little speaker above the button.

“I came to visit my mother.” I felt something strange, I had been here before, yes. But there was something different about this time. Something felt strange, I turned around and saw a man standing across the street, staring at me.

He was wearing a black hoodie, and I couldn't see his face. Then in a moment of strangeness and movie-like quality, a car drove by, and when it was gone, so was the man.

I blinked and shook my head, the man must not have been there at all. I hoped crazy wasn't inherited, I thought as the door buzzed and I was granted access into the building.

Pushing the thoughts of the man outside to the back of my mind, I walked up to the front desk.

“A visitor, I presume?” The old woman peeked down at me through her glasses, which were perched on the end of her nose.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“What is your name, and the name of the person you are visiting?” She set her fingers on her keyboard and waited for me to tell her.

“I'm Peyton Grayson, and I'm visiting my mother, Kelly Grayson.” Her fingers moved across the keyboard and I waited while listening to the soft keystrokes.

I looked around the dull gray room, and realized that it was almost devoid of anything, and that the furniture was nailed down to the floor.

The sound of the printer buzzing, made me draw my attention back to the lady in front of me. She placed a name-tag in a plastic cover that was attached to a lanyard. She handed it to me and I placed it around my neck.

I walked over to a door, and after a low buzzing sound, the door opened and I walked down the silent hallway. I passed door after door, and when I got to the right one, I froze.

I know that Grams wanted me to visit her, but I wasn't sure I was ready. I don't know why the old lady changed her mind, she was usually so stubborn.

I took a deep breath, then I slowly pushed open the metal door and walked into the plain white room. I saw my mother, she was staring blankly out a window, murmuring something under her breath. Her hair was unbrushed and falling in tangles down her back, and she was running a finger over her lips as she spoke.

“Mom?” My voice was soft, I didn't want to startle her. She kept staring out the window, her lips moving, but she never said anything aloud.

“Mom?” This time she looked at me, a bright smile coming to her face. But even her smile didn't make the fact that she had dark circles under her eyes any less noticeable. Grams was right, she didn't look good.

"Peyton." Her voice was slightly slurred, like she had just been to the dentist and had gotten a shot for a cavity.

She stood from her window seat, but her legs wobbled beneath her, causing her to shake. She walked unsteadily towards me, something held out in an outstretched hand.

It glinted silver and I saw a flash of red. She was right in front of me now, her eyes looked tired and they didn't have a sparkle in them anymore.

"Take this, and never forget who you are Peyton." For that one second, she sounded normal. And in that one second, I forgot why she was here, then the moment was shattered.

"Peyton, where did you go?" Her eyes had taken on a glassy look, and I didn't even think she could see me anymore.

"Mom, I'm right here."

She whipped her head around, "Who said that?" She began to scream, a loud bloodcurdling scream. She fell against the nearest wall, curling into a ball, while still screaming.

She looked at me her eyes full of fear and asked, "Why?" Tears fell from her eyes, and she shook her head at me before she began to scream again.

A nurse rushed inside the room, a syringe in her hand. It was filled with a clear liquid. When she saw me she looked surprised.

"What on Earth are you doing in here child? This woman is not allowed visitors. Please leave."

With shock coursing through my body, I slowly backed out of the room and soon found myself back in the reception area.

"Did you get everything you needed?" The woman behind the counter winked at me, and for the briefest second, her eyes were the brightest of blues.

My eyes went wide, and I practically ran out of the hospital. In the bright sunshine, nothing felt normal. Then again, my experiences with normal were far and in between. And that was something I just had to deal with.