Prologue--Grey Zone

Graphite Tanner was one of the teenagers forced into inhumane breeding of powerful beings called Glitches. She struggles currently with the internal demons caused by this and her own wickedness.

There are things that happened to me that words can't congregate to explain: a deep evil growing inside of me as surely as the sun will rise the next day, and my dire need to suppress it.  First, there was that strange boy that was sinister enough in itself.  One thing about love that no one ever told me was how involuntary it is.  I no more chose him than I chose to have a scar down my face and my eyes to be black.  He was born into the same destiny of evil, and yet he chose to be happy.  The way he carried himself, that bright and huge smile that lit up, the quirky comments spurting from his mouth like he was a leaky drain pipe.  He is not me and I am not like him; but that's a story for a different time and a different teller.  His story was never mine; that I know.

"Graphite Tanner.  So what are you, an evil pencil that skins animals?"  Even at the early age of ten I still knew that I was intellectually ahead of my peers and that I should accept this, separate myself from them, and move on.  With a black braid down my back, my Wizlin scar proudly thrust out for everyone to see, and my dark wardrobe apparent even with the colors, I was evil.  So when this strange boy with the beautiful eyes asked me this pained question, I had no idea how to respond.  The gap between his teeth made me think of orthodontics, and that was something I detested; although, I knew that he was attractive and I should stay away.

"No."  I am quiet.  Silence is what was expected of me, so from there I became Silence.  At age eleven, I wanted to name my first child Capital-S-Silent.  Abstract names are not unheard of.  In fact, normal names aren't welcome here.  If it means black, or dark, or evil, you're good.  

Pain was a gravitation that was not welcomed.  It started when classmates would pass me the ball in physical education, and because of a brief touch their small bodies were sent to writhe on the floor.  Looking back now, I thought it was just an issue that I would grow out of in time.  Red balls clanging against the wooden floors, harsh fingers gripping into my shoulders, leading me away.  Take Graphite away.

At that profound moment, I decided to be a good Wizlin.  This was before Val Haloway, before Bree Tate, before all of the people that led me to Grey Zoning and being involved in one of the greatest scandals and uncharted horrors of our history--the Glitch Creation.

Only now is it mentioned in textbooks.  Colored photos pasted on glossy pages for kids to gape at.  Thank goodness Glitches and Grey Zoners aren't an issue any longer.  I am brought in, perched on a chewed stool (things that go on in young children's classrooms is beyond my understanding) and I share my story.  Primary school gets a very brief rundown.  But with adults, sixteen and older, I truly share the horror.  The pain and blunt lack of humanity (ha, such an ironic term) that happened in those past days.  

I feel as if you can handle it.  I hope you can; you might've heard other's stories of the Glitch Creation.  There are probably dozens of questions right now across your mind.  Maybe by finally bluntly stating what it was like will help.  Just be happy you weren't a Grey Zoner.