The morning of my 18th birthday was anything but special. No celebration of my right of passage into adulthood. No cake and candles. Not even a "Happy Birthday Layla, congratulations on making it this far without turning into one of them."

Well to be fair, they won't be able to say that until after The Examination when I'm told that I'm free of the problem gene that causes The Eccentric. The mutation that makes us go from normal human being with dreams and aspirations to power welding monster with a strong hate against society. Or so I've been told.

I've never actually met one, though from what my father has told me about the facilities he works in, you want to stay clear of them if you don't want your entire body set ablaze or your brain dead from a single electric shock.

When I arrive at school, it is no different. Met with blank stares from caffeinated students and a chorus of yawns, I make special attention to blend in more than I usually do as I walk down the crowded halls of my public school. No one knows this afternoon is the moment I find out whether I continue my journey as a typical teenager or become a monster with kinetic abilities locked away for life.

Ok, so maybe I'm overreacting a little, the likeliness of the gene being present is extremely low, but those odds are enough to keep you up at night. Which is why today, I hide beneath a dark hoodie and sweats regardless of the bleating sun outside.

"Layla, hey!" A voice calls from behind me, breaking my train of thought and I am forced to turn around knowing who it belongs to.

"Jesus, you look rough. Did you get any sleep last night?" Exclaims my closest friend Ella as she grabs my hoodie and pulls it back to reveal the dark bags under my red eyes and mess of unbrushed hair.

"Let me go," I groan, pulling the hood back up before the rest of my friends can see me in such a state.

"I know you said you didn't want us to bring it up, but we should talk about it," begins Damian who trails behind Ella like a nervous dog, "we all know why you were up last night."

"If I told you not to bring it up then why would you," I start as I stop in front of my classroom and lean against the doorway, "besides, if I haven't triggered the mutation yet then the chance of it happening now is-"

"One in five hundred thousand, we know," mumbles Ella as she punches Damian and whispers, "I told you she would get mad if we mentioned it."

"Anyway, we just wanted to come by and say good luck, I guess," begins Ella as she pulls me in for a hug.

"Seriously guys, stop making a big deal about this. I have perfect genes remember?" I joke, gesturing to my hoodie covered body as I back into the classroom and wink at them. I wave them goodbye as I take my seat, pretending to be more confident about today than I truely am.

I begin to take my position staring out the window and pretending I can't hear the demands of the teacher when a sudden conversation catches my attention from behind. Careful not to disturb the two girls who gossip in the back row, I lean back in my seat the slightest to get an idea of their chattering.

"I know, it's insane. What are the chances, right?" Whispers the first girl as she moves her desk closer to her friend to continue their gossip.

"He triggered on the football field, I was there. He got into a punch up with some idiot from Greendale, and the weather just changed," the other girl continues, "it started to rain, in the middle of summer and this huge gust of wind knocked over the boy while Harley just stood there."

Harley Cooper, captain of the football team, total heartthrob and as cliche as it seems, bad boy. I'm talking motorcycle riding, cigarette smoking, bad boy with major daddy issues. I guess you can add weather manipulating Eccentric to the list now.

"So what does that make him, an Eight? He controls the weather right?" Asks the first girl and her friend sighs.

"No a Nine, did you even listen in history?" Says the second girl, "Atmokinesis, I think is what its called."

"Layla, doesn't your dad work in one of those facilities?" Asks the first girl who clearly noticed my eavesdropping and I curse myself for leaning back too far.

"Ah, yeah," I mumble turning around to face them, "he's a scientist there."

"So like, you would know what we are talking about right?" Whispers the second girl as she leans forward in her seat, "Nine's control the weather don't they?"

"Yeah, I think so," I begin, nervously looking around to show my sudden discomfort.

"Damn, so like he could kill any one of us without a second thought," gasps the first girl, "why does that make him even hotter?"

"Shut up, he's a monster. I can't believe you would be attracted to one of them," snarls the second girl, "they aren't like us."

I take that as a cue to stop listening to their banter and turn around back into my seat, making awkward eye contact with the disappointed teacher in the process.

Harley Cooper is an Eccentric. Days ago I remember sitting behind him in chemistry, and he asked me for a pencil, he seemed so... Normal. My heat begins to race as I take a moment to realise the reality I face this afternoon is all too real.

***

I somehow make it through the rest of the school day with only two minor breakdowns following the first. When I jump into my parents' car at lunchtime only my father makes an effort to lift my spirits although I know its all for show.

"Hey Kiddo, how was your da-"

"One of the boys at school triggered early on the weekend," I interrupt not caring for manners as I drag my self into the middle seat, "he's a Nine."

"Now that's interesting," mumbles my father as he turns to stare out the window, "we haven't seen any new early triggering since last year."

"Could've been me," I mumble as I blatantly look out the window knowing the ride to the facility is only short.

"That's silly talk, Layla," begins my mum as she turns around to face me at a stop light, "you're going to be fine. Stop overthinking this."

I can't help but agree. I mean we don't exactly have a history of this thing. There has only been one Eccentric in my family, my cousin Trish.

It has been six years since she moved to Ocean City and six years since the discovery of the Eccentric in that very place. She went through The Examination when the drugs that caused the mutation were first discovered as possible mutagens for those under the age of eighteen and was classified a Two.

We never saw her again - literally. She had the ability of photokinesis, able to disappear into thin air and appear again in the blink of an eye. Of course, the government didn't like the idea of a virtually indistinguishable robber walking the streets, so she was taken away to a facility.

I glance up at my parents and wonder whether this may be the last time that I see them. No amount of self-assurance calms my racing heart.

***

The first thing I notice about the facility is the empty feeling that washes over me. There are only two other families in the waiting room, one is a relatively young couple sitting alone, and the other family consists of two young girls running circles around their nervous parents.

"You must be the Freys'. Take a seat, the doctor will see you soon," smiles the young woman behind the desk but she returns to her work before we can thank her.

Seconds later a man in a white coat and glasses sticks his head out the door and beckons me in. I give my parents one last hug as they wish me luck though I don't waste time with goodbyes.

As the doctor ushers me in, I look over my shoulder taking in my mother's reassuring smile and my fathers kind eyes then shoot them a cheeky grin back before the door is closed behind me.

"Happy Birthday, Layla," laughs the strange doctor as he flashes a rehearsed smile and picks up a clip board from a metal table that sits under a reflective window. I give him a forced smile back and take a seat on the exam table noticing the one way mirror though I do not turn to face who is watching on the other side.

"Your records display ample physical health, and your family history shows little signs of apoptosis," he remarks as he looks through a cupboard of medicine and grabs a small bottle of clear liquid with a needle. I cringe at the thought of it piercing through my skin and injecting the potentially lethal fluid into my blood.

"Don't worry, it is extremely unlikely you'll react to the serum," the doctor says as if he had read my mind.

"One in five hundred thousand odds to be exact," I mumble, remembering the number that I had used to reassure my self over the past months.

"Yes, of course.I see you have done your homework," chuckles the doctor as he holds the syringe up to the light and gives it a flick to ensure it is intact, "I guess I don't have to explain the process to you then."

After he injects the serum, the expression of the mutated gene will be triggered only if it is present. Then they will take a sample of blood for a final analysis to confirm the extent of the mutation. I try to remember the side effects of the serum though my nerves make it hard to focus on anything but the sharp point of the syringe in front of me. The higher the ranking of their ability, the worse the reaction is the best my distracted mind can come up with.

I glance over at the doctor nervously and watch as he stands up and walks over, bringing both the serum and a small electronic device that resembles a mobile phone. His cold grip on my arm startles me out of my thoughts, and I take a sharp breath.

"You should only feel a pinch," explains the doctor as I look away, "deep breath in and out." I feel nothing at first, no reaction, no pain not even that ache in your arm that you get after a regular injection and a sense of hope overcomes me.

"See easy," the doctor turns away and starts to collect what I can assume is the blood sampling kit. I open my mouth to thank him but nothing comes out, I try again this time recognising the numb feeling of my lips. Glancing down at my arms and legs, I realise they are shaking uncontrollably, and I begin to panic.

I attempt to stand, but my lack of feeling causes me to fall into a heap on the floor. As I continue to spasm and jerk, I manage to bring down the tray table with me, sending medical instruments flying. The sudden commotion gets the doctors attention and he turns around in confusion, but it isn't until he looks down that he notices my shaking figure on the floor. His mouth pops open in shock, and he reaches for the device he had earlier, punching in a code with his trembling hands.

"The mutation has triggered. I've never seen anything like it, she's gone into shock!" the doctor shouts into the phone as he backs away from me, fear noticeable in his eyes.

I continue to spasm on the floor as my mind slowly goes blank. I think back to my family waiting outside for their genetically perfect daughter to walk through the doors, but I now know that will never happen. Droopy eyelids start to cover my line of vision, and I'm left with the parting image of men in DAC uniforms coming toward me, ready take me away for good.

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