Stephen's Private Blog #13
These stories about Stephen began was when he was 10 years old, and
moving to a new part of the country to attend a special school for
gifted students, in the 1950's. This was from a time before computers
would fit on a desk, and when people communicated with friends in other
countries by actual letters sent through the postal service. He wrote
225 of them to a friend. He stopped writing to his penpal, but found he
still wanted to record his life, in case he lost his memory again, and
wrote 30 entries in his first logbook. Now he is writing to an
artificial intelligence called Geenee, in the master computer in his
school for gifted students, which he started attending in 2016.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stephen is 12 in this story, in the February of year 2 of his special
school.
Stephen's Private Blog #13 "Tomorrow Is a Night Away"
Dear Geenee,
I'm 12 now. Tomorrow I start psi training. I'm afraid I won't be me
after that. But who am I anyway? Other people remember things from when
they are three or four. I don't remember anything from before I was 10.
I don't really know if I ever had parents. I am treated like I am
special, which has made me special. It's true my psi powers started
earlier than anybody else's, but that doesn't account for all of that.
They said I am the reincarnation of the first Stephen. They must have
REALLY loved him. If I am, I don't know if I can live up to that, and
I'm afraid of failing to be enough like him, and hurting the people who
loved him. I want to stop the training, but I know that won't stop my
abilities from improving to the point where they can't be denied. A few
more weeks, and I will be an Adept, whether I want to be or not, with
or without the training. There was something I could do to make me feel
better today, in a distracting way, and I did it ALL day.
I started my school "recess" early, and every half hour, I changed
the people in it, until lunch time. Then I resumed them until school
was over for the day. Scholar Pete didn't complain. Except for supper,
I did the same at home. It's late, and time for bed with Ichi. I'm so
exhausted, and so drained, I think I can actually sleep now.
Goodbye, maybe forever,
Stephen
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Grant
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