Her Conviction- A Short Story about a Brilliant Minded young man and a Incredibly Intuitive young girl. (Chapter 1)

                                                                                   Ⅰ

I am far from being a young man of a prepossessing appearance, though I can not say I am wholly unattractive. If one were to see me, one would think nothing much of me. My countenance stands out not, and my style of dress is the same. I have no goals for which to strive for, nor the want for any. I have no motivation,  other than that of eating, sleeping, sexual pleasure and survival. I go to school everyday, and there to, I do not stand out. My grades are modest, some A’s, mostly B’s, with a few C’s. I have few friends, enough not to warrant me an outcast or an outlier concerning popularity or ability. Though there isn't a strong spirit of amity amongst us. I welcome that weak spirit of amity. I do not feel as if I have to make a conscious effort to strengthen what is called our “friendship”. If one is to say anything about  me, let it be the truth, which is that; I am normal.

 Here is another truth, that I have made all these things a habit. Yes, a habit. Characteristics which are not at all original to myself, I display; for the sole reason of avoiding attention. Not for any virtuous reasons like that of humility, but to avoid the annoyance and galling praise of others. Why, you ask? Well for a simple reason. Because I am a genius. Yes! Yes! “Said every narcissist ever”, is what currently runs through your mind, yes? Please, perish the thought. What I speak to you is nothing but the truth. Ever since I was a little boy, I have displayed an unusually high intellectual aptitude, nigh-photographic memory and an expeditious learning ability. It was in the 1st year of my life that I gained the ability to read and speak, then write ( I read almost all of the books in my father's study at the time). Afterwards, I gained the ability to do arithmetic, geometry and the rest of your mathematical basics. In my father's study there was a math workbook which was at a university level of difficulty. Both of my parents are school teachers, though they did not contribute much in my first years concerning that of learning. 

Anyways, I made my way through the whole workbook and was scolded harshly for doing so, that is until my father looked through the workbook and noticed that the answers I put were correct. This was discovered after he brought an answer key book to accompany the workbook. After taking all of this into consideration, my parents started to realize that I was different from other kids. That I am not normal. That I was an outlier from the rest. That I stood out. That I was a genius. From then on I was treated differently from the rest of the children around me. I was given more difficult problems to solve and more weighty and lengthy homework assignments to do. And my tests were of a higher difficulty than the others at the request of my parents. And everytime I would do outstandingly well, the teachers would praise me and show to all the class and say, “Here! Children, you should be more like this one!”, as if to say, “Here! Children, you are not enough! Be more like this one and you should gain my love and care!”. That is most certainly how it seemed because that is most certainly how my peers took it and , as a consequence, I was alienated by them. Even as a small child I could see this, but the adults, blinded by years of experience and ready with their predispositions towards certain individuals, so ready with their custom of vain adulation for those who do exceedingly well, and ridicule for those who fall short in comparison; sadly could not.

 Now, concerning some things, save for others, I am not a contrarian. I find that going against the grain at all times and when least uncalled for spoils the joy of life. I, unlike many of those who have too many brains, loved the company of those around me, of friends, of family, of peers. I hold no pride in this faulty faculty of reason which is better suited to be called a tool rather than the standard for judging the truth and falsity of all things. There are far more things in which the reason will fail and will continue to fail to know. I found that I rather disliked the natural disposition of my fellow geniuses. My parents, one time, brought me to a conference set up by MENSA, which allowed for the gathering and meeting of us with higher cerebral efficacy. One would surmise from this meeting that with so much brain power in one place, a number of the world's problems could be solved. On the contrary! I found that, after conversing with them for a while, more problems would be made rather than solved. They were cold in their calculations, apathetic concerning the feelings of others and prideful in their gifts. Honestly, I considered none of them geniuses, just talking textbooks. They had a superficial knowledge of most things which, if you didn't know better, would fool you otherwise. And with their superficial knowledge, they made superficial judgments of others for whom they did not know, nor did not want to know. 

Rather than seeing people as flesh and blood humans with feelings, dreams and aspirations, they saw them as data, as numbers and mathematical figures, as charts and graphs. As if one could fully understand the complexities of human nature with this alone! When I pointed this out, some were interested in hearing what I had to say while others accused me of idealism. Not taking the title as a pejorative as most unnecessarily do, I readily accepted it, to their astonishment. From there I could tell they had there prejudices about me already and those who were willing to listen to what I had to say happily accepted it with vain curiosity, which is better suited for those who do not want the pressure that commitment brings with it, and skipped happily along away with the new idea of someone else in their minds, never committing to any of them mind you. This is not me saying that a healthy, modest amount of curiosity is sinful, but too much curiosity turns one into a doormat of a brain, and thus a talking encyclopedia rather than a thinking man in my opinion. “Well sir, it is your opinion, which I should be the one to rightfully accept or reject if I so choose.” Very well. But I must say, first find out if my opinion is the truth, then decide whether to rightfully accept it or reject it, that way you wouldn't be doing the latter without the knowledge of the former.

 Anyway, this experience left me wanting for the company of the commoners than of the intellectual bourgeoisie. You may sometimes read in articles online that some geniuses feel alienated and disconnected from their peers because of their gifts, and came to disdain those who were lower than they were on the bell curve. Admittedly, I at first found this strange. I never felt that way. Sure I knew more and could learn things faster than those around me, but this never left me with the impression that I was better than they were. I loved the friendship of my peers, listening to their stories, their upcoming events, their personal dramas, distresses, worries, dreams, beliefs, hopes, loves and romances. I loved it all and hoped to be involved one day. I enjoyed playing with the kids, and they with me. These were honest, genuine people who were themselves and didn't try to act a certain way around me nor put up a vain facade. I didn't hold any contempt for my peers, that is, until I started to be shunned by them. Let it be known that my contempt for them is merely the result of their treatment of me, there is no causal relation. The cause and source of my contempt stems from the adults' treatment of me and my peers. They put me on a pedestal and pushed them to be more like me, which is impossible. I am the only “me” that ever has, does, and ever will exist, and they are the only “they” that ever has, does or will exist. They can not become me and I can not become them. 

That is the truth, which the adults were blind to. Instead of instilling a spirit of motivation to strive to do better, the adults inculcated a spirit of contempt for me, because they tried to force their students and teachers to be “more like me”. What absurdity! One can not force genius nor can one artificially make it. That is something the children understood but the adults did not. And with this, their reaction to their treatment and mine as well, was justified. But so to was my reaction to my treatment as well as thier's. To avoid them being hurt any more, to avoid the vain adulation of which my genius was continuously met with, to avoid the conflict that I foresaw in the future and the pain that would be brought with it, I hid my gifts. I hid them and never again let them arise, unless its utility was much needed. I hid them from my teachers, from my peers, from my parents and from myself. Of course many were disappointed, especially my parents and teachers, and as a consequence, they saw my genius as something of a fluke, or that I had an accident that they didn't know about. They took me to doctors to see what was wrong, and the results always came back as perfectly healthy. Confused by my sudden change, they decided to not worry about it too much and treated me as a normal child from then on, but always held a reticent hope and suspicion towards me concerning my abilities.

 It was then that I started to adopt habits that weren't my own, beliefs that weren't my own and likes and dislikes that weren't my own. I remade myself into a new person that did not cause harm to anyone because of his gifts. It worked. Now I am here, as I explained in the beginning. I am not who I used to be. The happy, optimistic, idealistic, friendly genius who truly enjoyed the company of normal people who didn't have the same gifts as me. I, now, am a teenager, a normal teennager, full of rebellion, hatred, lust, naivety , and apathetic indifference. Of course, I am still the former at heart, but the latter is just a false disposition that i've put on for so long. Too long, to where I start to believe my true self is the latter rather than the former. I hate this new me so much, but this false new me is starting to actually become me. This psychopath I've created,  I want it to die. But at the same time, I do not want to harm anyone with my gift. God in heaven, help!