“How can this be possible, Ma? I’ve been trying to find this mark on my arm for so long! _Nothing!”_

“You’ve been at it for four minutes. Take a break,”Ma replies. I haven’t only been trying to find this mark for four minutes. I was _born _with one, supposedly. I’ve checked every part of my arm about ten thousand times now. Whatever this means, it surely cannot be good. So, and I hate to admit this, I follow my mothers’ advice and storm off, making sure I don’t hear whatever messed up advice she gives me next.

Hopeless, I search up “markless arm” once again. No information about it. School starts in ten minutes, and no one is going to feel sorry for me. Oh, no, they simply _must _have _some _comment about this monstrous situation! If they had any idea at all what this feels like, may they would be just a tad bit nicer to a lonely, friendless, withered-up teenager. Sighing, I quickly apply what little makeup I have— not that anyone is going to be _impressed, _no, lonely Gilda— what a disgusting name— is just trying to keep up with the trends. How puny of her.

“Honey? You’re off to school now,” Ma reminds me as _her_ best friend, Rachel comes through the door. Applying my slip-ons with white socks, I grab my book bag and rush out the door. The wind on my face blows my hair in it. How annoying. I roll my long sleeves down, nobody will know my secret if I do.

Swiftly getting on the public bus and finding a seat, a boy who looks just as devastated as me sits next to me and sighs. Possibly I could strike up a conversation? “Hey th—“ “Don’t talk to me!” He replies spontaneously. Creating an even more dramatic sigh than he did, I roll up my sleeves and start looking, knowing I’ll get no answer. “W-wait, I’m sorry… I— didn’t mean to break out at you like that… it’s just that I thought you were someone else…”

“It’s fine. Really. You remind me of myself, in some ways. Except I’m always mad at myself because apparently God said I have no friends.”

“You don’t have a mark either? I think I have an idea on why some people don’t have marks. Some people at my school that don’t have any form together and try to find a reasonable explanation for this… thing. The most possible reason is that the government or whoever they are are using us as test subjects, but there are some other out-there things some of them have said…” He stops there, probably because of how much I’m just blankly staring, but can he blame me? _I’ve been used as a test subject since birth and no one has ever told me about it?_

“This just… stings. Give me a moment to process all this,” I say, trying my very best not to break out in tears this very moment. This mark means so much to me, and I just want to know I have a best friend out there…

(Continuing/editing this later— I’m free for suggestions!)