Genetically Modified Superhumans aka. GMS
Daniel & Daniella Faraday; Orphan Twins
No one was there when we got to room 226 of the school. The note specifically said, "Room 226, go alone", but the classroom was empty. We stepped further into the room, totally alert. The door slammed closed behind us when we got to the middle of the room. We whirled around, surprised. There she was. Jennifer Addison. No. Jennifer Addison with a lit match and a bottle of oil. People had always spread rumors that she was insane, but only now did we believe it. She sprayed us with the oil, making sure to drench us, then lit the match, a smirk on her face. She dropped the match and left the room, cackling like like some kind of witch. She left building E as classroom 226 was engulfed in flames, me and my twin brother locked inside.
Micheal Johnston; African-American Child of a single mother
I walked down the street, minding my own business, my messenger bag slung over my shoulder. I hated going this way for my paper route, but my boss refused to change it. I had just finished my run, when I walked past one of the many gang alleys. I glanced inside while walking past, and they glared back. I quickened my pace to a speedwalk. They chased after me, and when they caught up, they grabbed my hair and the switchblades came out.
Sitting in the bus, waiting for my stop, there was a man. I thought he looked weird. He was looking at me funny, and I was suspicious in a way an orphan 6-year-old shouldn't be. Unlike most 6-year-old girls, I had very good instincts. I knew when to run, when to stand and fight (which in my case, because of my age, was never), and I knew when to be cautious. This was one of those cautious times. I rang the bell over my head when my stop came up, and got off the bus. The man followed. I didn't realize what he intended, until he grabbed the back of my shirt, licking his lips.