They Call Her Special

I suddenly opened my eyes.
I woke up to the cat next door meowing, and scratching at the door to get inside. My room was dead silent, I slowly rubbed my eyes and gently pushed the blankets off of my cold body.
I pushed the hair away from my face and slowly took those few steps to my window. I looked through the blinds, then opened them, making a screeching noise echo throughout my room.
I shivered and searched through the sky for the moon. What the hell, it's only six am. I rubbed my eyes again and sighed.
I shook my head while I rubbed my arms with my cold hands. “Back to bed.” I whispered to myself just before I yawned.
“What are you doing up?”
It was my Mothers voice, only a whisper, but that's all it took for me to hear her across the house with both of our doors closed. It was part of the gift. I would eventually be able to hear thoughts, but Father said I wasn't old enough to be capable of that just yet.
“Neighbors cat again.” I mumbled as I attempted to get comfortable in bed again. She didn't respond.
I pulled the blankets up to my chin and pulled the bottom pillow closer to my neck, that's the way I get comfortable. My Mother told me that I slept awkwardly, none of her other kids had slept like that.
Even though the amount of sleep I got didn't effect me the way it did to normal humans, I still tried to sleep as much as I could. My parents slept all through the night, so I figured it was a good thing to do.
I never went to sleep overs. I was never invited to them, nor anything else. I didn't exactly have friends. People would wave in the hallways, occasionally say “Good morning,” but that didn't mean I was their friend. I sat alone at lunch, wishing so badly that Father would let me hear their thoughts.
Father said it didn't matter if I made friends right away, that I would have all the time in the world to eventually be making friends.
I rolled over in bed, pulling my sheets with me. I fixed my pillow about five times before getting the least bit comfortable again. I blinked and took another deep breath.
Once again, I knew I wouldn't sleep well.
Many nights I laid in bed the same way I was then, staring at the ceiling, wondering why there were so many secrets. When would I eventually be told. Sometimes I even felt that other people in the community knew more about me then I did myself.
I look just like the “normal” humans, even though I act differently. I keep to myself a lot, no one to talk to. One time, last year, I had a boy walk up to me in the school hallway and say flat out. “You're weird.”
I just stared at him, wanting so badly to make the ceiling give out and kill him immediately.
I almost never show emotion in my face, my parents are the only people who truly get me, know how I'm feeling, know who I truly am.
But, what I didn't know was... I would soon find someone who knew me even better.