I shouldn’t be here. No one my age really should and I know that but I also know I have no voice to stop it. I may speak but I am never heard on important matters. They refuse to believe I know what is best, for me. I do not own my body and I do not own my mind. I do not know what I own but then again what twelve-year-old owns anything other than dolls or a pair of fairy wings.

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      I stand in the front, staring at the lecture as it slowly fills

with people twice my age. My hands play with the soft pink frills of my dress, squeezing and un-squeezing; mother speaks of it as anxiety. My shoes buckle across the top of my white tights, there is a scuff on the right toe, and they stand out amongst the tiled floor. Trying to remember my introduction, would I have to speak to them? No one believes me; no one here wants me to be.

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                Is it the teacher’s child? I over hear the whispers of the students. Maybe she is lost? Another guess. Maybe part of the lesson, they don’t want to wonder with their assumptions very well. My eyes scan the crowd again, only my seat is left.

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                “Good morning class,” the teacher quiets the whispers. He places a hand on my shoulder, pushing me forward lightly as if to present me. “As you can see we have a very special student joining us, why don’t you introduce yourself darling.”

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                Darling? I can feel my face contort to disgust. I shake it off before I turn my attention back to the adults. “My name is Florence,” my tone is sharp, to emphasize my name though it makes no difference. There is nothing much to say, I do not need an introduction.

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                “As some of you have read Florence Duvier is a mind to behold, yes the very child genius you all have surely read about or at least glimpsed in the news,” the teacher explained. His voice was excited as if I was some lost treasure found at last, as if I was some break through.

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                I am not a treasure and I am not a break through, I am only a glorified science experiment. I keep quiet as I scurry to my seat, my feet can’t even touch the ground. The notes on the board are wrong, I have a feeling I really am not going to enjoy this man’s lectures with inaccurate logic.