mirela swanson-ellory. d3. fin.

A prodigy with problems, her teacher always said. Intelligent, but mischievous. Well-rounded, but troubled. A problem child in the making, as if it was her own fault for having trauma. Was she supposed to apologize for it? Sorry that my whole family died in a freak accident while I was at daycare. I'll stop using science as my outlet for emotional issues now!

It didn't take a genius like Mirela to figure out how improbable that was. Self-awareness doesn't always equal a cure, and she was quite aware that her mind leaned toward the odd side of the spectrum.

Repression was a convenient way to shut them out. Easier said than done; they died when she was four, and she was old enough to recall vivid memories at that age. If you ask her, she won't talk about them. Her mother, her father, her sister - all with factory jobs, all burned to a crisp in the same explosion. The only thing she cherishes is one piece of advice her mother gave her: "Never be ashamed of your mind." That one statement was the motivation behind her pursuit of engineering. It was the reason she kept the Swanson name even after she was adopted. How could she erase the woman behind it? At the very least, she deserved credit.

A particular soul took pity on her after her family died. The schoolteacher - generous and ill-equipped - agreed to take her in and raise her as her own. At first, Mirela didn't understand why she was living in a new house without her family. Where did they go? Why won't they come back from her? The teacher, Miss Fitz, assumed she would be unable to grasp the concept of death. An accident was what she called it. An accident took her parents away, and 'accidents are bad'. When Mirela was older, Miss Fitz used her failures as an example.

"Remember the time you electrocuted yourself?"

Screwdrivers to the wall, Mirela had removed the panel from the outlets so she could play with the wires inside. She needed a charge for her new invention, but didn't quite understand how risky it was. She remembered the snap of pain in her muscles and the static dancing in her vision. "That's what an accident is. You didn't mean to do it, right?"

The logic didn't hold. Mirela had caused her own pain. Her parents' were the victims of somebody else's negligence. It wasn't the same, but Mirela learned to nod her head and go along with what less intelligent adults said to her. It was easier to deal with them if they didn't argue.

Adjusting to authority was a learning curve. Mirela had a tendency to do everything without asking. Taking Miss Fitz' electronics apart, rewiring rooms of the house, looting junkyards to find parts for her inventions. She didn't see the harm in any of it, yet Miss Fitz reacted wildly each time she caught Mirela with wires in her bed. Apparently, she was supposed to feel bad about 'stealing' and 'destroying property'. You can't steal junk! And you can't break something that you know how to put back together! It wasn't like she couldn't fix the electronics, she just didn't want to.

She tried to remedy their relationship by building her a computer from scratch. Naturally, Miss Fitz' was shocked at the talent of a mere child; "How do you know how to do that? Where did you learn all of this? It wasn't from me!"

Mirela simply shrugged. She had a natural talent. If Miss Fitz wanted to hate it, so be it. Like mom said, never be ashamed of my mind.

That talent captured the attention of a particular family: the Ellorys. Notorious for their mechanical skills and trap-making for the capitol, which drew up a deadly reputation. Mirela knew she belonged in their home the moment she met them. Their love for science, their appreciation for unique engineering - finally a place where her work could be explored freely, where her risky inventions would not be spat on or criticized. Finally, she could be a weirdo in peace!

She didn't care that she was one of many kids to be adopted. Whether she was a number to them, a filler sibling, she didn't care - if she could flex her skills, she was happy. Freedom to create whatever she wanted was everything she could've asked for. The sky is the limit! Or death is the limit, if she continued to electrocute herself on accident. It happens, okay?

She also didn't care that she was the oddball at school. Sitting in the back of the classroom, memorizing everything on the board with little effort - if people didn't like that, oh well. Social circles were unnecessarily complicated anyway. She was supposed to dress and act a certain way to impress people? Yawn. Friends appreciated superior intellect and quirky inventions. Everyone else could leave.

At the end of the day, she was the only person she was required to care about.