14 years ago, on September 12, I was “born” as the worlds first living, organic, computer. The scientists made me so I could hack into any computer system, even military strength ones, effortlessly. I can also access the Internet with a simple thought, and coding and decoding are as simple as blinking for me. They say I’m a weapon. I don’t believe so. But one thing I’ll never understand is why my so-called parents force me to go to a normal school. If I am really so special, shouldn’t I be somewhere safer? But they told me they wanted me to live as normal of a life as possible. Right. Normal. I thought that middle school and elementary were terrible times, and then I had my first day of high school. I have always been teased for my name, Ordi. It’s a short version of the French word for computer. With my short stature and electrifying green eyes (a mistake,) people call un-Ordi-nary. I have to live in a house with the two scientists who helped to create me, and I call them mum and dad. My mum comes into my room, pestering me to get dressed. “Hurry up, Ordi,” she says. “Today is your robotics competition.” At that, I jump out of bed and put my homemade binary shirt on that reads, “You are a noob” in binary. Robotics is my favorite class. My teacher selected me friend, Atari (another geeky name) and I to go to the state robotics competition with our robot, Atad. I run down the stairs grab an energy bar, and run out the door with a quick goodbye to my parents. When I get onto the street, Atari is waiting for me. Atari and I have been best friends since first grade. He is my only friend. We became friends after he stood up for me after I was bullied by saying “Well, I think she’s extra-Ordi-nary.” After I the bullies left and I murmured thank you, he showed me the robot he made and let me control it. That’s how I got into robotics. “Good morning, Ordi.” He says with a smile, his blue eyes flashing. “I brought Atad.” He gestures to our robot, covered up and sitting in a wagon. “Good,” I say, and we start walking to school. So when do we get to leave to go to the competition?” I say, unwrapping my energy bar. “An hour after school starts. Then my mom is picking us up and driving us there.” We walk in silence for the rest of the walk to school. We walk up the steps just as the bell rings, and bolt to our first class, algebra 2. For a freshman, he is pretty smart. We walk in just as the teacher finishes attendance. “Atari, Ordi, thanks so much for joining us.” “Sorry, we had to get the robot here safely,” Atari says with a straight face. “Why don’t you show us then,” “Okay!” he says, and with a flourish, pulls off the cover, revealing the sleek, chrome piece of machinery we put so much time and effort into. “Would you like a demonstration?” I say? Most of the class responds eagerly. Atari and I set the robot on the floor and I pick up the controller. Atad’s eyes blink to life. He looks a lot like the bomb squad robot that visited the robotics club last year. “What is it supposed to do?” A student asks. “Well,” Atari replies, “It has to drive through an obstacle course, pick up an egg without breaking it, and race other robotics teams. Today is the competition.” I drive Atad around the desks, and make it stop when I see the teachers face. “If we could continue,” he says. Atari and quietly turn Atad off and put him back in the wagon and go to our seats. I barely hear the teacher talking; I am so excited. The minutes slowly tick by. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Connor, the brute who has always picked on me, walk by Atari’s desk with an open water bottle. Before I can yell at him to stop, he pretends to trip, sloshing water all over Atad.