Lukas Smith's life – I meet the mother of all the monsters p1

Dad has told me once that since I said my first word ever (père), I seem to be a genius. First of all, I learnt to speak my first language (French) after one week. Then, I spoke it fluently with a quite rich vocabulary without training much. When I was about three years old, I have noticed once that my dad couldn't understand even one single word of what I said. I couldn't find the differences till I realized that I wasn't speaking in French.
From that moment I understood that I learn to speak languages by thinking in them, as if I had a huge dictionary in my head, and till I finished learning each and every one, I couldn't control of what I've said. I spoke automatically in the specific language I learnt at the moment.
For example, when I learnt to speak Dutch (When I was seven years old, I think), I spoke a whole full month in Dutch only. I couldn't help it. It was a fact, and I couldn't control it.
Well, my childhood wasn't simple, as you might understand by yourself.
Since I was multilingual since I was born, and since I didn't have any mother, and since I was simply genius (And I'm totally serious, by the way. No arrogance.), I was quite hated among my classmates.
I was the nerd who was the source of everybody's homework when they were too lazy to do them. It's not that I actually did them. I was just solving them on the spot when they asked for it, and let them write it in their notebooks. I was free of writing for them just because I was dyslexic, and I still am.
Things began to be messy and weird around age eleven.
I learnt at a school in Paris, not so far away from my old house.
I was sitting at the back of the classroom, busy doing nothing.
I was quite bored in each and every lesson there was, since the materials were divided into two main groups: things that do not interest me, and things I know.
Math came to me as breathing. It was kind of a joke that I was built not with atoms of carbons but numbers. Listen, it's not that I actually love math. I do enjoy solving the problems, but it's only because I was extremely good at it. That's all, nothing beyond or more complicated than that.
So, it was a fine May morning. I'm quite sure it was the 14th, though it really doesn't matter. I was going to school as usual.
My dad wasn't at home to say goodbye since he already left for his stupid shop he managed. You see, he was the manager of a successful store of electricity devices such as television sets, computers, et cetera. He never seems to have time for me despite I was his only son.
On that morning, I went to the metro station not so far of home. I was used to it. Just going there, buying the usual ticket, maybe even talking to the ticket seller who was always interested in my life. She was quite tall and had a nice smile, a one of the kind that shows that the smile was real and not just any smile that a woman who works with people got to smile to make them feel more comfortable.
I was on my way when things went wrong.
I was used to hear strange noises around me, but I've never heard such noise before in my entire life, some kind of hissing, as if a huge snake was hiding somewhere nearby.
I turned around but no one was there.
Strange, but I decided that it's probably nothing that I should actually pay attention for.
I kept on walking, trying to imagine something nice. I started by thinking of the exam time that was getting closer with every day that passed. I wasn't afraid of that. I knew all needed. I even got ignoring out of my misspelling words, and because my hand-write was so terrible, I even got the right to have someone who writes whatever I tell him to write.
Because this thought still didn't help me, I was re-thinking of the math contest soon. I had no doubt I will excel it and be the winner with the golden medal. I didn't care much that I was younger than most of the contesters. I was the smartest. No doubt about that. I was considered as the most intelligent pupil at school, even though I was blond, and for reasons I cannot understand, blond people were considered as morons.
Since my first day at school, I wished I'd were a taller guy with black hair, maybe a little more curly than the silk-smooth hair I've got. I wasn't the shortest at class, but still, sometimes I was underestimated because I didn't look too muscular, therefore I was a nice prey for insolents from bullies who must have been very envy at me.
On that day, after thinking of the contest ahead, all I could've done was buying the ticket and sitting on the bench, waiting for my station.
"Soon," said a soft voice inside of my ears.
I looked around me.
People were as busy as they always have been, but no one seems to be talking to me.
I looked at all of those people, but none of them was even looking at me. They were just there.
"Soon it'll be your time" the voice said again. This time, I was convinced it was a female voice, and it was way too loud to be remote of me. It must've been someone close to me, but I was the only one in the bench where I sat.
It was only one of many weird things that happened that day, but it wasn't the most exciting.
I put the headphones inside of my ears, and I was prepared for a long and boring ride. Well, at least I wished it was as boring as it should have been.
Just as I closed my eyes, I felt this strange feeling when you're being watched. I sat up in my chair, looking at both sides of me. The view out of the window pane was underground-looking as it should've been, but when I looked to my left, I saw an old lady with a bag looking at me.