Mutant High

Disclaimer: I hate to say this, but none of these characters are mine except for the few that I added in myself. No lawsuits, please, I borrowed some of the characters from Marvel and all those other wonderful people who made me wish I lived in their world.

Authors Note: This story takes place in between the second and first movie, before Logan goes to Alkali Lake and after the Statue of Liberty is over. Logan is back and regaining strength, after all, they never say how much time had passed. . .

Chapter 1
I had nowhere else to go, no one else I could turn to. I'd heard a couple of people making fun of the place, but to me it was salvation. Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children was the name and it was rumored to harbor other people like me.

My parents had turned me out afraid of my newly discovered abilities. I assured them that I wasn't dangerous and that I could stop all the... accidents, but they didn't believe me. My sister hated me for it; I ruined her life she said. Mom would cry just from looking at me, and dad couldn't even stand to do that. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to be.

Charles Xavier, at least that's what I think his name is, could help me. That is, if he even would consider it. What if there were some kind of test I'd have to pass? If I failed where would I go? There weren't any other people who would take me in! Even my so-called friends wouldn't talk to me. I didn't want to cause anyone any more trouble so I decided to go to the Institute.

Even if they turned me away, at least I could say that I tried, right? I took all the money I had, as well as the bankcard I could overdraw if necessary.

I left my parents a message and put it on the table. Someone will see it when they come back. Will they care, or will they be glad that I'm finally gone?

I had finally decided to take two bags. The bigger bag I carried clothes in and the smaller one I put odds and ends into. Anything that I thought I'd need, I took. The things that I had no use for... well, hopefully I could come back and claim them one day.

Thanks to Christmas and birthday money I had over five hundred dollars in my wallet, but to get all the way to Westchester, NY? I was in New Jersey; the money would definitely last until then. I checked the bus schedule to get me as close to New York as possible, then from there I would try and get a ride. I could take the subway, maybe, or a train? I'd figure it out there.

As I went down the stairs for the last time, the family portrait caught my eye. Yes, portrait. My parents are sort-of old fashioned, conservative people say now. My mother had hoped I'd become a lady, you know, the kind that knows how to sew and set tables, host parties and things like that. I was considered a disappointment. They had been wary of the music I listened to, they tried to forbid me from wearing the clothes I bought when I skipped school, and I'd been categorized as unmanageable shortly thereafter.

It all started about a month ago. I woke up and while I was slicing a bagel for breakfast I accidentally cut myself with the knife. I reached for the paper-towels because it was a pretty deep cut, but, surprisingly, it wasn't bleeding! A thick green gel was covering the cut preventing the blood from seeping out. I stared at it, I mean really, I was freaked and a little nervous.

In about ten minutes the wound was gone except for a small green line that stayed where the cut had been. That wouldn't have been so bad had it not been forthe emerald-colored globe of fire that appeared in my palm as well. Now that scared me, I didn't know what to do with it. I expected it to burn me, to at least feel hot, but it didn't.

I couldn't very well drop it in the house so I took it outside and threw it. It hit a flower straight on and with a small 'boom' the flower, and some of its friends, weren't there anymore.

I sank to my knees on the grass hardly daring to believe this was happening. This was just like something I read about in books. The hero and villain having special powers and ruling over kingdoms, I'd always wanted to be one of them.

I didn't even know how the green flame had gotten there. I tried to conjure another one, but nothing happened and the green line was gone. I concentrated, focused, tried opening the wound, nothing happened. The wound healed, but no fire.

What the hell, I figured, I couldn't stay home all day. The school would call, again, and the parents would flip out, also, again.

I went to school and everything was fine until the end of the day. I had gym and we were playing soccer. I was the goalie and when I went to block the ball I missed and the ball hit my elbow dead on. Some of the guys playing were in the school's soccer team, I hated sports, but the teacher wouldn't write me a pass to the library anymore. Opting for goalie seemed the best option, stand there, watch as my team kept the ball away from me, keep it from entering the net. Not so hard, right? Ha.

Anyway, it hurt like hell, but my team was exuberant because it had still counted as a save. I stared at the clock, twenty minutes left. Some of the dread and tension left my stomach, I could survive for twenty more minutes. I'd already made it through thirty...

It was then I noticed the odd green shadow forming on my elbow. The pain stopped and I felt the power rush through my veins. It was an itching sort of feeling, my hands shook. I thought back to the events of that morning. The flame had appeared after the wound. I forced myself to calm down and think of something else. The anger faded slowly and with it the heated feeling in the center of my hand.

I barely paid attention for the remainder of the period. The fire had manifested after I hurt myself, anger seemed to fuel it, by staying calm would I be able to interrupt the process?

The teacher blew the whistle and we all went in to change. I had a theory, it wasn't a very good one, nor had it been tested, but it was something, at least.

Over the next couple of weeks it proved to be not quite as easy as I had expected. I'm not known for being one of the calmest people in the world. When I think about something it invariably becomes said. I speak my mind, and when someone gets me angry... not a good thing.

I had to fight the anger down and that's almost impossible for me to do. I lost control a few times and ended up throwing the flames into a nearby garbage can. No one suspected anything, though, and teachers never really looked my way.

I was the quiet one, the girl who read books in the library at lunchtime. I cut classes, roamed the neighborhood, wrote stories on benches, anything not to be in school. The high-school was absurd, gangs controlled the hallways, fire-alarms were pulled so fights could be initiated. I had been shoved up against the lockers more times than I wanted to remember.

Coming from a relatively tame middle-school, I hadn't been prepared for what high-school had to offer. Trash-talking, tough, thugs who wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if you looked them in the eye for too long. I acclimated, instead of apologizing and backing down I fought back. I won some, I lost some, but I made it known that they couldn't push me around without some sort of retribution.

And that brings me to the predicament at hand. I was learning to control the anger, but in the meantime all the rage was building inside of me and threatening to explode. My patience was hanging on by a thread and everything was just under the surface.

I kept my head down, barricaded myself in the school's libraries, skipped entire days of school to keep from killing someone. I hated the neighborhood, I would graduate for my parents and then be off to places unexplored. No college for me, Europe called, the rest of the United States called, I wanted to see those places, to write about them. I needed to find intelligent people with whom to converse, people who could teach me new languages, show me through ancient cultures.

I read about ancient Greece, the warriors, Troy, Sparta, Macedonia. I studied Alexander, Ptolemy, Sophocles and Euripides. I didn't belong in this school where Shakespeare was beyond people's comprehension. Shakespeare? What about Chaucer and Old English?

The last day I went to school was memorable, you could say I went out with a bang... ill-attempted bit of humor there, I apologize. A friend of mine had found me, she was crying, wanted me to help her. I protected my friends, started fights with people who had hurt them, this time was no different.

It was a girl, she was crying, someone had to pay. And, yes, before anyone says anything, I'm female, but that doesn't mean one can't be... chivalrous, does it? I was raised to be proper by my mother, but my father had wanted a son. So, under his supervision, I was ingrained with the 'guy code.' Protect girls, never hit them, watch out for them, be respectful, that sort of thing. I wasn't lesbian, but for the girl friends that I had, I, basically, treated them as if I were their guy friend. None of them seemed to mind, they found me when they had a problem and I made it go away.

I found the guy who had verbally abused her, tried to take advantage of her and threw him into the lockers. He got a few good hits in, but when I punched him in the stomach he went down. As he fell his head hit the upraised part of the lockers and he started bleeding. Oops. I probably should have stopped then, but he'd have gotten up. I kicked him in the ribs to prevent that and he stayed down. Point for me.

The principal was called and my parents were brought in. They, of course, didn't know what to do about it. I could have told them that, this school never knows what to do about anything. He was alive, breathing, unfortunately, the school marked it down as self-defense and I was suspended for a month.

It was the same fate as everyone else, a month suspension, scary. I'd seen guys left for dead in the middle of the street because of gang politics. Month suspension for them, too, and they used knives and carried guns. Nice differentiation, huh?

I checked the Internet for anything about 'mutants.' There were quite a few articles, none of them very favorable. There was a law they were trying to pass that would make all mutants come forward and reveal themselves. It was called Mutant Registration, I was reminded of World War II. Would the world allow that to happen again? They would come for us, people would start to disappear, we'd be forced to live together in order to protect the normal humans. Would they then eradicate our existence?

There was a small news article about a man named Xavier and his work against such a law, he ran a small school for gifted children. Anyone that was interested could contact him and join his cause. I wrote the address down, I didn't have time to wait for a response, I'd go see him in person and convince him to let me board.

I'd worry about the boarding fee later, I could always try to get a bank loan, I had pretty good credit. And, if the cost was astronomical, I had enough money for a ticket to Europe. I'd get a job there, start writing, either option was fine by me. As I said before, anywhere but here.