DISCLAIMER: All characters mentioned below are the property of

Marvel Comics. I am simply using them for fun (ie, no profit is being made from this).

NOTE: This story takes place after the events on Generation X #29 and diverges from continuity there.

Broken Dreams

ByChris Votulle, July


Dear Diary,

Hello. I know I haven't written for a long time now and I'm sorry. I don't mean

to neglect you, but you just wouldn't believe all of the things that have been

happening to me lately. I think you would understand my neglect if you knew.

But, then again, you would know if I hadn't neglected you. This is starting to make

very little sense. It just goes to show that I shouldn't try to write at three

o'clock in the morning. I mean, I usually consider myself a morning person, but

when you've stayed up all night I guess it isn't really considered morning.

Just really late at night. Like, as in the late late late late show. Please ignore the

sentence fragments. I'm too tired to care anymore.

Where was I? I don't know. Was I anywhere, really? That's a good question.

Where exactly am I headed with my life? I've been so busy chasing shadows that

I've never bothered to look at the light. I've sacrificed my life for the dream. Or so

I thought. The funny thing is that I never really thought about the dream and what

exactly it stood for. The dream. How ominous that sounds. My dream was to simply

outdo my brother. It didn't matter how. It didn't matter why, as long as I

did it. But why did I do it? Am I so insecure that I need to outshine my big brother

in order to feel complete? Or am I just over-ambitious? Over confident is

more like it. Oh sure, I'm extremely hard on myself and I'm the last to acknowledge when

I've excelled in something, but in real life situations I'm extremely self-centered. I

automatically assume that everyone needs me to take charge. What made me ever think that

I was fit to be a leader? Why did everyone let me go on believing it? My whole

life is built on false hopes and unfulfilled dreams -- including the big one.

Even if I didn't truly embrace it at the time. I now

know what the dream is all about and I've failed it miserably. We all have.

Mutants and humans living together. In peace. We couldn't even manage it in one

household. What with Joelle going off to join the FoH and Sam fighting evil or whatever

with his precious X-Men. Two complete opposites of the spectrum, with every other

kind of chaos in between. And Ma wondered why I wanted to leave so desperately. I was

stupid enough to think that it would be better somewhere else. That goes to show how little

I really know, doesn't it? Here I am in a school for 'Gifted Youngsters' where we're

supposed to be taught how to achieve this dream of peace and yet our most important lessons

involve learning how to fight effectively by mastering our powers. I can't imagine why

this didn't disturb me at the onset. I guess I was just too absorbed with myself once again. I

didn't care what I was doing as I long as I was the best. If I admit that I'm not the

best now, cam I change it all back? No. Dammit, no. Nothing ever changes.

I finally understand that.

Maybe it would help if I just got down to what was really bothering me. That's what

I intended to do, but setting it down on paper makes it all a little too real for

me. It started in Los Angeles, when Zero Tolerance finally caught up with us. In

case you don't know, Operation: Zero Tolerance is basically humanity's way of taking

the dream and standing it on it's head. No, make that kicking it out the door.

Squashing it under it's heel. I'm rambling. To make it short, people decided that

they hated mutants and that they weren't going to tolerate them anymore so they

were going to kill them all. Complete and total genocide. Could the dream

have failed any more completely? Could we possibly be any further from achieving peace?

I don't think so.

Where did we go wrong? I can't answer that, but I suppose that I know where I

went wrong. We were on the run from those Nimrod things. That Tores girl who was friends with Angleo

managed to hide us somehow, but we all knew that we couldn't hide forever.

Everyone seemed lost without our mentors to guide us so I assumed control.

After all, I was going to be the leader of the X-Men one day. Not anymore I'm not.

Anyway, normally Jono or M would have protested my take-charge attitude, but we were

all so distraught I think they welcomed the chance to have the burden placed on someone

else's shoulders. We waited until dark and then decided to make a run for it. Tores

said that she knew where we could get some wheels so we could head back to Snow Valley or

even New Salem. Actually, I was just concerned about getting out of Los Angeles at

the time. We didn't even make it ten feet though. Those damn Sentinels were

just waiting for us. I should have seen it coming. Some leader I was! I guess

we relied on M's telepathy to tell us if something was amiss for so long that we

overlooked the fact that Nimrods aren't alive. Not really, anyway. I don't really

remember what happened. I just remember waking up among a mass of dead bodies, and

they were all people I knew. Next to me was Jono, Ev, Ange, and M. A little ways away

I could see Jubes and Mr. Cassidy. But that wasn't all. Mr. And Mrs. Summers were there,

and with them was Sam. Oh God, I just took it for granted for so long that Sam couldn't die.

When you brother is immortal his death tends to hit you very hard.

There was no doubt that he was dead though. The monsters must have known that he was an

external because they removed his head from his body. Here was the boy -- no, the

man whom I had been chasing after my entire life. I wanted so much to be like him.

He was my idol, my protector, at one time my best friend. And now he's dead.

They're all dead. Except for me.

Why am I alive? It's simple really. I suppose that Sam wasn't the only external in the

family. They mustn't have known that or else my head would surely be gone too.

I wish it was. What's left for me now? A life on the run? A life that never

ends and no one to share it with? I don't even have the luxury of committing suicide.

Maybe I'll turn myself in and hope they kill me quickly. Hope they can kill me.

It's funny, Sam's dead now and I still envy him. Nothing ever changes. Nothing ever will.