Disclaimer: Don't own X-Men: Evolution. Uhm, I was in a really hyperactive mood when I thought up the idea for this and figured good old Pietro could relate. Enjoy and review.
Inertia. It's a funny word, really. It has to do with physics. Bodies that aren't in motion stay that way till something makes them move. There's a second part to the rule though. Things that are in motion stay that way till something stops them. That's the important part for me. We learned about it in science. I tuned out the teacher. Blah, blah, blah, science talk, yadda, yadda. I had other things on my mind like the hot blonde a few rows up from me. She was already taken of course but masters such as I do so love challenges.
That seems like a lifetime ago but in real-time it was probably only a few months. That's the problem with having an internal clock that's hotwired to function at light speed. One minute can seem like an hour to me, a full twenty-four hours an entire week. What I perceive as a long time ago could be only an actual week ago. It's unnerving that I have literally all the time in the world but I can't sit back and enjoy it.
I contemplate all this while channel surfing. My fingers restlessly jam the button at a speed incomprehensible to most but to me it feels like a normal pace. The TV must be schizophrenic by now. It has yet to stay on one channel for more than a millisecond of real-time. Just like me it can't slow down. Just like me, some unknown force compels it to keep moving.
My mind works even faster as I assess the programming. Music videos, weather, baseball, rerun of Buffy, more music videos, crappy movie, golf, reality show, crap, crap, more crap. Eventually I zone out. I do this sometimes, just get lost in my motion. My body demands constant activity and there aren't enough things in existence to keep it satisfied. 'When you live as fast as I do there aren't enough things to occupy your time.' I had said that to Daniels. For once I was actually honest.
I let the TV take a break and go into the kitchen. I start making a sandwich even though I'm not hungry. Why? Because I need something to do. It's the motion I need, the activity, the movement, the energy. It's that inertia thing again. Once I'm in motion I can't stop moving. I finish in what seems to me an hour but what is most likely a real-time minute. Why stop with one? Why not make another, make five, make a dozen? Why not make enough to fill the entire house? I start another one and, as usual, my pace starts to quicken. My body's getting warmed up now and it begs me to push it further.
Everyone always tells me to slow down. They don't know how lucky they are. They don't know how it feels to be constantly restless, nervous, agitated. They're lucky they can sit still without feeling like they're going to explode. Sometimes I actually try to do that, sit still. I can't last more than a second before I start drumming my fingers or twiddling my thumbs or tapping my foot or doing something. I stare down at the counter. I count about a dozen sandwiches. I sigh and walk back into the living room. Freddy will eat them; he eats everything. Back to the TV again.
Back in the day, when I actually had a sister, things didn't used to be this way. There was always something to do, always some game we could play. I remember how it used to be, it seems like ancient history now. We'd run around the house like maniacs, always chasing each other or wrestling. We'd play outside all day sometimes or we'd beg Dad to take us to the park. I was never bored.
Then Wanda started breaking stuff and Dad made her go away. I'm surprised he didn't send us both to the nuthouse. Maybe he couldn't get a sibling discount or something. Sometimes I think it would be kinda fun. I could just be in one of those padded rooms and bounce off the walls until I killed myself. They'd never be able to calm me down. I can shake off sedatives quicker than anyone. I'd wear out the floor from pacing. That's what I do sometimes. I just walk around the house. My feet get used to moving and they can't stop so I just wander and think.
Where was I? Oh yeah, I remember. That happens sometimes too. I think so many thoughts at one time that I can't remember where I started. Anyways, after Wanda left there was no one to play with. Dad was always too busy with work. That's when my power really kicked in and I couldn't sit still. I remember I used to lie in bed at night, forcing myself to be still. I couldn't do it. I'd get up and go into the library and read every book twice before I was exhausted enough to sleep.
Sometimes I'd just start crying because I couldn't stop moving. Worst of all I couldn't cry in front of Father and without Wanda I had to just go in my room and cry by myself. Used to when I felt this way Wanda could always zap me with her powers and slow me down. That was such a relief, to actually feel a minute as a minute. It would never last very long and she would always get sad because she couldn't help me more but I'd tell her it was okay. When she was gone I lost my safety valve. I think I almost went crazy.
I stop moving for a little bit and look around. I'm still in the house thankfully. Sometimes I'll wander right out the door and find myself in another city by the time I'm done thinking.
Things are different now. I've gotten a little better at stopping myself. I can actually lie in bed at night and make my brain shut up enough to go to sleep. Sometimes though I can't so I read everything I can find. Usually I borrow some of sis's books since she's really the only one who reads much. I think I can recite everything Edgar Allen Poe ever wrote just from memory. She's a big fan of Poe. Sometimes I'll read Lance's car magazines and if I'm really desperate I'll read the dictionary or the phone book. Did you know there are twenty people named Mr. Jones living in Bayville? I wonder if they're all related?
It was during reading the dictionary one night that I found inertia long before we learned about it in science class. I read it over and over before I realized that's what my entire life had been. I'm a body in motion and I'll keep being in motion till I die. I used to wonder if my body aged or matured at an accelerated rate too. That would be cool. I would look old enough to buy beer when I would only be a freshman in high school. I could claim social security by the time I needed to get my first job. Sadly, that's not the case.
Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I could slow down, if I could stop and take a look around. I think I would end up mentally collapsing. I'd see how screwed up everything's gotten. I'd see how badly my sister's been hurt. I'd see what a horrible man Father is. I'd see how this is all my fault.
I'm not going to think about that. Nope, I'm just going to give it the old blind eye. I'm just going to block out that little nagging voice that says I've failed everyone. Yep, I'm just gonna keep going, one foot in front of the other. Maybe I'm the lucky one. Maybe not being able to slow down is a good thing for me. As bad as being in a state of constant motion is it's a lot better than sitting around going crazy by forcing myself to examine my life. Maybe the best place is in the middle between motion and rest. I don't know but I do know I can't think about it. Not when there's so much time and very little to keep me busy, to keep me moving.