Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters in this story. I am not selling this story for personal gain, so I hope to offend no one.

On the other hand, the story and the character not associated with Marvel are my own. Please refrain from using them without my express (meaning you asked me directly) permission.

I thank you for your attention and I will leave you to it.

Oh, and this is one of my first Fan Fictions. So I am new to this scene. Please review and tell me what you think. I also welcome any constructive criticism that you can give me. I wish to improve my writing, and I would be grateful to anyone who can help me achieve that.

Mutation through the eyes of the Mutated

I'll never forget the day I found out I was a Mutant. It is forever burned into my memory as one of the best, and most horrible, days of my life. Looking back now, sometimes I wonder how I survived. A young girl, who was so completely naive, slapped in the face with the cruelty and stupidity of this world. Thrown into a dimension of pain and fear unlike any you can imagine unless you've been through the same. I'd like to think I did well, considering. Thanks to the help of people who cared.

I am getting ahead of myself I know. It is probably best that I start at the beginning; or at least a bit closer to it.

Hello. My name is Cassandra McFaegan, and I'm a Mutant.

This is my story.

ACT I: The Stage Is Set

Chapter 1

The day my life changed, started out like any other day for me. I opened my eyes to a windowed view of a beautifully sunny morning. It had been raining for the past few days, (not an unusual occurrence in Texas at this time of year) but that only served to make the bright days all the more welcome. Whether it was the sun, the cool weather, or just the fact that it was not raining, I woke up in a really good mood. Some people might think that is not that strange, but trust me, for me it is. You see, since my family died, I've had a really hard time waking up; in any mood. Sometimes, I'd stay the whole day in bed, if it was a weekend. My aunt would never have tolerated my missing school for what she called "Useless moping and feeling sorry for yourself." or she'd say "You should be grateful that you are still alive." While that may be true, it's not something you should say to someone who is hurting.

Now, I'm not going to tell you some sob story about how my Aunt Gertrude was some type of evil stepmother, and that I was forced to clean the chimneys for a few scraps of bread; because it was not like that. I had my own room, three good meals a day, and though I did not have many things, I had enough to live on. But I was missing one thing that at the time I needed most, and that was love. I know it sounds corny and all, but when you are feeling alone, there is nothing that makes life seem better than someone to talk to.

After my aunt had taken me in, I moved with her to the other side of the state. Which means I had to change schools and that I'd moved away from my friends. Not that I had this HUGE gaggle of them back home, I had always been a bit of a loner, but I had my fair share and I hated leaving them.

Anyway, back to my story. I practically jumped out of bed that day, and I ran to my window. Just to make sure that the sunlight shining through my window shades was real and not a mean joke the rain was playing on me. I hate the rain with a capital H. I love being able to go outside without a coat on, and to feel the warm breezes on my bear arms. Even since I was little, I loved to stand outside in the middle of nowhere and just forget where I was.

I got dressed as quickly and silently as I could. It was about 6:30am and I did not want to wake up my aunt if she was still sleeping. I brushed my teeth and slipped into my shoes before tiptoeing down the stairs. I snuck through the kitchen to grab an apple and breakfast bar from the fridge. Then I left a post-it-note on the board my aunt has, telling her that I had left early and not to worry about driving me to school, that I'd walk.

I made my way to the front door and just then, I heard her start moving around upstairs. I jumped the last few feet, yanked open the door and closed it as quietly as a rushing person can. I practically flew down the drive and across the street. I did not stop running until I had turned the corner; where there was a small wooded area, and was out of sight of the house; there I stopped to catch my breath. I was bent over, hands on my knees, trying to stop gasping and to calm my pounding heart. So I almost did not notice that I felt a little funny. My body was a little tingly and my palms and neck stung a little bit. It was the strangest sensation that I had ever experienced. At first I thought I might be having a stroke or a heart attack, you know, something deadly. But this was not really painful as much as it was… well… I can't really explain it, ticklish maybe. I thought that those things were suppose to hurt.

Before I could dwell on it, it began to fade; slowly, as if it were just seeping out of my body. And then it was gone. I waited for a moment, wondering if it would come back. When it didn't, I figured that it was just a part of hyperventilating from the running. So, unlike a person who has two brain cells to rub together, I did not go home or call for help. I just started walking towards school again, taking my sweet time. I could have been dying and no one would have been looking for me for hours. Didn't I say I was naïve and stupid? Well here is clue number one to that fact.

I walked along for a few minutes, just enjoying the sunshine. I could see my school from where I was standing when I felt like something wasn't right. I looked up at the sky, confusion in my eyes. Wasn't the sun a little high for 6:45am? It only took 10-15 minutes to get here. I pulled my watch out of my pocket; I had not had time to put it on, and gasped. It was 7:57am. Over an hour since I had started out.

"This is insane!" I was a little surprised to hear my own voice. But it was insane. There was NO WAY on earth that it had taken me this long to get here. I thought back to the time I had spent walking. I calculated that and it came out right. So where had all that time gone?

Then I thought back to when I was trying to catch my breath. I had only stood there for a few seconds, a minute at most. It was impossible that I had been standing there for an hour. Wouldn't my back have started aching by 15 minutes into that? I stretched a little, flexing my muscles, and my back was a little sore. How could I not have noticed that! It was then that I heard the bell ring, I realized that I was going to be late, the third time this week too. Aunt Gertrude was going to skin me alive.

For the second time that day I was running, as hard and as fast as I could push my legs I ran into the school yard. There were a few stragglers ahead of me, so I figured I had a chance of getting there before they marked me late. No such luck. By the time I had made it to my locker and then to homeroom, they had already started. I thought I might be able to slip in without them seeing me. But with the way my luck was going, the teacher saw me as I stepped over the threshold. And then, if that weren't enough bad luck, it was not Ms. Diana our normal teacher, it was Mr. Lidding, the substitute. Ms. Diana might have let me off with a tardy slip but there was no way Mr. Lidding would.

And sure enough, he didn't.

"Ah, Miss McFaegan. How nice of you to join us for class today." his high pitched, nasal voice had always made my skin crawl, but for some reason, today it hurt my skin. Like just his talking was making my skin burn and my head hurt. I opened my mouth to make an excuse but he held up a hand to silence me. "I do not have any inclination to hear you speak Cassandra. Will you please take a seat? And when school is out, please report to the principal's office." He then turned back to his papers as if the sight of me was too much for him.

I resisted the urge to reach out and smack his balding head; see if that would change the sour expression that always covered his face. Instead, I contented myself with thoughts of him in a pink tutu dancing to an orchestra. A smile played at the corners of my mouth, and I used my hand to cover it up. I did not want him thinking that I was laughing at his ruling, or he would get me into even deeper trouble with Principal George. I sank into my desk amid the snickers and giggles from my fellow classmates. I ignored them, which is what I normally do, and opened my book; praying that this day would go by faster than normal.