Author's Note: (this is the character intro.) Mary is seventeen. She is about 5, 4 and has black hair that goes down to her shoulder blades, cornflower blue eyes and a pale complexion. She lives in the upper east side of New York, which makes labeling that much harder. She has the average body type, not too skinny but not overweight. She loves music and is quite intelligent.
Okaym so those who are reading this, this story is CRAP... It was my first written on here, and I haven't really made an effort to rewrite of edit it much... :P and I am not planning on it either... sorry. I understand that this is a complete Mary-Sue. But the character's name is followed after a relative/friend, who had the same name as me lol...But please give my other writings a chance, even though you may think this is crap (which it is)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel Comic related characters. *sigh* wish I did though. (:
My legs were crossed over each other, I took deep breath, trying to meditate and failing. Listening to my older sister, Lisa, and my little brother, Cory, fight again. Sometimes it's just unbearable in this tiny three-bedroom apartment right off Broadway ST. Yes, Broadway was for people with bucks, somehow our family managed the payment on one of the bottom feeder apartments. Most of the time, it wasn't so bad; if I got really annoyed I could always just walk to central park and hang out. I don't have any friends here, I just moved from Alabama about three months ago and that hadn't left much room for adjustment. Looking out the second story window, you can't see much because of the hazy smog. When I heard the front door open and my dad, Carson, jumped on them about fighting. I was able to pick up my pencil and start on algebra again. When I was sure I couldn't take anymore of X equals E times D plus C, I stood up and went to take a shower. The warm water ran down my skin and relaxed my shoulders; I massaged some of my coconut shampoo into my hair. Nowadays I loved the smell of tanning oil, or coconut. I missed being so close to the beach. Getting out of the shower, I grabbed a fluffy white towel around me and stepped into the hallway.
Thankfully, I had my own room, Lisa didn't live with us anymore, and she just visited from college every now and again. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a Las Vegas t-shirt and snuggled into the sheets, flicking off my desk lamp. Tomorrow should be another of those uneventful-nobody- notices- me-days. Great, I felt better already.
The checked shoelaces on my high-top black converse did not want to cooperate that morning and it took me longer than usual to get down stairs to down a glass of milk and jump on the bus. Being that no one cared enough to talk, or even sit by me on the bus I just got my black I-pod touch out and listened to the music till the bus pulled into the parking lot. James Wood High, I am so glad I'm leaving this place next year. I just shuffled through the halls to my locker and then to first block, which I had biology for.
"Today class turn your books to page 327 so we can begin work on the human body!" said Mr. Sims. Some groans and complaints were heard around the room but I was not one of them. The morning was going great so far until Eric, the bully, began throwing paper balls at my head. I was so angry, pissed doesn't cover it. But all of my hard feeling dissolved when I stepped into the band room. "Hi, Mr. Lepa" I yelled across the noise of instruments warming up.
"Morning, Mary" yeah, so the teacher knew me by name, so what? After band was over, I moved through the day without an interruption, it kind of passed by in a blur. Walking to the bus lot, I thought about my job and saving up money to buy a 1996 Harley Sprint, when I decided I wanted to walk today. It really wasn't that bad, the school was on 57th Street, not a far ways down from our apartment. As I was turning to leave, someone snagged my shoulder strap of my purse and that made me drop my books.
"Sorry, Clumsy me" said a sarcastic voice, I knew right away it was Eric. Then he just walked off,
"Thanks for helping me pick these up!" I yelled after his retreating figure with it's stupid honey blond hair. I had just started off down the street when a car pulled up beside me and the driver said,
"Need a lift?" I recognized Eric again.
"What, do you have to fuck up my life more today?" I shot at him letting some acid leak into my voice.
"Touchy, touchy, just wondering if you want to walk another quarter mile to your apartment, or if you would like a ride instead." He shot back.
"Nah, I think I'll walk." I said somewhat sarcastically.
"Fine, be that way bitch."
"What did you just call me?" I could feel my face starting to heat up.
"Bitch, oh sorry do you prefer whore more?" just then I let rage take completely over me.
"I'll show you who's a whore!" just then without realizing it I grabbed onto the window frame and completely smashed it to fit a mold of my fingers. Eric just looked as if I'd actually just hurt him and then said
"FREAK!" Then before I could get a hold on my emotions I threw my hands out to say,
"It's not what you think!" and ended up pushing the car into the street. I looked down at my hands in disgusted shock. I looked at Eric who was glaring holes into my face. I ran, I ran without looking back. I felt the hot wetness of tears running down my face. I just kept running home, I packed my bags with a change of clothes, chucks, some memoirs, my switchblade, and my toiletries. Because I knew my family had no tolerance for mutants. And that's what I was a mutant, a bigger freak than I already am. So I left a note explaining I ran away from New York. As I thought about where I could go, I went to work first and collected my last paycheck, for it was Friday, payday. I wrung my hands and tried to avoid awkward conversations as I handed in my resignation.
It felt like hours waiting in line at the bank to wipe the 7,000 dollars out of my bank savings account. After I thanked the teller profusely, I picked back up in my mission to get out of New York. I stopped walking in front of Moe's Motorcycles, I bought my Harley and without thinking, I drove in the direction of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, just like the one mom used to tell me stories of.