This short, little essay is fluffy and a little humorous. But I had better explain a little of the back story behind it first. In my bouncing X-Men universe, Logan adopted Rogue after she came to the mansion.
She now see's him as her Daddy and in Wolverine's eyes, she's his little girl and always will be.
My So Called Life:
The Greatest Short Essay in the History of Short Essays: By Anna-Marie Logan
My life didn't start until I was fifteen. So whatever happened before that won't not be brushed upon because I'm such a great essay writer. The truth is, I didn't like life until I moved to the mansion.
I had no family, no possessions. Nothing. Only the clothes on my back and a giant chip on my shoulder. But I hope I've grown and changed for the better since then.
Sometimes I have great difficulty putting into words how appreciative I am or how much I owe James Logan. He's my best friend, my teacher, my protector: He's my father. My Daddy. And I wouldn't swap him for all the cigarettes in the world.
Mostly because if I did swap him for cigarettes he would kill me. But I also wouldn't want to be without him. No matter how much the man annoys me, how strict he is, or how much his lectures drive me to the brink of insanity, I would miss him if he went away.
He's my family. So that's why I'm sitting in the kitchen, writing this essay about my life and defending his honour from some jumped up little shit. Because James Logan is family and would do the same for me.
Sometimes being part of a family is hard, but it's worth all the bad times, the effort and the strife when I see the proud look on my Daddy's face when I achieve something or I beat the high score in the Danger Room. I never thought anybody would be proud of me, but I know he is.
To me adoption means I'm finally with the right parent(s). I was born, abandoned, then fostered. But I never felt like I truly belonged until I was fifteen and met my Daddy. It makes no difference that we aren't related by blood, there's still a strong bond there that will never be broken no matter what life throws our way.
Happiness was a feeling I had forgotten over the years. I only felt rage, bitter disappointment and complete hatred at everybody and everything. But enough with the past, I only want to look to the future. My future is now bright, painted with happiness, shades of green and a sprinkle of something categorically Canadian. I have my Daddy to thank for that.
Having a father like mine is pretty fucking amazing. (Can I swear in an essay, Daddy? You had better not dock any points if I can't or I'll make your life a misery!) He's the toughest man I've ever met but he's also a teddy bear. There's nobody else I'd rather spend time with. Well, except Johnny Cash. But he's on the great stage in the sky.
Johnny Cash had a love for black, guitars, country music and June Carter Cash. My Daddy has simple pleasures too. They range from flannel shirts, beer, cigars and cage fighting. To facial hair, The Rolling Stones, Canada, lecturing me and kicking ass. Yes, his life really is that boring. Then again, he is an old man now (One hundred and fifty! That's damn old. And all those candles we would need for his birthday cake would burn the mansion down to the ground!) and old men are pretty set in their ways.
My Daddy is old fashioned and punishes me when I misbehave. It took me a long time to fully understand why he does this. Even when he explained his reasons for his decisions I still refused to listen and would shout, scream, yell, curse, fight and then mope and sulk with a sore behind.
Things are different now though, because I do finally understand. He punishes me as my parent because he wants me to grow up to be happy and well adjusted. He doesn't wish a life of crime, drug addiction or just plain arrogance, stupidity and ignorance for me: He wants me to be educated, strong, independent, sensible, caring, loving and well liked. And thanks to him, I will be that and more. I will make him proud.
I may not say this enough to his face or even tell him when we're alone, but I love him with all my heart. James Logan is my Daddy and always will be no matter what happens. He took me under his wing when he could see that I was struggling with my life and made sure I was loved, cared for and felt safe.
I always have somebody to talk to when I'm feeling down, lonely, upset or angry at the world. And I go to bed at night knowing nothing or nobody can hurt me because I'm the Wolverine's little girl, and my Daddy would kill anybody who tried to harm me.
This essay started out as a difficult and infuriating assignment from an angry Daddy, but it turned out do be a blessing in disguise. I was able to sit down and think seriously about my life and what's important to me.
I just hope then when this is handed in to the asshole who made me do it, he'll be as pleased with the outcome as I am. It might not be the longest essay in history (Hence the title) or the most educational, funniest or most thought provoking, but it came from the heart, my heart and I mean every single word.
There's only one more thing left to say and that's I love you Daddy, and this essay is for you and your eyes only. If it ever falls into the wrong hands I will hurt you. Oh, and I charged a two hundred dollar pair of leather pants to your bank card. Sorry about that. But please remember that I love you a lot and they were the most beautiful pair of pants I had ever seen. So please don't shred them!