Ever since I was a little girl fire has always been something that attracted me attention. It was something that compelled me like an old friend. Something that I felt...understood me and I understood it. If that made any sense whatsoever.
My parents used to find matches and lighters in my room, something I'd always try to hide as they worried I'd become..what was the word...a pyromaniac. I don't think they realized what I truly was though, not at first at least. For that I was grateful or I may have ended up where I was sooner...
The ground was freezing, snow having begun to cake heavily on the frost ridden sidewalks. I hated snow and ice having never had to deal with it until I began traveling and slowly making my way up the east coast of the US.
Originally I was from Florida. Close to Orlando, a little further out in a rural area approximately twenty miles from the city. It was my home..or had been until the rural community found out what I could do. See, humans hate and fear what they don't understand. And I am a perfect example of that, people hate mutants...and that is what I am.
Shaking off the memories from what felt like ages ago, but was really only a month, I shuddered from the frost bitten air and wrapped my arms around myself. I had lost weight since I began traveling, I use to be a good hundred and fifty pounds, now I couldn't be more than one twenty. And lord was it showing with the older clothes I was wearing. My once snug faded blue jeans were torn and baggy, hanging low on my hips, and my red long sleeve now thread bare was ill fitting; at least more than it was before.
I blew warmth into my fingers, the air within me that I sucked in heating dramatically as I willed my mutation to try and stir the inner fire within. Rubbing my frozen red fingers together, cheeks becoming red as well from the nippy air, I slid into an alley to get a wind break.
Sighing heavily I settled in against the wall and concentrated heavily on creating friction between my hands. Rubbing them together faster and faster they began to glow a soft red before smoke filtered into the air and sparks slowly flickered to life. Grinning weakly I watched transfixed as a small flame eventually sprung into existence in my very palms.
Suddenly the sound of a vehicles squeaking breaks caught my attention. Looking up I saw a sleek expensive look black car slow down. An older bald man within catching my attention from the back seat his intelligent blue eyes were locked on me. A gentle smile curling his lips as the vehicle idled. Just as suddenly as everything stopped it started again, the front door opened to the vehicle and just like that it was the push I needed to take off. The flames dying in my hands, the cold returning, as I took off at a dead sprint across the streets of Manchester, New York.
AN:
Hey everyone! So this is the first X Men centered story I've written in a LOOOOOONG while. Let me know what you think of the prologue, I'd like to know so I can decide on whether to continue or not. haha
