Resurrected By An Angel

Kadaj sat huddled on the rickety, wooden chair. Splattered with dried paint of a bygone day, and bathed in the moonlight from the summer night outside, it held Kadaj's trembling form with cold distance. Kadaj shook, hearing the front door slam, announcing the arrival of his wasted and drunk father. Kadaj could count on one hand the times when his father was drunk and nothing ever happened. What was worse, was his mother was due back within an hour, and she would likely be just as drunk. At seventeen years old, Kadaj was thin, yet built and muscular, but not too bulky. His hair was longer, down to his chin and cut slightly higher at the back of his neck. This week it was dyed a dark red, with a single white strip on the left side of his head. Kadaj's eyes were a stunning yellow and red, almost unearthly looking. Everyone suspected he wore colored contacts. Kadaj knew the real reason. And he shuddered to think what would ever happen if his parents ever even suspected the reason for the unusual color of his eyes. He still bore, and would always wear, the three scars across his otherwise bare back, right in between the shoulder blades, the result of an empty Absolut vodka bottle.

The almost bare room in which Kadaj sat, held little in the way of comfort, and nothing in the way or ornamentation. With almost all the money being used for his parents booze, really the only thing he possessed of any importance to him, was a suitcase under his bed. Filled with his clothes, and some personal things, he basically lived out of that suitcase. If he even tried to leave any of his clothes out, they would be ruined by his parents in their drunken rage. What little money he could siphon from his mother's purse when she wasn't looking, he bought all of his clothes second hand, and often modified them for his own tastes. His one and only friend from school, Zara, like him, was a punk rock girl with black and purple hair, cropped and spiked. Unlike him, she came from a slightly better neighborhood, and her parents were loving and welcoming. There was always an open door when he would unexpectedly knock in the middle of the night, and he would often just crash and burn on the couch in their den. Zara bought all the rest of his clothes, not because he asked, but because she watched over him as best she could, knowing no one else did.

Dressed now in red and black "Gothic" pants dangling with straps and a single chain that remained attached to his wallet in his back pocket and a black long-sleeve, skin-tight shirt emblazoned with the name "Disturbed" on the front and back, he was almost bracing himself for the appearance of his father. Kadaj was barefooted and wore a single black and silver spiked choker, and black and red eye-liner completed his look. Any second now, and all hell would break loose.

"Where is the brat?!" screamed his father, "Where is that bastard?"

Storming through the house with a vengeance, his father practically broke the door leading into Kadaj's room and threw the first punch. Kadaj, over the years, had become almost an expert at avoiding the violence of at least one of his parents. Sidestepping, his father's fist overshot and hit air. But his father was quick, and quickly lashed out with his leg and kicked Kadaj in the gut.

"I'll teach you to be afraid of me, you mother's boy!" yelled his father.

Kadaj had had the air knocked out of him as he tumbled back into the wall. He knew from experience not stay on the floor. Getting to his feet as quickly as possible, he twisted and narrowly avoided his father's second kick. Running down the hallway, Kadaj was cuffed twice in the face, and the kick to the chest threw him over the couch in the living room. Out of nowhere, his mother appeared brandishing a empty bottle of rum, bringing it down toward his head. Screaming in fear, Kadaj rolled forward, narrowly missing the descending bottle, and in the process, tripping his mother onto the ground. He knew he was in for it, rarely had this happened that both attacked. What scared him, was the stress that came with a fight like this. The last time he had stressed too much in front of Zara, she had quickly discovered his closely guarded secret. His second secret she had already known.

Advancing quickly, his mother threw the glass bottle, Kadaj ducked, and it shattered against the dining room wall. He had forgotten about his father, who hit him with one of the dining room chairs, striking his side and sending him careening. The fight degenerated quickly, and another glass bottle came in to play. A sliver of glass cut what would become a scar down his face across his left eye, missing the actual eye by a few millimeters. Cuts on his arms and a single cut across his chest weren't serious, but bled profusely.

"You are no son of ours, you fairy!" screamed his mother.

Kadaj knew he couldn't hold out that much longer. The pressure was building in his head, and he was weak. His instincts would take over soon, and he knew he would lose his home if that happened. He knew he was a mutant. He was hated by so many people in the world just because of that one word. His abilities had manifested when, thankfully, he had been with Zara. His mind told him he was powerful, and he could only imagine what he was fully capable of doing. Research by both him and Zara had been fruitless as the community they lived in, the city of Seattle, Washington, was almost adamantly opposed to mutants and had forbidden public knowledge of the "diseased humans", as they called them. Kadaj could feel his powers at the tip of his fingers. When with Zara, his eyes had turned completely white, the sky turned dark, and the resulting storm and bolt of lightning he had hurled in his anger had split the pine tree they were standing near in the park. But there had been other, feelings, other abilities, that he had felt almost in reach of in that brief moment.

He was having that same feeling again, and while he never wanted to kill anyone, his parents deserved a lot of his anger. At that moment, Kadaj knew that there was no turning back, it was going to happen and he couldn't stop it. Who cared anymore anyway, these people – they were no longer his parents – they deserved it.

As his parents came at him from both sides, he screamed in absolute terror, holding his arms up in front of his face. The resulting shield he generated in his mind, blocked his parents attack, throwing them back into the living room with a tremendous force. The he rose, scared of the damage he might have done, even though all he had wanted to do was block the attack. Apparently, his parents were completely fine.

"Now you will die, you mutant freak!" threatened his father, "Your death will be an example for mutants everywhere."

In a second, Kadaj's mind raced. Yeah he was mad at the world, yeah, he hated his parents. But, did he want to die right now and in this way? No way! There was no way in hell he was going to go out like this, not in a million years!

He didn't know all of what he was capable of, although he knew every now and then, he would hear a thought Zara was thinking. Maybe, just maybe, he could influence the brain. Thinking really hard about someone going unconscious, he shut is eyes and held out his hands. Opening his eyes, he looked and his parents were out cold, but he didn't know for how long. Running for his room, he drug out his suitcase, threw in his pillow, twenty dollars from his mother's purse in the bathroom and was heading toward his door when he heard his dad yell again from the living room.

Panicking, he ran to his window, pried it open, and threw his suitcase to the ground below. The drop was big, but he had done it before. Heaving himself over the windowsill, he dropped to waiting grass and rolled with the impact. Scrambling to the bush in the front yard, he opened his suitcase, and removed and clothed himself with the floor length trench coat Zara had given him soon after his powers manifested. Tailored with two opens seams up the back, and made with fine black leather, it suited him perfectly. Pulling up the lapel to frame his face, Kadaj took off down the road to Zara's house.

The suburbs of Seattle, while comfortable, were somewhat vast and gave Kadaj plenty of time to think while making his way to Zara's. Obviously, he would have to run, since the police and city would likely just imprison him and say what his parents did to him was all done in self-defense. And he didn't want to endanger Zara in any way, so he would just have to run. Sorrow and depression began to set in, and as he realized a few weeks earlier, the weather was often affected by his mood. The sky turned darker yet, the moon was obscured, and it began to rain. He needed to find someone who would help him with his powers, and not forsake him for his secrets. Zara knew all. His other closely guarded secret was one, judging by his appearance, no one would expect. For the past four years, he found he was attracted to boys as well as girls. Zara had told him he could be bi, and he had settled into that feeling, accepting himself pretty easily. After all, he was a mutant, if he could accept that, he could accept pretty much anything.

It began to rain harder as he approached Zara's house. Rapping on the door, it was answered almost immediately by Zara in a long sheer white robe. While she was one of the few women Kadaj felt attracted to, he knew they were best friends, and anything else would probably ruin their friendship.

"My god," exclaimed Zara, "I felt something was wrong, but what the hell happened?!"

"They got violent again," said Kadaj, "They beat me up pretty bad this time, can I spend the night? I have everything of mine with me, there is no going back anymore."

"Why, what's going on?" questioned Zara fiercely.

"They found out, about me being a mutant," Kadaj sadly proclaimed, "I tried to stop, but I needed to protect myself, and it just sort of kicked in. I am cut up a little, mind helping?"

Kadaj could barely finish the sentence as he almost collapsed into Zara's arms, weeping like a thousand floods. Quietly and expertly, Zara supported him to her bathroom and carefully stripped him of his soaked clothes, started the water running in the whirlpool tub, and gently helped Kadaj's pain-wracked body into the water. She had done this before, there was no hiding anything from her. She had seen his cuts, his bruises, as each fight got progressively worse. And after each one, she had bathed him, patched him up, and cradled him as he cried himself to sleep so many nights. Quickly understanding how he was a mutant had helped her keep the rest of this a secret from the world for him. Although she so many times had wanted to scream in the face of many higher-ups, telling them to look at the cuts, the bruises, the looks on his face when he flinched to a sudden gesture, she realized how much would be done to him if he did lose his secrecy. He would lose EVERYTHING.

Tonight, he couldn't sleep, and as they quietly sipped the amber colored iced tea and sat in the quiet darkness of the kitchen, lit only by a small candle in the middle of the table, Zara began to realize how much he was trembling. This last attack could've destroyed him.

"Kadaj," Zara began, "I think we need to tell my parents, about everything. And before you tell me that they will hate you too, you have to realize. I mean, look at me, they like me, I am a punk rock, sneaky person and I talk back all the time and they still LOVE me! They will help you, I know it."

Almost resigning himself to a fate he didn't know yet, Kadaj seemed to agree.

"Very well," he began, "There is not much else I can lose, might as well, although if they act badly, you know I am still going to run, right?"

"Yeah, I know, but let's at least see what they can do." Zara said hopefully.

"Ok," agreed Kadaj.

In about an hour, Zara's parents knew everything about Kadaj. Her mom was crying, and there were also tears present in the eyes of her father. Although they would've taken Kadaj into their own home in a heartbeat, they realized he needed a person and environment to help him with his unique abilities. A call was placed to Zara's aunt, who lived in New York, and had often mentioned the remarkable presence of a number of mutants in her area. She said she would look around to see what she could find, and, after being acquainted with Kadaj's circumstances, said to send Zara and Kadaj on the first available flight to New York as soon as possible.

Within the next three hours, Kadaj and Zara were on a plane bound for a one-way trip to New York City, New York. Zara was exhausted, and with her head resting on Kadaj's shoulder, she looked so peaceful. Kadaj was awake, staring out into the cloudy night sky, wandering what awaited him in New York. He had a feeling his life was beginning anew. But his silently resolved to himself that nobody would ever hurt him like that again.

Hours later, the plane began to descend toward the New York International Airport. Looks were thrown to both Kadaj and Zara as they seemed to be the only Goths present in the airport. Zara's Aunt Layla was suddenly upon them, showering them with hugs and kisses. Zara thought Kadaj would be really standoffish because of what he had been through. But he actually seemed to enjoy it. Kadaj, meanwhile, was wishing his family had been like this, so loving, so caring.

As they rode the taxi from the airport back to Aunt Layla's Manhattan apartment, Kadaj realized that money must abound throughout Zara's family. The apartment was beautiful, vintage, with colors of bronze, orange, gold, turquoise blue gracing the walls and decorations of the suite. Everything was modern, uncluttered, and positively exquisite. Show them to a single bedroom, as she knew they were comfortable being together, she left them to sleep till dinner.

Dinner was a small affair, being prepared by Layla herself. When Kadaj and Layla emerged from the back of the apartment, they found there was set a fourth spot at the dinner table. Before Layla could answer the inquiries, the doorbell rang. A refined, bald headed man, dressed in a dark blue suit, and sitting in a mechanized wheelchair, followed Layla into the apartment and greeted both Zara and Kadaj.

"Hello there," he began, "I am Professor Xavier. Layla is a dear old friend of mine, and has invited me to talk with you specifically, Kadaj and to assess your unique talents. You see, I run a school, which, under the guise of a school for the talented, myself and some of my former students teach other mutants how to master their abilities and use them for the good of mankind, despite how everyone treats us. I would like to extend an invitation to you, to attend the school, make friends, and perhaps, eventually, become part of a team of mutants to put out threats to humanity and other mutants. What do you say?"

"So far," Kadaj began, "You are the only person not related to this family that has not almost killed me for being who I am. I believe, or at least my mind is telling me, that enrolling in your school would be in my best interests. I will come on at least one condition though."

"And what is that?" asked Professor Xavier.

"That I be allowed to keep in contact with and visit both Zara and Layla, and that you try not to change ME," finished Kadaj rather forcefully.

"I can assure you Kadaj," responded the Professor with all the warmth of a perfect grandfather, "That we will not try to change you, you can be anyone you want to be. Also, you will be able to keep in contact with anyone you wish from your life before our school."

"Then I accept," Kadaj stated simply, "And I look forward to learning more about my powers."

"Then," said Professor Xavier, "In behalf of the team and school, I welcome you."