This basement, it's so cold. A lot colder since the noises from upstairs stopped and the water heater went dead. I'm freezing my ass off, even with this thick fabric around my shoulders and covering my face. The old jeans are torn and worn through along with my black tanktop. My newest outfit, ruined. I just got this three years ago! Guess that's why they're mad at me.

Them being my world. The two people I love more than anything, who I would die for. My parents.

Yeah sure they threw me in here, but they said it's for my own good. They said the world would hate me if I came up. They even terach about things by home schooling me! Mom is my own teacher and always gives me fun things to do like Geometery, and Calculus, and English. The worksheets are the best to do and she's always proud of me! Dad too! That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside!

However...

It's been two weeks. Two weeks since I've last eaten. I haven't heard the usual shuffling of feet from my parents up stairs. No one has come to check if I'm still alive or bring me food. Did they leave me? Is it okay to come up with out them crying?

I stand and walk away from my pity corner, legs shaking with hunger...and fear. My long black cloak drags behind me and covers my face.

They haven't looked at me since I turned six, Mom even taught me behind the door, slipping my textbooks in when I sleep. All hope of them truely loving me is lost. All hope of a normal life lost long ago. Ever since these damn mutations popped up nothing's been normal. Hell even before then nothing was normal, but we at least pretended back then.

The old wooden stairs creak underneath my light footsteps. The door lies just ahead of me. I can see the crack of light and even that little bit felt warm to me. Beyond this wooden door is warmth, light, food. All things I'm craving at the moment. This beat down door that I could destroy with one flick of my wrist.

Maybe we can start over if I come out into the light. Maybe they'll love me again. Maybe I don't look that bad in the light.

I reach for the silver doorknob, touch it, feel it's cool metal through my gloves.

Then again...

What if they hate me? What if I look worse in the light? I don't want to see Mom cry or hear Dad yell at me. I don't want them to get mad and throw me back down again. That hurt. They must be so mad at me for running around in the crawl spaces. They stopped feeding me after that. I just wanted to show them what I can do. To make them understand. To say "hello" after not seeing them for so long.

They don't understand. They will never understand. The fear, the hatred, the disgust I have for myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself! Mommy why don't you love me any more? Daddy why can't we watch football or wrestle any more? HUH? WHY? I DON'T UNDERSTAND!

My hand falls and so do I. I drop to the top stair and hold my legs close to my chest, tears filling my eyes.

"This isn't my fault! It's not my fault!" My head is throbbing, voices racing through it telling me it is. That I should just die. I bring my hands to my head, rainbow colored tears slipping from my red eyes with black background. "Stop it! I didn't do this!"

"No, you didn't." I jerk up. This is a new voice, the only one who has actually agreed with me. Let alone, it was a deep soothing voice from a man. Not the harsh cut throat voices I'm use to. "You didn't do this, Lucridias."

"I-I didn't?" The voice seems too real for me not to talk to, and who the hell can actually see me? "B-but they told me I'm the problem. I am, I know I am."

"No, you're not. Never think you are the problem. People just need to get use to mutants. That's all."

Who does this guy-voice think he is? He's supposed to always agree with me and remind me how much of a freak I am. Stop telling me other wise head-voice! "Yeah well you know, my parents had nine years to get use to my mutation. They haven't yet." I hold my shoulders, rubbing the dirty fabric. "They still haven't, and they hate me. I don't blame them though. I'm a monster."

"No you are not. Your parents are the monsters. No person should have to go through what you do. It isn't right." The piecesof my heart throb to life with those words. I'm not a monster? Is he calling Mom and Dad liars? How dare he!

"Guess you're that tiny bit of hope left in me, huh?" I pull the black hood down lower, so it completely covers my eyes. A light buzzing becomes audible in the back of my head. This same annoying buzzing that has bothered me for a week now. My mind races, finds a spot, sees a man. He's bald with piercing blue eyes with a weird metal cap on his head with many tubes coming from it. A deep purple aura shines around him with a few teal sparkles floating around in the mix. "No, you're a mutant. A psychic named Charles Xavier." I smirk, showing off my sharp canines. "Mr. Xavier it's best to stay out of my head." I slam down thick mental doors in my head. "This is as far as you can go."

He chuckles. "You're a smart girl, Lucridias. If you know who and what I am, do you know why I've finally contacted you?" In my mind, he smiles. A truely warm and sincere smile that makes me feel warm and, whats that feeling...? Is it safe? I like it.

"Finally?" I pause. The buzzing, him creeping inside my skull. Deep into the dark memories that have caused so much pain, so many scars. He knows me inside and out, watched me, judged me. "You've been here a week, haven't you? How deep have you gone in?" This man, no matter how safe he makes me feel, still invaded my mind and crawled around. Worst is, I almost trusted him. Never underestimate psychics. My claw-like black nails reach up for my neck, scratching it. Nervous habit.

"Don't worry I haven't gone in too deep. I just wanted to figure out your powers and a little of your life slipped through."His eyes are filled with sadness.

And pity.

"How little?" Okay, now I'm growling. Well I'm pissed, why shouldn't I?

"First, stop scratching your neck. You're bleeding." I do. "Good. I've only seen that your father threw you down the basement stairs and that you have markings. Nothing mind wrecking I'm sure." I cling to myself. That first day was the worst. The broken teeth and blood every where, it sucked ass.

"Just stay out. It's an invasion of privacy and you're really pissing me off." A slight shutter escapes my throat as I force the memory back in my head. "Charles Xavier, I'm guessing the Charles Xavier of Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters." I've read about him in loose newspaper clippings that Dad tried to burn.

The schoolwas under investigation by the FBI and Secrete Services when they thought the children where being abused. They spent about a week there and found it was only the intence P.E. classes with Professor Logan. I remember a quote: "They train these kids worse than the comander trained us in the military! It's almost as if they're being trained for a war..." I remember it because it made me laugh, the first time in a long time.

"Guessing that doesn't mean it's a prep school forthe buff if you're inviting me, especialy in this way, huh?" I dig my nails into my shoulders. "You're tracking me too. You obviously want me to join the school desperatly, don't you?"

"Yes. I think you'll find my school is a safe haven for people like you. People with natural abilities such as your own." He chuckles and grips the sides of his...wheelchair? He's a pshychic with a disability and showing it? Why doesn't he just use his powers to levitate and make it look like he's walking? It doesn't make scense...

"You mean freaks." Heard it before, the word leaves a sour taste in my mouth and a sting on my heart.

"No I mean Mutants. Geneticly altered beings." Again, that warming smile. "The next stage."

"The next stage?" It sinks in. I don't know if it's a psychic thing he's doing with my mind, but it truely does. I'm the next stage, like the first single celled organisms. "I like that."