Chapter 1- Castles Made of Sand
And so castles made of sand, melts into the sea eventually.
--Jimi Hendrix (Castles Made of Sand)
Thing would have turned out very differently for me if I hadn't been a mutant. I can't tell you how differently because it never happened but it certainly would have been different.
My name is Annie Olga Margaret Williams Ross Reedy and it's pretty much my family tree all saddled onto one medium sized seventeen year old girl.
Now I'm sure you're wondering what horrible thing I could have done in the few hours between the time I became a separate entity from my mother and the time my parents filled out my birth certificate to deserve such at name. And the answer to your question is nothing, not really anyway. But I was premature and so under weight that I wasn't expected to live past a few hours so my parents designed my name to look good on a tombstone.
But two weeks later I had gained exactly eleven pounds and three ounces my rather fat doctor scratched his bald head and told my parents they could take me home.
My parents, my older sister and I lived in a small house in the suburbs of Nashville Tennessee and we had a quiet, picturesque existence. But I was different from the rest of my nuclear family who couldn't have been happier with this normality, I wanted adventure. I had friends and a regular social calendar but at the end of the day I'd crawl into bed with a good book.
I wasn't a bad kid, but I was at least the gray sheep of my family. To curious for my own good I often got in to trouble my saintly sister and numerous cousin never even dreamed off. And it didn't help my parents and my relationship that they had the rest of my family pressuring them to keep me in line.
But it never occurred to me that I might be a mutant. Now my parents didn't like mutants, they didn't think they were god's creatures. But they didn't ever talk about mutants and I never listened anyway. So I never developed the normal prejudices which was a blessing as it didn't incite self- deprecating feelings later.
Now don't get my wrong, my extended family is nice enough, but I hate family reunions. They're uncomfortable (as I always forget to bring something), long and above all they're boring. Oh yeah and just in case I don't suffer enough I usually get to baby-sit all my aunt and uncle's hellions. Sure guys dump all the little brats with me, good plan.
So I had just subdued a revolution with the third showing of the four billionth sequel to A Land Before Time (you know those people at Disney sure know how to take a good idea and beat it to death). I knew they're lame taste in movies would keep them occupied for at least an hour and a half so I locked them in the living room and slipped out to finish my book. And it was then that my Auntie Margaret decides she really needs the cookies out of our fridge.
Now my Margaret and I don't really get on well. I think it has something to do with the time I explained to her precious popkins (AKA my Cousin Rose) what a blow job was. But I mean come on; she was already fourteen and bound to be told sooner or later. The way I see it Auntie Margie should have been counting her blessings that Rosie was naïve enough to repeat what I had told her. But Auntie Margie didn't see it that.
Now I wasn't a bad kid but I wasn't the sweet angel Rosie was and something about the way Margaret had sheltered the poor girl made me want to get her into trouble. But I didn't have the guts so I contented myself with explaining things she wouldn't get from her parents or the equally innocent girls at her private school.
But anyway I just knew I was in for a lecture about blowing off my responsibility, even thought it was only because of my unswerving generosity (and the fact that my parents threatened to ground me) that I was watching the little brats.
So I leaned back, ready to accept my fate wishing with every fiber of my body that could just be invisible. And sure enough she walked right by me, got the cookies out of the fridge and walked right back out. Now I know she wouldn't just ignore a perfectly good opportunity to get me in deep shit with my parents. And it was highly unlikely that she wouldn't notice, as I know for a fact she had at least 20-20 vision able to pick out anything I did wrong from a distance of forty feet.
And then my attention was drawn to the double doors where I should have been reflected. But funny thing that, 'cause you see I wasn't. But just then the ten six-year-olds burst through the door and I became visible in the glass.
"Charge!" Yelled the ringleader, my Aunt Andrea's little boy, Kevin, who was almost seven and the oldest.
Well being wrestled to the ground and sat on by my charges kept my mind off the strange incident for a while. "The United States doesn't negotiate with hostage takers." I informed them as the read me their list of demands.
"You can cooperate or you can suffer the consequences." Kevin threatened looking pointedly at my room.
Well after I had given them an advance on their cookies and promised to legislate for later bedtimes with the parents they released me and settled down for another round of the same god forsaken Land Before Time movie.
Leaving me with my thoughts and my worries. Had it just been a trick of the light, I wondered. My mind was reeling as I stumbled upstairs after returning the little brats to their biological progenitors.
So I stood in front of the mirror for over and hour trying different things. And just when I was about to give up and check myself into a mental institute I just sort of faded from sight. It was exactly that I was there one second and the next I wasn't, it was more like someone had used a dimmer switch on my visibility.
I looked down and realized that I couldn't see me either and that's when I tripped over the book I'd been reading before I went to bed and crashed into the side table sending the glass of water to the floor with me.
I was so beyond scared but my fingers immediately went into the motions of picking up the glass so no one would step on it. But seriously guys put yourself in my shoes, there's really no guide to behavior for the only partially visible, I was on uncharted territory.
Well I didn't think my parents would exactly scratch my name out of the family bible, vow never to speak my name again because my family doesn't have that kind of flare for drama. But they certainly wouldn't be pleased. And I mean how do you break that one to your parents, "Pass the mashed potatoes and by the way I can turn invisible,".not easily, that's how.
Now don't get me wrong I'm not a person who avoids confrontation at all costs but let's just say I'm not a real big fan either. So I didn't tell my parents for a few weeks and then a few months.
And then one evening at the dinner table my parents announced that we were moving and I lost control. I started flickering in and out of sight, screaming that I didn't want to go. Well my parents didn't take well to their daughter being a mutant and next thing I knew we were all sitting around an uncomfortable silence in the living room and they were telling me that maybe I should go to a prep school.
So I ran. Prep school my ass, that's just where parents send kids they don't ever want to see. I took the bus to the train station and picked a train heading north just on the general principle I was tired of the summer heat.
But it felt wonderful and free on that train with my bag under the seat in front of me and my head pressed against the glass, chilled from the rain lashing it. This was my adventure and the funny thing was that I only felt a modicum of regret or remorse. Fuck my family, I was better off without them.
And so castles made of sand, melts into the sea eventually.
--Jimi Hendrix (Castles Made of Sand)
Thing would have turned out very differently for me if I hadn't been a mutant. I can't tell you how differently because it never happened but it certainly would have been different.
My name is Annie Olga Margaret Williams Ross Reedy and it's pretty much my family tree all saddled onto one medium sized seventeen year old girl.
Now I'm sure you're wondering what horrible thing I could have done in the few hours between the time I became a separate entity from my mother and the time my parents filled out my birth certificate to deserve such at name. And the answer to your question is nothing, not really anyway. But I was premature and so under weight that I wasn't expected to live past a few hours so my parents designed my name to look good on a tombstone.
But two weeks later I had gained exactly eleven pounds and three ounces my rather fat doctor scratched his bald head and told my parents they could take me home.
My parents, my older sister and I lived in a small house in the suburbs of Nashville Tennessee and we had a quiet, picturesque existence. But I was different from the rest of my nuclear family who couldn't have been happier with this normality, I wanted adventure. I had friends and a regular social calendar but at the end of the day I'd crawl into bed with a good book.
I wasn't a bad kid, but I was at least the gray sheep of my family. To curious for my own good I often got in to trouble my saintly sister and numerous cousin never even dreamed off. And it didn't help my parents and my relationship that they had the rest of my family pressuring them to keep me in line.
But it never occurred to me that I might be a mutant. Now my parents didn't like mutants, they didn't think they were god's creatures. But they didn't ever talk about mutants and I never listened anyway. So I never developed the normal prejudices which was a blessing as it didn't incite self- deprecating feelings later.
Now don't get my wrong, my extended family is nice enough, but I hate family reunions. They're uncomfortable (as I always forget to bring something), long and above all they're boring. Oh yeah and just in case I don't suffer enough I usually get to baby-sit all my aunt and uncle's hellions. Sure guys dump all the little brats with me, good plan.
So I had just subdued a revolution with the third showing of the four billionth sequel to A Land Before Time (you know those people at Disney sure know how to take a good idea and beat it to death). I knew they're lame taste in movies would keep them occupied for at least an hour and a half so I locked them in the living room and slipped out to finish my book. And it was then that my Auntie Margaret decides she really needs the cookies out of our fridge.
Now my Margaret and I don't really get on well. I think it has something to do with the time I explained to her precious popkins (AKA my Cousin Rose) what a blow job was. But I mean come on; she was already fourteen and bound to be told sooner or later. The way I see it Auntie Margie should have been counting her blessings that Rosie was naïve enough to repeat what I had told her. But Auntie Margie didn't see it that.
Now I wasn't a bad kid but I wasn't the sweet angel Rosie was and something about the way Margaret had sheltered the poor girl made me want to get her into trouble. But I didn't have the guts so I contented myself with explaining things she wouldn't get from her parents or the equally innocent girls at her private school.
But anyway I just knew I was in for a lecture about blowing off my responsibility, even thought it was only because of my unswerving generosity (and the fact that my parents threatened to ground me) that I was watching the little brats.
So I leaned back, ready to accept my fate wishing with every fiber of my body that could just be invisible. And sure enough she walked right by me, got the cookies out of the fridge and walked right back out. Now I know she wouldn't just ignore a perfectly good opportunity to get me in deep shit with my parents. And it was highly unlikely that she wouldn't notice, as I know for a fact she had at least 20-20 vision able to pick out anything I did wrong from a distance of forty feet.
And then my attention was drawn to the double doors where I should have been reflected. But funny thing that, 'cause you see I wasn't. But just then the ten six-year-olds burst through the door and I became visible in the glass.
"Charge!" Yelled the ringleader, my Aunt Andrea's little boy, Kevin, who was almost seven and the oldest.
Well being wrestled to the ground and sat on by my charges kept my mind off the strange incident for a while. "The United States doesn't negotiate with hostage takers." I informed them as the read me their list of demands.
"You can cooperate or you can suffer the consequences." Kevin threatened looking pointedly at my room.
Well after I had given them an advance on their cookies and promised to legislate for later bedtimes with the parents they released me and settled down for another round of the same god forsaken Land Before Time movie.
Leaving me with my thoughts and my worries. Had it just been a trick of the light, I wondered. My mind was reeling as I stumbled upstairs after returning the little brats to their biological progenitors.
So I stood in front of the mirror for over and hour trying different things. And just when I was about to give up and check myself into a mental institute I just sort of faded from sight. It was exactly that I was there one second and the next I wasn't, it was more like someone had used a dimmer switch on my visibility.
I looked down and realized that I couldn't see me either and that's when I tripped over the book I'd been reading before I went to bed and crashed into the side table sending the glass of water to the floor with me.
I was so beyond scared but my fingers immediately went into the motions of picking up the glass so no one would step on it. But seriously guys put yourself in my shoes, there's really no guide to behavior for the only partially visible, I was on uncharted territory.
Well I didn't think my parents would exactly scratch my name out of the family bible, vow never to speak my name again because my family doesn't have that kind of flare for drama. But they certainly wouldn't be pleased. And I mean how do you break that one to your parents, "Pass the mashed potatoes and by the way I can turn invisible,".not easily, that's how.
Now don't get me wrong I'm not a person who avoids confrontation at all costs but let's just say I'm not a real big fan either. So I didn't tell my parents for a few weeks and then a few months.
And then one evening at the dinner table my parents announced that we were moving and I lost control. I started flickering in and out of sight, screaming that I didn't want to go. Well my parents didn't take well to their daughter being a mutant and next thing I knew we were all sitting around an uncomfortable silence in the living room and they were telling me that maybe I should go to a prep school.
So I ran. Prep school my ass, that's just where parents send kids they don't ever want to see. I took the bus to the train station and picked a train heading north just on the general principle I was tired of the summer heat.
But it felt wonderful and free on that train with my bag under the seat in front of me and my head pressed against the glass, chilled from the rain lashing it. This was my adventure and the funny thing was that I only felt a modicum of regret or remorse. Fuck my family, I was better off without them.