Evolution.

It has taken twists and turns through many generations. Changes have occurred, although minute, in various species - with human-kind as well. Those who have not adapted to the change are filled with confusion, hatred and ignorance. They're driven by anger, by fear of what was to become the new dominant race. These mutants are the next step in the chain. They've been given unique and admirable abilities to shape their own lives, as well as the lives of those who were blessed to meet them in the path of life. Although, for an unfortunate few, the path of life can take a dark turn, tearing them away from the light that once beamed on their faces -- tearing them away from the force of 'good'.

I was once a lively spirit. I once skipped through the halls of the place named "The School for the Gifted" as a happy, innocent child and knew nothing more than what I was told. Professor Xavier was like a father to me, he cradled me in his arms when I cried, he nursed my wounds when I skid my knee running through the courtyards (as children do) and he offered me a help that my biological parents were unable to give me: the chance to channel the gift I'd been given. Sure, I had appreciated this as I got older...but to balance the understanding of his intentions, I had my suspicions. Was I getting the right and fair training? Upon my recent death, I realized it wasn't as such. There was a strong force, lying dormant inside of me, lying practically dead because the man Charles Francis Xavier had not given me the knowledge of this great power. The dreams, the torture of headaches and proverbial implosion of my mind all came to a screeching halt, with an obvious answer. Aha, I nodded.

Here, beneath the calm waters that roared above me on that fateful day -- I sacrificed myself to let the others live. I sacrificed myself coming to terms with the face of death, coming to the bitter reality that I would awaken this sleeping giant.

The Phoenix.
With this alone, I would live again.

As I lie, in this sleep, I am left to contemplate my choices. Did I make the right one by going to his school? Should I have trusted the prophecies of the man named Erik Lenseherr and taken his way when he and Charles decided to fork away from each other in ideals? What if I had not saved the others in the jet that day, boarded it and moved on with my daily life?

Of course, like humans as they pass of disease, old age, or untimely and unfortunate circumstance -- I had left behind someone I loved with all of my beating heart...and once it became enclosed in this cocoon I now lie within -- that love became hate. Not for this man I loved, per se. Not for those who cried upon my passing. But for Xavier, himself. He cradled me when I was weak, he covered over my scars that were an example of endurance and strength -- and lastly, suppressed the power inside.

Scott...Scott -- I need you.. My voice echoes in his mind, etched in there like a tattoo; an irreplaceable, unremovable spirit of torment and pain. He revels in his anger, his anguish and tearful sorrow for I have left him in such a shambles. Scott...Help me! My voice echoes in his mind, across the roadways, across the lake, bouncing off of the waters and barriers of sanity. As I see him tossing and turning, confined to the room that was once ours I do indeed feel pain for him...though it does not bring me to my knees. Part of me wonders if he will find me, and the other does not care. I would awaken at some point, set ablaze by the thought of Xavier's gall and lies he's spitting to the children that I once taught.

But now, I cannot be controlled. This force has been growing for the decades of my life that I once dedicated to the man who took me in. The eyes that lie behind the sleeping lids burn with retribution; they are bright with the fiery intent on letting my wrath be felt.

Xavier.
I am coming for you.