Disclaimer: I do not own X-men evolution or any of the characters in it. I also do not own the book "Demon in My View" written by Amelia Atwater-Rodes. (She's a great author and I recommend her to everyone!)
Everyone has heard the saying that life isn't fair. And I suppose that is true. Life can deal out a few hard blows, but with those blows come blessings. A new beginning comes from some other beginnings end; what goes down must come up; When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. There are a thousand different ways in a thousand different languages to give encouragement. But does anyone remember these things when faced with a life and death situation? Does anyone concentrate on the better things this world has when death slaps him or her in the face? I wouldn't know truly. I've never been in a situation like that. Nope, I live in a nice home with great parents and lots of friends. I've never experienced war, never seen a person bleed to death from a gunshot wound. I've never been infected with a fatal disease. I can only imagine the pain a person with Ebola or the Red Plague must go through. Hell, the worst I've had was pneumonia, and I was only four when I caught it. I don't know what it feels like to slowly starve to death, as so many people my age feel every day. I don't suppose I've ever really felt true hunger. Sure, I've had my stomach growl a couple of times, but I've always had food to give it.
My ribs aren't gaunt, nearly bursting through my thin skin, like the pictures of children from Ethiopia. And I hope I never have to feel these things. Compared to others life, I haven't even begun to live mine. Fate dealt a cruel hand to these people and gave me my cushy life. But what is fate? Is it a chain of choices, each leading to a different path, weaving an intricate design as life goes by? Or is it one path that you never deter from, all choices already known and planned? Life is just a great mystery that man has yet to solve in the millions of years he's been on this planet. Philosophers have mused over it for thousands of years. It is the inspiration for poets; the canvas for artists; the ramblings of madmen. It is also the thoughts for one troubled teenager. Namely, me. I had often pondered these thoughts aloud to my friend Becky. She and I have been friends since we were born. We are like sisters and share everything. We are like two halves of a whole.
Nearly opposites, she's the pretty and popular one. Her white blond hair is always perfect, and her summer tan never goes away. Her bright blue eyes mirror everything around her, giving it a bright new excitement. She only wears the latest clothes and has a navel ring. While I am an outcast, always labeled a freak. And damn proud of it too. People don't understand why we're friends. Our other friends often pull her and me in different directions, but when it came to our friendship, we were rock solid. Though my fellow freaks and gothics think her a twit, a brainless airhead, but I know different. We both had to build walls to shield ourselves from the outside world. We tried as hard as we could to stay normal, keeping our friends as clueless as we could of our abilities. Once we recognized what we were fully capable of, we had to hide even harder. It's tough being a teenager with normal teenage problems, but it seems almost impossible when you have to worry about discovery. What discovery were we hiding? Discovery of mutant heritage. Mutation wasn't something new to my family. My mother grew up around telekinesis, having plates and other things flying about the house. It unnerved grandma's husband, and he left my mother when she was around eight. The mutant gene was always the recessive gene in my family, so it wasn't horribly suprising to my parents when I developed the gene. But it sure freaked Becky's parents out. Her great aunt gave her the recessive gene, but she died before Becky could meet her. Neither of us was told of our unique ancestry. Her's surfaced late one November morning; deep in one of the many forests that surrounded our southern homes. I had just invited her over for a swim in our lake behind my house. I remember every detail of that morning. The faint sunlight drifting lazily through various holes in the golden leaves of the trees foliage, causing small poles of light to uncover the various plants and growths that were sprinkled about like fairy dust among the strong and sturdy oak and pine trees. Soft moss was springy under our barefeet, which occasionally made a sick slurp in the squishy mud. We both took turns catching the red and gold leaves that fell from unimaginable heights to crunch beneath our feet.
Our bright tropical bathing suits looked odd against the gentle colors of the forest. The birds squawked sharply, annoyed at out childish behavior. Our shouts and laughter echoed through the shadowed crevices of the woods. Mother Nature always had that affect on us as children, and hadn't dulled over the painful years of Adolescence. It wasn't long before the sharp twinkling of the lake assaulted my eye. It was in a bright clearing, bathing in the golden glow of the sunlight. Small bushes almost hid the lake from view, sheltering it from intruders. The soft chirping of sparrows and the distant, harsh call of a crow echoed across its softly rippling surface. Without a word from either of us, we set racing to the rope swing. I beat her to it and pulled it back as far as it would go. Memories floated by. Becky and I discovering the lake for the first time; Me sneaking into my father's shed to 'borrow' some rope while she kept watch; the long awaited first swing into the cold waters. I grinned at the last one. We both had our clothes on when we jumped, and as soon as we came home in the frigid February evening, we both had the worst cold ever. But it was worth it. The feeling of having this secret all to ourselves was like the time we used her sisters make-up without her permission.
We had gotten into trouble, but the sight of her shocked face was absolutely delicious. I snapped back into reality with a jolt, and took a deep breath. I swung in slow motion, feeling the stiff rope straining against the branch it was attached to. I felt the adrenaline sweep through my system when I let go. I gasped when I first hit the biting water. The water seeped in over my head, and I kicked my way back to the surface, bursting through, gasping for the warm autumn air. I looked back on the glowing banks of the lake and grinned at Becky. She waved and yelled out to me, "Nice one Gabby!" I swam over closer to the shore and watched her take a go at it. She grabbed the swinging rope and put all of her weight into the swing, and screamed when she fell to the sparkling water below. But unlike all the other times she fell, she never broke the surface of the rippling water. It was as if a great sheen of ice had built itself across the shining brilliance of the lake. She hit the water with a hard smack and slid across its slippery plane. I looked at her in wonder, to shocked to move, only treading water. At first she just sat there, confused. All the pain the fall had caused was written across her dark face. It took her a moment for her to actually notice what she was doing, but when she did, a look of shock erased any thought of pain. She stood up quickly, circling the spot where she landed.
"How are you doing that?" I had asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, to scared to speak. I was always the coolheaded one in tough situations, so I did the only thing I could think of. I ducked my head under the water and pulled on her feet. She didn't move. I pulled as hard as I could, but she wouldn't budge. I surfaced behind her. "I don't get it! It's like you standing back on the banks." Unsure of what to do, I swam back to shore, thinking quickly. I was trying to make a realistic explanation for this phenomenon. A million thoughts ran through my head, until one caught my mind's eye. Back before I went to high school, a news report I had seen on TV had brought total silence to my mother and grandmother when we were making dinner. They had stopped making the cake for my little brother's birthday, and watched the flashing screen. It showed a dolled up reporter chasing after a group of men carrying guns and bats, getting ready to create havoc. I couldn't see how she could run in such a short skirt, but she managed it. She was able to get a few words from a burly looking man carrying a shotgun. "Were gonna git rid of all them muties! Look out you freaks! We is coming to git all a ya'll!" he yelled into the microphone. She was able to pant out that the group of men was part of the F.O.H., or the friends of humanity. They were organized to clear out the country of mutants, which were capable of great things. Many were known to be in America, and Congress was working to pass a law prohibiting the use of mutant powers. She continued to talk about the law and the protest groups rioting against the unfair treatment of their fellow Americans. My mother had turned the TV off and sighed. She turned to grandma and they shared a private message using only their eyes. I cleared my throat and continued to make the frosting. We cooked in silence before my mother got enough courage to change the subject. I never did understand what they shared that night, but I figured if they wanted me to know, they would have told me. I motioned for her to join me. She tried to walk back, but nearly lost her balance with every step. I smiled at her, and she called out to me, "Shut up!"
I grinned broadly and said, "I didn't say a word."
"Yeah, but I knew what you were thinkin'!" she replied. I laughed at her, and received a fake glare in return. She eventually was able to sit beside me on the muddy banks of the lake. I picked up a rounded stone and rolled it over against my palm.
"I was watchin' the news one night when they showed a report on mutants," I said. She glanced at me and said, "So?" I looked down at the rounded, flat stone I was holding. "Well, I don't know this for sure, so don't go runnin' off saying you're a freak, but I think maybe you might have inherited the mutant gene."
She looked out across the still water, almost in a trance. We sat in silence, both off in a world of our own. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and saw her squared jaw and steady gaze. I stood up and dusted my butt of, knowing very well that mud won't come of with a light dusting. I held out my hand to her and said, "I'm not a genius at this. I very well could be wrong. Don't believe me until we talk to your parents. They'll know a lot more about this than I will." She nodded and took my hand. I helped her to her feet and she started to walk up the path, silent. I didn't know what thoughts were racing through her head, but I think I could give a good guess. I started to follow her up the path wore by our feet every summer for the past five years, but turned to look at the lake. The sun glinted over its calm surface, never showing the mind-bending events that happened today. So many memories had been built here over the years. I could feel more on the horizon, just waiting to be discovered.
Please R&R! It's only my second x-men evolution fic, so go easy!!