Tears stream down her cheek as she looks upon the moon. The sensation of warmth still on her fingers, by her fingertips. Blood laces her body as she walk the dark streets alone. Not many people are driving by, but they see her; their eyes almost popping out of their skulls.

Blood all over a young woman, walking down the street. Sirens were heard in the distance. She stopped, her knees buckling underneath of her, her body falling to the ground with a loud, echoing thump.

Flames come from her fingertips, engulfing her father's fist in the air. Tears stream down her cheek with bruises and blood (old and new) getting in the way. Her father looks to his hand, not feeling the flames. "What the hell is this?" He screamed, waving his hands around, trying to extinguish them. He falls to the ground, rolling around. He looks to his victim; his daughter. "I will fucking kill you, if you do that again…" He knew it was her. She always had that kind of power. He grabbed a piece of wood on the floor, and swung at her; hitting her back and throwing her to the floor, almost unconscious. He threw down the wood and began to kick her. "Burn me now, bitch…"

She didn't remember anything after that. All she knew was that she woke up, the house burnt to a crisp and her fathers ashes beside her. She knew it was him, because his wedding ring was buried in the dark dust. She knew it, she just didn't know how. She didn't try to use her many powers, as they were rapidly racing out of control. She had already burnt the school down, costing 2 of her teacher's lives. She had almost killed herself when her father had come in with his fists flying.

She reopened her eyes, and turned on her back. The sky, so beautiful during the night. The stars were like eyes watching her, not doing anything to help nor save her. She just wanted to die.

The world would be a better and safer place if I was gone. She thought to herself. She closed her eyes, hoping someone would just come along and kill her. Shoot her in the head, stab her in the heart… Anything, anything at all. She closed her eyes, hoping she would never wake up again.

She woke up in someone's arms. She couldn't speak, couldn't move. She slowly opened her eyes, looking up to see who this person was, hoping it was a caped skeletal figure with a bloody scythe in his fingers. But no, it was a white man. His hair was rough, his eyes focused on the girl in his muscular arms. He looked down and smiled. His eyes were like crystals, smiling with the white light that reflected from the artificial light. She looked up, realizing that she was now in a building. She looked back to him, as he pushed her head to his chest. His heartbeat, luring her back into unconsciousness.

"Ana!" Her mother called. "Ana, get the fuck up!" Her mom yelled up the stairs.

Ana jumped up, her eyes open and ready. Her hands up covering her face. She looked around, realizing he wasn't around. She moved the sheets from her and rubbed her eyes.

"Good Morning, Ana…" His voice came from behind the door. She jumped hearing it once again. The voice that haunts her dreams; haunts her thoughts. She fixed her voice from even the slightest hint of fear.

"Good Morning, Dad…" She said, almost like a whisper as she got dressed.

Anxiousness raised in her stomach. What would he do when she went downstairs? What did he tell Mom? What will Mom do if she told her? Ana looked in the mirror, her face nothing but bruises. She grabbed her powder foundation and started to put it on.

"Wake up…" She felt someone's touch once more. "Wake up," they said again, patting her bruised cheek gently.

She slowly reopened her eyes, and saw a woman hovering over her. Her eyes were green, her hair dark crimson. "Sleeping beauty," she laughed, reaching behind her.

Thoughts raced through her mind. "Where am I?" She whispered.

"Somewhere safe." Her voice was soothing, even when she put the needle to her vein. "You'll feel better, I promise." She closed her eyes, feeling the cold metal touch her naked back. She pushed herself up, holding the white sheets close to her body, holding it to cover her breasts. The woman walked over to a closet, and opened the door grabbing some clothes. "Here you go," she said, handing it to her. "Get dressed."

She left the room, and Ana slowly crept from the metal examination table. She put them on and looked across the room to a mirror. She slowly walked over to it, grabbing her cheeks. Cuts, bruises, and lacerations.

How can that woman say I am beautiful? Ana asked herself, disgusted with her beaten appearance.

"Because you are…" The woman said, reading her mind. She smiled, walking over to her. "I am Dr. Jean Gray… Nice to meet you, Ana. I am glad you are awake… I would like you to come with me. Someone has been waiting to meet with you."

Ana hesitated, but looked into her eyes. She felt better looking. They were the windows to the soul… Jean's seemed very forthcoming, honest, and peace loving. "Alright." She nodded.

She followed her along the chrome hallways, her bare feet hitting the black tile hard, making the sounds echo. Jean turned around, smiled and stood by a door hitting a huge button. The wooden door opened and behind it was a classroom. A professor was speaking to a group of kids, who were now looking at her with great wonder.

"Ah, Ana… You are awake. Welcome."