A/N: This is just a little vignette I thought up a long time ago. Started writing it, scrapped
it, and now I'm writing it again. No real reason. Oh, and this is pre-finale, but after
Wanda comes.
----------
Slam
I did another dunk. I caught the ball and bounced it around some more before dunking a
few more times.
Slam
Slam
This is how I've spent my summer. Every day, early morning to late in the evening. I play
basketball. I never get bored of it. It kinda rejuvinates me in some way.
Slam
I'm not sure why I started. I needed something to do, something that would take me away
from the others and my frustrations. So I went to one of the old basketball courts that are
on pretty much all the corners here in the Projects. I lived here before I moved in with the
Brotherhood, so it's kinda like coming home to me.
Slam
Slam
I never play with anyone else. Always by myself on one particular lot just a few dozen
feet away from my old home, an apartment building full of thieves, liars, and actually
good people with bad luck. I lived in with a woman named Julie-Marie and her three kids,
Jonah, Marshall, and Aisha. They were my little siblings to me. It never bothered me that
they were black and I wasn't. Colors, races, and all that is less than trivial.
Slam
Slam
My mama left me there one day to be watched over, and she never came back. I was only
four, the same age as Jonah. I don't know if she abandoned me or someone took her off
the street. I never knew my dad. Don't really care anymore.
Slam
I hit another dunk. It was getting late now, later than usual. The sweat poured off me in
rivers, but I didn't care. Gangs were gonna be roaming soon, and I was on the middle turf
of a recent war. But I didn't care. When I play basketball anymore, my thoughts and
worries leave me. I'm not the Toad. I'm not a mutant. I'm just there, physically, but
mentally I'm in another world altogether.
Slam
Slam
Here in my world, or absence of one, I can vent my frustration, my anger, my pain. On
anything. Say I had a fight with Pietro the night before, or Duncan and his dumbasses
beat me up, or say it was because another mutant was shot down in the street. Big news,
things like that last one. Bounty hunters now chase us. A mutant, dead or alive, is worth a
few G's nowadays. Not a bad living for mutant haters.
Slam
My anger is what feeds my days. By sunset I'm worn, tired, aching, and almost blissful.
For a hour until I walk home I'm happy with myself and my world. Then once I walk
inside that door I'm back to being the Toad again, alone and unwanted.
Slam
Slam
I wonder whatever happened to Julie-Marie and the kids. They don't live in the building
anymore. I know, I checked. I miss them. They were my real family. Most days I skipped
school to score some cash through pickpocketing and begging just to get food on the
table. Julie didn't like it, but it was that or starve. Her ex-husband had left her with
nothing except a four year old and twin two year olds and fifty bucks. My mama used to
help her out when she could. Julie told me stories of my mama saving her from the Social
Services and with her debts. A real angel. That's why I find it hard to believe she
abandoned me.
Slam
Slam
It's dark now. I can barely see the backboard. It's a new moon-- there's gonna be another
war tonight. Maybe a death or two. I should leave, but I got so much anger still needed to
be worked out. The others wouldn't care too much. I'd be out of their way for a while.
They know I come here, but I leave them alone so they don't bother me. It's a nice trade,
for both of us. I guess this is what a Danger Room session is like. The X-Geeks complain
about 'em all the time in school.
Slam
I don't really care for any of the X-Geeks. Scott's a stiff, Jean's a bitch, Evan's too sporty
for me, Kurt's just weird, and Kitty basically screamed 'Eww!' when she first met me.
Rogue was pretty cool, but I never talk to her anymore. She was alright but had a temper
like Mystique. The new recruits I know nothing of.
Slam
Slam
Sometimes I wish I was like them, though. They have a nice big mansion, three full meals
a day, soft beds and big rooms, and people who actually care about them. Mystique don't
really give a damn about us, as she made very clear in no uncertain terms. She comes
closest to liking any of us with Wanda. Probably because she handed us our first victory.
But the rest of us are just useless.
Slam
Slam
Wanda's a mystery to me. She hides in her room or storms around with that woman. She
has a lot of pain in her, that much is obvious. Pietro explained to us their story. He
actually does care about her, but she's so blind with fury. We just keep out of it. When it
comes to family, we know nothing of it. Lance is an orphan, born into children's homes
and abusive families. Fred was left in care of one of the owners of Monster Trucks, hence
him being in the show. My story you know. Tabitha keeps her past in the past, where she
says it belongs.
Slam
I guess I didn't tell you Tabby came back. So far she's been the best at reaching to
Wanda. Well, the others and myself just stay out her way, so we don't make much
progress. But Tabby has only been Hex Absorbed once so far, and Wanda's been with us
for almost two weeks.
Slam
Slam
Uh-oh, I see a black car cruisin' the streets. I should really pack up and head home. But
here I feel safe, like nothing can harm me. It's stupid, but I don't really care. I continue to
slamdunk, feint, and pivot. I'm getting dehydrated again, so I pause long enough to down
some Gatorade I stole. I don't often, using water normally, but this was the last night of
summer vacation. Tomorrow it would be getting ready to go back to school the next day.
We were thinking of ditching, but being as bored as we were, we decided to go and wreck
some havoc.
Slam
Slam
I can't stop now. If I were to, I would collapse and never get up. Just lay there why gangs
fought, thieves stole, and mamas prayed for their sons and daughters safety. The hookers
would be out, hoping tonight they wouldn't fall victim to some freak's sadistic mind, but
knowing they needed the money to survive. Cops would be avoiding this place as much
as possible, not daring to set one foot inside the area. Drug dealers would be dealin',
buyers would be being. In this environment I kept on playing my basketball.
Slam
It was getting cold out now. It soared to almost a hundred today as usual, but here at night
it became cold. The blacktop would still be warm, but cold breezes sweep through the
city. Here in these last few days of August the tell-tale signs of fall were showing up more
and more. Up here in New York State the fall came early and fast, especially in this area.
The harbor a few dozen miles from here would keep the days warm, but the nights would
succumb to cold temperatures. And here I was, in torn jeans and a tank top. I would be
freezing soon if I didn't get going. But I didn't want to leave.
Slam
Slam
This poor ball. It has been beat against the ground for the past eighty-some days,
constantly. It's worn smooth from all of that playing. It's slippery now, from all my
sweat. I am thoroughly soaked, and I'm gonna reek when I finally stop. I hope the
showers still work at home, because contrary to popular belief, water does not make my
smell worse. It doesn't help it, but doesn't make it worse. And that's the natural stuff. A
long, hot shower would get rid of the scent of sweat. I know, it has before, to the utter
amazement of the others.
Slam
Slam
Gunshots ring out, and they sound close. But still I only pause for a moment to listen
before continuing. I just don't care about anything right now. I can't. I just have to keep
playing, or else the world will come crashing back to me. Full force and with no mercy. I
would rather die right now than be taken out of this reverie.
Slam
Perhaps that is a little extreme, but it proves my point. So I play harder. My muscles
scream at me to stop, but I ignore them and play harder still. And harder. I slam the ball
with all its worth, over and over......
Slam
Slam
Slam
I kept going harder and harder until finally, using every ounce of strength, I broke the
backboard and the rim off the pole. It splinters and crashes down beside me. I let the ball
roll away as I let myself collapse to my knees. My breathing is rough and uneven, my
muscles ache excruciating pain, my head is pounding, my heart going so fast I can't count
the beats..... And finally, I am in pure bliss.
it, and now I'm writing it again. No real reason. Oh, and this is pre-finale, but after
Wanda comes.
----------
Slam
I did another dunk. I caught the ball and bounced it around some more before dunking a
few more times.
Slam
Slam
This is how I've spent my summer. Every day, early morning to late in the evening. I play
basketball. I never get bored of it. It kinda rejuvinates me in some way.
Slam
I'm not sure why I started. I needed something to do, something that would take me away
from the others and my frustrations. So I went to one of the old basketball courts that are
on pretty much all the corners here in the Projects. I lived here before I moved in with the
Brotherhood, so it's kinda like coming home to me.
Slam
Slam
I never play with anyone else. Always by myself on one particular lot just a few dozen
feet away from my old home, an apartment building full of thieves, liars, and actually
good people with bad luck. I lived in with a woman named Julie-Marie and her three kids,
Jonah, Marshall, and Aisha. They were my little siblings to me. It never bothered me that
they were black and I wasn't. Colors, races, and all that is less than trivial.
Slam
Slam
My mama left me there one day to be watched over, and she never came back. I was only
four, the same age as Jonah. I don't know if she abandoned me or someone took her off
the street. I never knew my dad. Don't really care anymore.
Slam
I hit another dunk. It was getting late now, later than usual. The sweat poured off me in
rivers, but I didn't care. Gangs were gonna be roaming soon, and I was on the middle turf
of a recent war. But I didn't care. When I play basketball anymore, my thoughts and
worries leave me. I'm not the Toad. I'm not a mutant. I'm just there, physically, but
mentally I'm in another world altogether.
Slam
Slam
Here in my world, or absence of one, I can vent my frustration, my anger, my pain. On
anything. Say I had a fight with Pietro the night before, or Duncan and his dumbasses
beat me up, or say it was because another mutant was shot down in the street. Big news,
things like that last one. Bounty hunters now chase us. A mutant, dead or alive, is worth a
few G's nowadays. Not a bad living for mutant haters.
Slam
My anger is what feeds my days. By sunset I'm worn, tired, aching, and almost blissful.
For a hour until I walk home I'm happy with myself and my world. Then once I walk
inside that door I'm back to being the Toad again, alone and unwanted.
Slam
Slam
I wonder whatever happened to Julie-Marie and the kids. They don't live in the building
anymore. I know, I checked. I miss them. They were my real family. Most days I skipped
school to score some cash through pickpocketing and begging just to get food on the
table. Julie didn't like it, but it was that or starve. Her ex-husband had left her with
nothing except a four year old and twin two year olds and fifty bucks. My mama used to
help her out when she could. Julie told me stories of my mama saving her from the Social
Services and with her debts. A real angel. That's why I find it hard to believe she
abandoned me.
Slam
Slam
It's dark now. I can barely see the backboard. It's a new moon-- there's gonna be another
war tonight. Maybe a death or two. I should leave, but I got so much anger still needed to
be worked out. The others wouldn't care too much. I'd be out of their way for a while.
They know I come here, but I leave them alone so they don't bother me. It's a nice trade,
for both of us. I guess this is what a Danger Room session is like. The X-Geeks complain
about 'em all the time in school.
Slam
I don't really care for any of the X-Geeks. Scott's a stiff, Jean's a bitch, Evan's too sporty
for me, Kurt's just weird, and Kitty basically screamed 'Eww!' when she first met me.
Rogue was pretty cool, but I never talk to her anymore. She was alright but had a temper
like Mystique. The new recruits I know nothing of.
Slam
Slam
Sometimes I wish I was like them, though. They have a nice big mansion, three full meals
a day, soft beds and big rooms, and people who actually care about them. Mystique don't
really give a damn about us, as she made very clear in no uncertain terms. She comes
closest to liking any of us with Wanda. Probably because she handed us our first victory.
But the rest of us are just useless.
Slam
Slam
Wanda's a mystery to me. She hides in her room or storms around with that woman. She
has a lot of pain in her, that much is obvious. Pietro explained to us their story. He
actually does care about her, but she's so blind with fury. We just keep out of it. When it
comes to family, we know nothing of it. Lance is an orphan, born into children's homes
and abusive families. Fred was left in care of one of the owners of Monster Trucks, hence
him being in the show. My story you know. Tabitha keeps her past in the past, where she
says it belongs.
Slam
I guess I didn't tell you Tabby came back. So far she's been the best at reaching to
Wanda. Well, the others and myself just stay out her way, so we don't make much
progress. But Tabby has only been Hex Absorbed once so far, and Wanda's been with us
for almost two weeks.
Slam
Slam
Uh-oh, I see a black car cruisin' the streets. I should really pack up and head home. But
here I feel safe, like nothing can harm me. It's stupid, but I don't really care. I continue to
slamdunk, feint, and pivot. I'm getting dehydrated again, so I pause long enough to down
some Gatorade I stole. I don't often, using water normally, but this was the last night of
summer vacation. Tomorrow it would be getting ready to go back to school the next day.
We were thinking of ditching, but being as bored as we were, we decided to go and wreck
some havoc.
Slam
Slam
I can't stop now. If I were to, I would collapse and never get up. Just lay there why gangs
fought, thieves stole, and mamas prayed for their sons and daughters safety. The hookers
would be out, hoping tonight they wouldn't fall victim to some freak's sadistic mind, but
knowing they needed the money to survive. Cops would be avoiding this place as much
as possible, not daring to set one foot inside the area. Drug dealers would be dealin',
buyers would be being. In this environment I kept on playing my basketball.
Slam
It was getting cold out now. It soared to almost a hundred today as usual, but here at night
it became cold. The blacktop would still be warm, but cold breezes sweep through the
city. Here in these last few days of August the tell-tale signs of fall were showing up more
and more. Up here in New York State the fall came early and fast, especially in this area.
The harbor a few dozen miles from here would keep the days warm, but the nights would
succumb to cold temperatures. And here I was, in torn jeans and a tank top. I would be
freezing soon if I didn't get going. But I didn't want to leave.
Slam
Slam
This poor ball. It has been beat against the ground for the past eighty-some days,
constantly. It's worn smooth from all of that playing. It's slippery now, from all my
sweat. I am thoroughly soaked, and I'm gonna reek when I finally stop. I hope the
showers still work at home, because contrary to popular belief, water does not make my
smell worse. It doesn't help it, but doesn't make it worse. And that's the natural stuff. A
long, hot shower would get rid of the scent of sweat. I know, it has before, to the utter
amazement of the others.
Slam
Slam
Gunshots ring out, and they sound close. But still I only pause for a moment to listen
before continuing. I just don't care about anything right now. I can't. I just have to keep
playing, or else the world will come crashing back to me. Full force and with no mercy. I
would rather die right now than be taken out of this reverie.
Slam
Perhaps that is a little extreme, but it proves my point. So I play harder. My muscles
scream at me to stop, but I ignore them and play harder still. And harder. I slam the ball
with all its worth, over and over......
Slam
Slam
Slam
I kept going harder and harder until finally, using every ounce of strength, I broke the
backboard and the rim off the pole. It splinters and crashes down beside me. I let the ball
roll away as I let myself collapse to my knees. My breathing is rough and uneven, my
muscles ache excruciating pain, my head is pounding, my heart going so fast I can't count
the beats..... And finally, I am in pure bliss.