A/N- this is my new story with a twist. I am trying new narrative styles; tell me if it works and if you all like it! The book Memoirs of A Geisha by Arthur Golden inspired the new style, and I hope that it sounds ok. Read and Review please!
Memoirs from the Mutant Wars
To look at me now you would think that I had been born and bred as a mutant, and that I had always known that I was one, you couldn't be more wrong. At a mere glance my life appears perfect. I had a beautiful husband, successful children and a vast network of friends. No one would ever tell you any different because we don't like to talk a lot about our past. After all, everyone who needs to know lived it or was told. This is one of the few times that I have told my story.
Older people tell you all the time that meeting one person, or one event was the worst and the best thing in their life, I am about to tell you that as well. Well meeting Lance Alvers was that fateful experience that is both bad and yet good. Let me explain this more simply, Lance is the only reason that my powers were exposed when they were.
I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I never loved him and that it wasn't love at first sight, at 15 anything is possible. I did love Lance, and a part of me always will. After all no one is purely evil no matter what the actions they go through with suggest.
In Illinois when I was growing up there isn't much to say. I was an average human girl. We heard rumors of people with psychic powers and we had people come in with fairs that would 'tell your future.' No one believed that little Kitty Pryde would ever associate with 'the likes of those people.'
My parents supported me in anything that I chose to do. I was a cheerleader when I was little and then I moved on to dance and gymnastics, where being small and agile would definantly become good attributes. I was normal until high school. I was never very popular and though I thought that I was pretty I could never seem to attract the guys that I wanted to. They all went for the preppy cheerleaders.
I was at the stage that every teenager goes through when they feel that no one cares and that nothing matters. At the end of first semester when our cumulative GPAs came out my parents were thrilled and made plans to take me to New York over Spring Break as a reward. My cumulative was a 4.6 on a 4.0 scale. My parents were so happy. It didn't matter to me though, I just went to school, and semi paid attention and managed to get almost perfect grades. No one knew how lonely I was inside. Then Lance came into my life.
I don't know if I had never seen him before or if I had just never paid attention, but one day at school I just woke up and saw him, there is no other way to describe it. He looked exciting and I wanted to impress him. I thought that maybe my life would pick up if I could get into his crowd, he was definantly a rebellious boy and his hair and attire proved it, but I knew that I couldn't let my parents find out, my grades would have to stay up in the process.
It didn't take long to figure out his name, but weird things started to happen. I was waking up in the mornings downstairs, and sometimes in the basement. I didn't let my parents on to that either. I just thought that I was sleepwalking down there at night. I never saw my blankets hanging through the ceiling as my parents would a few weeks later after I had become accustomed to the idea of sleepwalking.
The morning that I finally figured out what was happening was normal. I got bullied by the cheerleaders and was shoved and locked into a locker. This was routine though. They always did it before gym and told the gym teacher that I was sick and in the Nurse's office. The gym teacher thought that I was truly sick, looking back I think that she thought that I had cancer or something because when I always showed up I was winded and looked like I had been through a train wreck, the janitors don't go down the hallways very often, so I could be in there a few periods.
One day something happened that was different. I fell through the locker door and right onto Lance Alvers, the resident bad boy who I was trying so hard to impress. He had been spray-painting the lockers with red spray paint and now had a red line across his face. I think that you all can assume the rest from there.
The move to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and the change to living in New York was the first of many changes for me as a mutant. I never knew that mutants existed, and definantly not in the numbers that we would later increase to.