Author's Note: Hey, this is my first story up on this site. Please review. :)
Italics are thoughts.
Italics that are bold are events that happened in the past.
Set after Alcatraz.
Chapter one- Mutant
He staggered in the dark depths of the ally. He dropped down on his bruised knees and looked up towards the abyss-like night sky. He didn't notice the revolting odor and the rats around the trash bins, he just blinked up towards the Heavens. The rain was coming down hard and he didn't feel the piercing needles that dropped on his faced and slid down to his worn out clothes. He put his hands on his face and started rubbing away the dried wine blood and bits of dirt. He gave a startle hiss as removed his hands from his face as he examined his finger. There was a piece of shredded glass that had cut into his skin as he continued looking at his bleeding finger quizzically, before removing it. His hands were shaking as he detached the broken wrist igniters from his writs. The igniters fell down with a cling that made the rats scatter away into their so called homes. He put his hands down on the grimy cement ground as he hung his head low to try to level his breathing. He fuzzily thought what happened the night before: Most of the mutants from the Brotherhood had been killed, Magneto is now one of them who he despises, and of course everyone's favorite intelligent charming Popsicle boy, Drake, had cost him a great deal of humiliation for losing against a pathetic X-man.Drake was as good as dead to him now, just like the rest of the X-men. John pushed his palms off the cement floor as he got up slowly and wobbled his way out of the ally by support from the filthy graffiti walls. He rubbed his dirty hands on his now drenched leather coat as he made his way to a bus stop at a cripplingly slow pace. He grabbed onto the bus stop sign to brace himself. He put his other hand in jeans pocket and felt the cool metal Zippo against his fingers. His eyebrows knitted together as he wore a cunning smirk on his face. His eyes didn't feature the oncejuvenile teenager St. John Allerdyce, but a young heartless fire manipulator Pyromaniac.
She sat alone at vacant park. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her frame as the whistling wind blew the lifeless leafs off the trees and onto the playground sand. It was late and there was no one insight. She inspected the bench she was on and started kicking at the sand in frustration. She found herself remembering the events that had taken place a few days ago. She recalls eavesdropping on her parents when her name got mentioned in conversation.
(Flashback)
"She can't be like them, Peter, she's my daughter, " said the older woman to her husband, in a hushed voice.
"Honey, but you saw what she is cable of."
"Well, that boy has been on her case ever since we moved here. He had it coming."
She found herself peaking a look at her parents from hallway. There was worry sketched over her mother's face as she sat down on the couch. He father seemed angry and hurt as he started pacing in the living room, trying to find something else to get his attention.
"Peter, we can't-"
" What will the neighbors say, Linet!?" he yelled suddenly, as he stopped pacing and looked down at his teary-eyed wife.
"Mr. Sullivan has been claming that he saw something, but I kept on telling him it's his old age and how he should consider seeing an eye doctor."
Her mother started crying as her husband reached for the tissue box on the ancient coffee table. He handed it over to his wife as he sat down next to her. He put his arm around her as she buried her face in his chest and wept. He rubbed her back in circles; whispering that 'everything will be alright.'
"How-what will we do about William?" She said, as she gazed up towards her husband. He stopped rubbing her back and looked at her.
"He will ask all a lot of questions about his sister…I can't lie to him!"
"Listen, Linet,"he said soothingly, as he cupped her face and wiped away her stray tears, "we have no choice."
"We'll make something up. She just needs to go away for a while so it'll give us and her time to think."
(End of Flashback)
She is angry that one rash accident changed her parents' view of her. She is still their same old loving and humorous daughter, Gwyneth, but with mutant abilities. She looks down at her hands and is disgusted of what she is capable of doing. How in the world could this happen to her? She was the only freak in her family. She left her little brother without telling him where she was going. Her friends, is she ever going to see them again? She feels a small pang of dejection somewhere deep down, they will never accept her. Gwyneth glances around the gloomy park; doesn't make one sound. She lies down on the bench and puts her duffle bag underneath her head. It is getting colder as she wrapped her arms around her chest and tried to fall asleep. There are no sounds around her, just a deep, disturbing quiet. And the night sky is cloudless and starless and covered over with a black sheet.
A/N :Should I continue?