I am Artemis Rose Diaz and yes, I am a mutant. I was born to Jorge and Rose Diaz. My father was a a immigrant from the Dominican Republic who came as a teenager seeking education. My mother was a drug addict. They fell in love, my mom changed her ways, they moved in together, and lived happily ever after. That was, until I was born.
My mother had a very challenged birth. They named me Artemis, after the Greek goddess of the hunt and my father's favorite of the gods (he studied them in college). Soon, though, my mother died. My father fell into a deep pool of depression, and committed suicide when I was a week old. Only days after my mom's funeral. So here I was, an infant and an orphan. My very Hispanic Grandmother finds me and took me in. But that's not where my story begins.
Every story has a beginning, and mine is my first day of high school.
I roll around in bed. Pieces of my brown hair fall into my face as I fight my alarm to turn off. My head throbs, I figure It's from reading till 3:30 last night. I never thought anything different.
I get dressed and make my way to breakfast, where Abuela, gray hair, kind brown eyes, dark skin, and a collection of interesting frocks, is making toast.
"Are you ready for school, Mi querida?" she asks.
"Yes, Abuela," I say.
"You are always so eager to learn. I am so proud of you!" she embraces me before handing me my breakfast and allowing me to go out the door of our small apartment in the outskirts of Manhattan.
I just get to the bus stop in time. My best friend, Mia waves to me.
We grab hold of our seats in the back of the bus as the Driver, a middle-aged man with a thick neck, gray mustache, and very thick glasses, speeds onto the freeway.
But surviving the bus isn't my power. No, my powers don't come until after I already had Algebra 1, Pre-Chemistry, Literature, and Lunch. It's not until Gym I learn I am not like the rest.
"I hate Gym," Mia, red hair, dark eyes, pale skin, and a skill of knowing exactly what shoes to wear for every occasion, says. I hated gym too. But not for the same reason as her. Mia doesn't like to get sweaty. I don't like humiliating myself. I'm not athletically inclined.
We enter the girls locker room full of naked skinny minis with breasts the size of melons spilling out of their bras. If highschool wasn't intimidating enough, now we have freaking Covergirls to flash their overly large amount of cleavage and waxed legs around to attract boys into their beds. And yes, we're still freshmen.
Mia, who has no issue with her body, stays with the rest, but I slip to the other side of the lockers to change into the School's gym clothes, (a pair of maroon shorts and a white, school T-Shirt.) I catch myself in the mirror, dark brown hair, darker eyes, pimply skin, glasses, and a 5'3 body with too much meat. I try to suck in the pudge, but to no result. My stomach just won't lay flat.
Coach Sanders, has run a lap around the gym to warm up. By the end, I'm winded and have a stitch in my side. Then she assigns us to teams so that we can play basketball I'm put with six other Freshman who have succeeded in the social game with their expensive shoes and phones. One of which is a boy named Connor Christy, who was my friend up until last year when his dad won the lottery. He quickly went up the ranks and now hangs out with kids like Stephanie Thomson, and Angelica Starr.
Another thing I hate about gym class is that my aim is always way off. So of course I'm expecting to miss the basket when the ball gets to me.
But as I get ready to aim, something weird happens. My headache turns into a strange tingling that starts in my head and quickly works its way to my arms. At first I think I'm having some type of stroke. I throw the ball, and it doesn't even hit the backboard.
It goes straight into the basket.
I look down at my hands as the tingling stops. I'm somewhat aware of someone, maybe Coach Sanders, commenting on my throw. But my mind grows hazy.
The last thing I remember is hitting the waxed floor.
…
I wake up in the nurse's office. My headache had started again, and as I sat up, my head spun.
"How do you feel?" someone asks.
A woman with a deep red hair tied back in a knot, vibrant green eyes, a red shirt and black skirt stands next to the examination table. She wasn't the nurse who gave us "the talk" last year in 8th grade. She was new. Not as beaten down and in her late sixties like the last one.
"Okay, I guess," I mumble. My head still hurts, but I figure passing out was just because of the vigorous exercise. I still was very winded after the run.
"I'm Dr. Grey," she sits on the spinny stool by the table.
"Artemis," I say.
"I know." Of course she knew, she probably knows everything about me from my school records. My blood type, family history, even panty size if she examined me hard enough. "I called your grandmother."
Guilt bubbles up in my stomach. Abuela doesn't have enough money to pay for gas so she doesn't have a vehicle. If she was coming to pick me up, she'd have to take a taxi, and those aren't cheap.
My head spun again, and bring my fingertips up to massage my temples. "I'll be okay," I say.
"Artemis, listen to me," Dr. Grey says, "We don't have much time. The MRD is already tracking you down. But listen, What happened to you in the gym wasn't a freak incident. You are changing. Evolving if you will."
And the new school nurse is nuts. I raise my brow, "Evolving? Like Darwin and that crap?"
" I suppose yes, like Darwin. Artemis You are a mutant."
A mutant. "Like the Ninja Turtles?" I ask. I scan the room for the door. If I had to I could jump around her to get out.
"Funny, but no. You're special, and there is a school to help you control your powers."
"Powers?! You're saying I'm some type of Super hero?"
She swears under her breath, "sorry, I'm rushed. I suppose to get you out by 1:30 and it's 1:25, but yes. The headmaster of the school, Professor Xavier, sensed you last night and sent me to retrieve you."
I slide off the table and go behind her, she just watched me with a careful eye, "You can just tell this Professor what ever his name was, that I don't believe this bullshit and I'm going to Spanish class." I keep taking careful steps, soon I'm at the door.
With a loud crash, the ceiling caves in.
to be continued...?
AN: what do you think? Is it worth continuing? This idea has been on my mind for awhile, and I'm looking forward to writing this, but I don't want to if no one's interested. Please let me know what you think. Anyway, I'm hoping to upload a chapter at least every other week, alternating with my other story, the dark Phoenix rises. (A little self promotion there. Lol) after I get use to my new schedule, I may upload more. But anyway, Hope you all like this story. Cheers!