A simple life with simple circumstances. That's all I had. Before I figured out what I was, anyway. I was only 5 deciding whether or not to do my homework.

If I did my grade got better and the teacher would be happy.

If I didn't I could play around or go hang out with the neighbors.

I was trying to guess what would happen, to see if it was worth it. Then it happened, for the first time.

My head threw itself back, my chest pushed out, my face stuck in an expression of fear. My eyes, the burned. Then the visions came.

Flashes, as I was still inexperienced, of tomorrow.

I was at school; sometimes with my homework, sometimes without, teacher was impressed, teacher was annoyed, sometimes I made a habit of not doing homework, sometimes I never skipped out again.

My eyes filled with tears, and they leaked out quickly. Then my head relaxed, my chest fell, and my face dropped.

The tears continued to fall for what must have been hours as I sat there.

I didn't only see things, I felt them too.

I ended up doing the homework, only to burst out crying when the teacher looked at me, impressed.

The flashes continued to follow me throughout my life, usually when I was stuck between two choices.

Do I go swimming, or stay home?

Do I do extra credit, or not?

Do I call this bitch out, or not?

The flashes showed me possibilities. 10s, 100s, 1000s of things that could happen. Paths I could take and consequences of each.

Usually it was short term, but the more important the decision, the stronger I felt the further I saw.

I told no one, and attempted to make no decisions while with others.

I was 8 when they approached me. Two men, a nicer one and an impatient one.

They told me I was a mutant, and that they wanted me to come with them and train to be one of their agents.

I was stuck in between two choices.

My head thrown back, my chest puffed out, my face scared. And my eyes burned.

Flashes, but stronger and longer than even before greeted me.

Pain

Joy

Frustration

Pleasure

My eyes filled quickly with tears.

Death

Life

I knew some of their sad grim future, the future of shield. Much of could happen, much that won't.

The flashes chasing me throughout my life had matured me, given me a health dose of humility and fear.

I didn't belong in that future. Most of the time I was useless, in the wa, or barely helpful.

There were only a few paths were I was helpful. I didn't belong there, not yet at least.

My body relaxed.

The two men had their hands on their guns, and looked scared. Good.

"I refuse." My voice was strong and prominent, despite the tears flowing out of my eyes.

They backed off, but left me with a waning.

"Shield will be watching, don't make an enemy out of us." I looked at him in disgust.

"Don't make an enemy out of me."

They left me, but I took their warning to heart. I was being watched.

(*^*)

When I first realized my aging had slowed down, I was 13. When I realized it had stopped all together, I was 16.

I had some job and was working towards owning my own place. I had dropped out of school and my parents didn't approve. So I had to leave.

When I got my own place, some small, dingy apartment, I was 17.

I lived there for years, saving money and working the same boring job. I didn't make any choices, I just took orders.

Until I turned 30 and someone asked me if I was 15 years old.

I had to move.

Going out of the country wasn't an option. I bought a fake I.D to lower my legal age a to 18 and they would see right through that.

I needed to go somewhere no one cared, freaks walked around, and no one bothered to look twice.

So I moved to New York City.

I had been saving my money for years, so it wasn't a problem. Though I still got a small, dingy apartment and took some lame job. This time at a library. I restocked books. I enjoyed the honest work.

I took up some hobbies. Sewing, which I had always known how to do, book collecting, my favorite way to get with the times and easier with my current job, and drawing. I enjoyed practicing my art by sketching my flashes, and lately clips, of the many paths of the future.

Practicing my...talent had become a sort of hobby as well. It's how I learned of Emmett, anyway.

Clips of a young boy hiding in an alleyway, that I was considering taking home from work late at night, being tossed around by some guys.

Sometimes I could help, sometimes I couldn't. It's a good thing I knew what to say.

"Excuse me, is that the homeless boy?"

"What's it to ya' bitch?"

"He's who your harrasing for money?" They murmured a bit, but walked off.

"Thank you." A soft voice said. I turned towards the boy, and smiled.

"No problem/" I made to walk off but hesitated, and we all know what happens when I hesitate.

Flashes, clips, even videos of the young boy living with me, living on the streets, dead. Embracing his power, hiding, dead. Feeling loved, cursing humanity, dead.

My body relaxed and I wiped away my tears. The boy seemed surprisingly calm, but very confused.

"Are you a...mutant?" He whispered the word like he didn't want his mom to hear him say a bad word, scared of its potential.

"Are you?" I answered.

We had a staring match, but he eventually looked away.

"Wanna' come with me?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Connor."

"Emmett."