When you wake up to your alarm blaring, there are only so many ways your day can go. When you accidently destroy your alarm with your mind, your day doesn't exactly improve.
My name is Remy Grey and I'm a mutant. Freak. Thing. A fact that I've been just barely hiding for six and a half weeks. These powers have been getting more and more out of control, to the point where I'll end up hurting myself or someone else but… I can't just come out with this.
All over the news are mutants getting attacked and abused for their powers and every night my parents talk with disgust about how they should all be put to death. And I've been outcast enough in my life without this happening.
I groan and get out of bed, my parents not awake yet and the house completely still. I get dressed, make myself breakfast and reluctantly turn on the news.
"Last night two mutants, a teleporter and an ice manipulator, were murdered in their home. In other news, a local cat-" I turned off the TV with a sigh. That was it. A few words for murdered mutants and then on to some stupid feline.
I hear the upstairs creak, signaling my parents awakening. I down my orange juice, grab my stuff, and scribble a quick note about leaving early to go to the library before I head out the door as fast as I can. I'm a block away from school before I finally become aware of what's going on.
Protestors are surrounding Blue Rose High School. They all have signs blasting about the 'dangers' of mutants in schools. They're mainly made up of parents and old people, but I see a few of my classmates holding signs and shouting as loud as their lungs will allow.
I duck my head and pretend to be texting as I navigate my way through the crowd and into the door. For a second, I simply stand there and try not to panic before I head to homeroom.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
My first class is English, a class that I can skate through without interacting with anyone or doing much of anything. Today, we sit quietly and read Hamlet, a distraction I am more than happy to have. Trouble doesn't rear it's ugly head until science.
My science partner, a sophomore named Callum, and I were just mixing some chemicals. That was all. Looking at the different reactions they had to each other, wearing goggles and all that stupid safety gear.
"Ugh, these goggles are killing me," Callum groaned and slid them to rest on the top of his head. I rolled my eyes and gestured toward the front, "Don't let Mr. Anderson see you without them." I puffed up my chest and prepared to do my best science teacher impression when glass shattered.
The group next to us had dropped a beaker and a huge shard of glass was headed straight for Callum's eye. Against my will I felt my powers working. His goggles fell down from the top of his head and the glass bounced harmlessly off of them.
By the time Callum and the others had recovered from the shock, my books were in my bag and I was on my way out the door.