I DO NOT OWN LOGAN
Ten Years Ago (Fifteen Years Old)
"Come on, Laura," Rictor pleads with me as he stands in my bedroom doorway. I can tell he's losing patience with me, but I honestly couldn't care less. I told him I wanted to be left the fuck alone, but he can't even list to that. I'm laying on my bed, staring at the plain white ceiling, wondering what I'm doing with my life.
It's the anniversary of Dad's death and I told everyone that I wanted to be left alone. It's always tough this time of year and I go into this depressive state where I just contemplate my life and consider jumping off a bridge (and the funny thing is that that wouldn't kill me and I'd still have to live with myself).
"Please come with us," Rictor continues, "We're going to meet with some people that could help get us some rights so that we don't have to hide out in this place anymore." I don't listen to him. I know that nobody will listen to us. Even in Canada, where there's no laws against mutants, there's no laws that protect us, either. We don't het the same protection as normal humans, like someone could fucking kill us and nobody would bat an eye. Nothing will change. You know how I know that? Because the human species—at least non mutants—don't like those who are different. They especially don't like those who are stronger or more powerful than them. So they do everything in their power to make sure they aren't a threat. Even if that means killing them.
"I already told you that I'm not going," I tell him. "I don't give a shit where you're going. Me being with you or not won't make no difference." He scoffs and shakes his head.
"I can't believe you," he spits out. "There's a chance that we could live a normal life, and you don't even want to help us. Is this what Logan would want for you?" Anger surges through me at that moment. I'm getting tired of him and how he treats me just because I like to keep to myself. He thinks that he's better than us because he's one of the oldest in our group. I sit up and narrow my eyes at him.
"You know what, Rictor? Even if I did go with you and we somehow got mutants those rights so that we can live normal lives, who says that they'd let me have a normal life? Huh?" He seems confused, not sure what I'm getting at. I roll my eyes at him and jump out of bed to walk toward him.
"Get your head out of the fucking sand and wake up, Rictor. Sure, you may be able to get mutants the rights they deserve. But you're dumber than you look if you think that those rights would include every single one of us. They wouldn't allow me to live among humans. Not when I have six claws covered in the strongest metal in the world, possibly the universe, in my body. And what about that girl, Violet? Do you think they'd let her go free when she can kill someone with one touch of her skin? And even worse, when she has no control over it? Or you. Do you think they'll let you walk around when you can manipulate seismic energy that could cause as much damage as an earthquake?" Surprise crosses his face as if this is the first time he's thought of it.
I stop in front of him and shove him out of my room with enough force to make him stumble into the door across the hall from mine. I grab my door handle, preparing to slam it shut.
"Grow the fuck up, Rictor. You're not going to be able to save us all. We all don't have harmless mutations." I slam the door in his face and lock it, more tense than I've been in a long time.
For the past four years I've tried to keep to myself and survive. I don't bother anybody, I do my work without complaint, and I even go to "therapy" to help keep my anger issues under control. But that still isn't good enough for my friends. And I get it, they feel like I pulled away after my dad died. But how can I mourn and move on when they won't give me room to breathe? It's like they're suffocating me.
I pace around my room for a few minutes, my mind racing and my heart pounding in my chest. I had been calm and at peace before Rictor found me, and I silently curse him for winding me up again. I don't have any chores to do today and we're not supposed to go running through the woods in case a human spots us. The only way I'll be able to release any of tension building in me is to go to the makeshift gym. I usually try to avoid it because a lot of people go there on their days off and I don't like people.
But I know that if I don't do something, then I'll explode. I change into my into a pair of sweats, slip my shoes on, and make my way out of my room and to the gym which is located in the basement. There's only a few other people here, some running on treadmills, some lifting weights. I go over to the punching bags and touch the smooth, red surface. It calms me a little.
I spend a few minutes punching the bag, barely breaking a sweat. All I can think about is my dad. The look on his face when he died. His last words to me. How he came back to help us even though he didn't have to. We gave him the chance to leave. He could have just walked away and lived to see another day. But he chose to come and save us. I punch the bag harder.
He shouldn't have done that. he didn't owe us anything. He already fulfilled what Gabriela asked of him. So why didn't he just turn away?
"Who pissed you off?" a raspy voice calls from behind me. I pause what I'm doing long enough to turn around and catch the eye of the person who spoke. Blonde hair and green eyes are the first thing I notice, and then I see the rest of the picture. Violet stands before me sporting her usual long-sleeved shirt and gloves, but instead of her usual jeans, she's wearing sweat pants. Not something you usually see on someone who's planning on exercising. She usually doesn't talk to anybody, but I guess there's a first time for everything.
"What do you care?" I throw back at her. I turn back to the bag and start punching again, this time I punch harder.
"Well, I'm kinda worried about that bag. You're about to punch a hole through it and I was wondering why," she continues. I sigh loudly but keep punching.
"Just a lot on my mind. Ya know, the "meeting" the others are having today. I think it's bullshit." She nods in understanding.
"Ah. Now I get it. And, for the record, I completely understand. I know that they're never gonna give us a chance at a normal life. But… I guess the other have to try, right?" I shake my head.
"Like the mutants before us have? Look where that got them. Nowhere. We're still forced to hide." Violet's quiet for a few moments as she watches me take out my anger. After a few minutes, I punch the bag so hard that the whole stand tips over and falls to the ground. I let out a breath, feeling a little bit better, but not all the way. I go to pick the bag back up, but before I can, Violet's voice stops me.
"I'm gonna be sorry I asked this, but do you wanna spar with me? I, too, have some anger to work out." I turn and raise my eyebrows at her.
"Are you sure?" I ask hesitantly. I don't know her, but I don't want to hurt her. "I mean, I have a background in fighting. I don't want to hurt you." Violet shrugs nonchalantly as if she couldn't give a shit if she got hurt.
"The pain will distract me from all the shit I have going on in my mind." I'd be worried about what she said if I didn't feel the exact same way. I run a hand through my hair and nod.
"Okay." We move over to the large blue mats in the center of the room. I take my shoes and socks off. I look at Violet, but she doesn't do the same. She keeps her socks, shoes, and gloves on. I'm confused for a second before I remember that she doesn't know that I can heal fast.
"You can take your gloves and shoes and socks off, I don't mind," I tell her. She shakes her head.
"I mind. I don't want to kill you," she says. I give her a look.
"You won't. Promise."
"I will. Do you know what my mutation is? I've killed people before." I shrug.
"So have I." I walk up to her, grab her hand, and before she can react, I rip her glove off and then my skin is touching hers. She goes to yank her hand away, and I can tell that it's an instant reaction, that she's had to prevent herself from touching people for so long that she's not used to direct contact. But after a minute passes and I'm still standing with no visible signs of pain besides the tingling in my fingertips, Violet's eyes widen in surprise.
"You can't kill me, okay?" I look into her green eyes that have specks of brown in them and I can see the disbelief in them. I bet she had never met anyone who could touch her without some sort of barrier in between. We stay like that for a moment, and I'm not sure if I should pull away or wait for her to say something or maybe wait for her to pull away.
Finally, she pulls away and looks at her hand. Then she looks at me, her eyes still wide.
"How is this possible?" she questions me.
"I heal really fast. It's part of my mutation. So while your skin is poisoning me, my body is healing me fast enough that it won't bother me." She still looks shocked, so I decide to take this chance to change the subject and brake the ice at the same time. I grab her by her ungloved hand, and before she can react, I flip over my shoulder. She lands on the mat with a thud and she groans, but she doesn't seem mad. In fact, she seems happy. She's smiling as she stands up, removes the other glove as well as her socks and shoes. She gets into a fighting stance.
"Let's see what else you got," she taunts, and then lunges at me without holding back.
A/N: What did you guys think? Please review!
~Gina