Ok, so now I'm going to jump ahead a month to keep y'all from being bored
out of your minds. I really appreciate the reviews I've gotten so far,
please let more come!
************************************************************************
(NPOV)
"Milana? Are you awake?" Ororo called. Then, remembering that she wouldn't get an answer, she opened the door a crack and peered in. Milana was indeed looking more alive than Ororo, dressed in her usual baggy jeans and T- shirt. She still didn't wear shoes, her furry feet seemed tough enough to withstand anything sneakers or boots could.
"Are you coming down for breakfast?" Ororo asked. Milana shrugged, and Ororo could tell that she was in one of her moods. They didn't come that often, once every couple of days, and they were reasonably short. Milana would be lost in thought, and it was unusual for her to give any sign of life other than a shrug or little nod of her head.
The professor had told everyone in the school to be tolerant of Milana's silence when some of the other students had complained about not being ably to talk to her when they had tried to become friends with her. Ever since the night a month ago when she had had a minor breakdown she had become even harder to talk to, and it was hard for the kids in the school to get used to it.
Milana had started classes, and though her hand never raised and she never answered a question or read a report aloud she was receiving top marks, she was extremely smart.
Another surprising discovery was her ability to fight in hand-to-hand combat, though she hated the Danger Room almost no one could beat her if she was forced to enter it. Even Logan had to admire her skills the day he was picked up and thrown against a wall so hard he was knocked unconscious for a little bit.
So Milana had taken on the name Ghost, the students own doing entirely. When asked by an adult on why this had become her nickname the answer was always the same; "'Cause she haunts this place, she doesn't talk and have you fought her in the Danger Room?"
The only people Milana seemed to react to was Ororo and Kurt, Kurt for the reason they felt connected, though neither knew how, and the teen had taken an instant liking to Ororo, or at least as much of a liking that you could tell with her.
"Well, just don't be late for the Danger Room, you haven't been there for a week and you know the agreement," Ororo said, closing the door as she left. The agreement had been that as long as Milana took at least one Danger Room class a week she was pardoned from all others, and any other classes that involved fighting or a lot of physical activity.
"Vell, is she alright?" asked a voice behind Ororo as she walked down the hall. Kurt appeared at her side as she sighed.
"She's in one of those moods again," she replied. Kurt's face fell slightly.
"That's three times this veek, I vonder if something's bothering her more right now." He said sadly. Ororo nodded.
"If only we could get her to talk..." she said.
(Milana's POV)
"If only we could get her to talk..." I heard that, Ororo. I thought you understood me, I can't talk! If I did, what would happen? I might start talking about my past, and I can't do that. What would I say? Oh, well, because I was born and kept alive my mother was blown to bits and I was dragged off to be a pet, slave, and punch bag? Yeah, that would be easy.
I was in 'one of those moods' again, I know what they say. Seems when I'm not being kicked every other second I have a better sense of hearing and smell. Much better, in fact. Even though Ororo and Kurt were walking down the stairs at the end of the hall I could hear them if my door was open and I strained. I like to know what's being said about me, gives me some comfort knowing what people think the Ghost is up to.
Ghost, what a dumb nickname. Though I suppose it's better than 'the Wolverine', that makes the man sound like a mix of a shrew and a gorilla in my opinion. Which he acts like most of the time. For that reason and the lack of any other ideas for a decent nickname I guess Ghost is alright. Haunting the school, great impression Milana.
I can talk, but since my little episode when I first got to the school I've been careful not to so much as grunt or sigh out loud, it may begin the legend of the Ghost-who-never-said-anything-until-the-day-she-spilt- her- guts-all-over-the-living-room-floor. That would be all I need.
I'm a freak at a school for freaks, the last thing I need to do is become the basket case freak at a school for freaks, I'm weird enough already.
Amazing what you can learn in a month, isn't it? For example, I learned there are more mutants then you could ever hope to meet, there is a maniac mutant trying to kill all humans, the X Men are the terrorists, vandals, and devils you often see on TV saving everyone's asses while they get the killer mutant to stop killing humans. That's very ironic, I think. Almost as ironic as me being the only ghost (usually thought of as a half-real phantom that can't hurt anybody, a dead person's soul) to throw Logan, the Wolverine, across a room.
Once he was back among the living (no pun intended) he asked me why I hated to fight, telling me I was one of the best hand-to-hand combat fighters he had seen. I starred at him, and the man was intelligent enough to recognize the stare as an annoyed one and dropped it. I may be a good fighter, but I hate it. I have scars all over me, almost all of them from hand-to-hand fighting against a bunch of men in the bar, after they've gotten drunk and on one of the rare nights that situation didn't lead to going upstairs.
I have many scars on my body, especially my back, one of my owners had a soft spot for whips and enjoyed using them on me every chance he got. I've been shot a couple times, and met death at least a dozen more. Unfortunately for me I always managed to come back, but that was more of unconscious will power then my desire to live, had my rational brain been working any of those times I would have certainly chosen death. But the worst scars were on my level of thinking. I have no idea on whether or not I would have been stronger had I not been captured so young, but it doesn't matter.
I am now a mute, I've lost two very close friends at the hands of my captors (both mutants like me, unfortunately they were brave enough to stand up against the men at the bars). Screen had been shot in the head, and because I was standing behind her I was covered in her brains and bits of skull, I don't think I'll ever recover from that. Juniper got stabbed in the stomach as I watched while being held down by three men. My mother had been blown to bits while shielding me from the blast of the grenade some idiot threw into our house. I've seen other mutants and mutant sympathizers being killed by bombs, knifes, and guns all the time.
The longest I ever managed to stay hidden from the haters in the nine attempts I made was two days, but they caught me sleeping in a church. That was another one of those near death things again.
I hear lots of things about me, rumors about where I come from, why I don't talk, my 'hidden' powers. It's all mostly rubbish that the other students came up with to explain my behavior, seems most kids open up more when they come to this school, and I had only 'shut down', in the words of Hank. No one understands my silence, and the teachers are constantly dropping me little hints about how opening up and saying something may be the best thing for me to do. I think their just tired of never hearing me give reports in class.
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************
Yes yes, short boring chapter, that was just to sorta catch you up on her 'condition, which at this time is totally pathetic. Ha ha, now I'm making fun of my own characters. Great. Well, I have to stop writing after one o clock in the morning, I can't do anything worthwhile. See y'all later.
************************************************************************
(NPOV)
"Milana? Are you awake?" Ororo called. Then, remembering that she wouldn't get an answer, she opened the door a crack and peered in. Milana was indeed looking more alive than Ororo, dressed in her usual baggy jeans and T- shirt. She still didn't wear shoes, her furry feet seemed tough enough to withstand anything sneakers or boots could.
"Are you coming down for breakfast?" Ororo asked. Milana shrugged, and Ororo could tell that she was in one of her moods. They didn't come that often, once every couple of days, and they were reasonably short. Milana would be lost in thought, and it was unusual for her to give any sign of life other than a shrug or little nod of her head.
The professor had told everyone in the school to be tolerant of Milana's silence when some of the other students had complained about not being ably to talk to her when they had tried to become friends with her. Ever since the night a month ago when she had had a minor breakdown she had become even harder to talk to, and it was hard for the kids in the school to get used to it.
Milana had started classes, and though her hand never raised and she never answered a question or read a report aloud she was receiving top marks, she was extremely smart.
Another surprising discovery was her ability to fight in hand-to-hand combat, though she hated the Danger Room almost no one could beat her if she was forced to enter it. Even Logan had to admire her skills the day he was picked up and thrown against a wall so hard he was knocked unconscious for a little bit.
So Milana had taken on the name Ghost, the students own doing entirely. When asked by an adult on why this had become her nickname the answer was always the same; "'Cause she haunts this place, she doesn't talk and have you fought her in the Danger Room?"
The only people Milana seemed to react to was Ororo and Kurt, Kurt for the reason they felt connected, though neither knew how, and the teen had taken an instant liking to Ororo, or at least as much of a liking that you could tell with her.
"Well, just don't be late for the Danger Room, you haven't been there for a week and you know the agreement," Ororo said, closing the door as she left. The agreement had been that as long as Milana took at least one Danger Room class a week she was pardoned from all others, and any other classes that involved fighting or a lot of physical activity.
"Vell, is she alright?" asked a voice behind Ororo as she walked down the hall. Kurt appeared at her side as she sighed.
"She's in one of those moods again," she replied. Kurt's face fell slightly.
"That's three times this veek, I vonder if something's bothering her more right now." He said sadly. Ororo nodded.
"If only we could get her to talk..." she said.
(Milana's POV)
"If only we could get her to talk..." I heard that, Ororo. I thought you understood me, I can't talk! If I did, what would happen? I might start talking about my past, and I can't do that. What would I say? Oh, well, because I was born and kept alive my mother was blown to bits and I was dragged off to be a pet, slave, and punch bag? Yeah, that would be easy.
I was in 'one of those moods' again, I know what they say. Seems when I'm not being kicked every other second I have a better sense of hearing and smell. Much better, in fact. Even though Ororo and Kurt were walking down the stairs at the end of the hall I could hear them if my door was open and I strained. I like to know what's being said about me, gives me some comfort knowing what people think the Ghost is up to.
Ghost, what a dumb nickname. Though I suppose it's better than 'the Wolverine', that makes the man sound like a mix of a shrew and a gorilla in my opinion. Which he acts like most of the time. For that reason and the lack of any other ideas for a decent nickname I guess Ghost is alright. Haunting the school, great impression Milana.
I can talk, but since my little episode when I first got to the school I've been careful not to so much as grunt or sigh out loud, it may begin the legend of the Ghost-who-never-said-anything-until-the-day-she-spilt- her- guts-all-over-the-living-room-floor. That would be all I need.
I'm a freak at a school for freaks, the last thing I need to do is become the basket case freak at a school for freaks, I'm weird enough already.
Amazing what you can learn in a month, isn't it? For example, I learned there are more mutants then you could ever hope to meet, there is a maniac mutant trying to kill all humans, the X Men are the terrorists, vandals, and devils you often see on TV saving everyone's asses while they get the killer mutant to stop killing humans. That's very ironic, I think. Almost as ironic as me being the only ghost (usually thought of as a half-real phantom that can't hurt anybody, a dead person's soul) to throw Logan, the Wolverine, across a room.
Once he was back among the living (no pun intended) he asked me why I hated to fight, telling me I was one of the best hand-to-hand combat fighters he had seen. I starred at him, and the man was intelligent enough to recognize the stare as an annoyed one and dropped it. I may be a good fighter, but I hate it. I have scars all over me, almost all of them from hand-to-hand fighting against a bunch of men in the bar, after they've gotten drunk and on one of the rare nights that situation didn't lead to going upstairs.
I have many scars on my body, especially my back, one of my owners had a soft spot for whips and enjoyed using them on me every chance he got. I've been shot a couple times, and met death at least a dozen more. Unfortunately for me I always managed to come back, but that was more of unconscious will power then my desire to live, had my rational brain been working any of those times I would have certainly chosen death. But the worst scars were on my level of thinking. I have no idea on whether or not I would have been stronger had I not been captured so young, but it doesn't matter.
I am now a mute, I've lost two very close friends at the hands of my captors (both mutants like me, unfortunately they were brave enough to stand up against the men at the bars). Screen had been shot in the head, and because I was standing behind her I was covered in her brains and bits of skull, I don't think I'll ever recover from that. Juniper got stabbed in the stomach as I watched while being held down by three men. My mother had been blown to bits while shielding me from the blast of the grenade some idiot threw into our house. I've seen other mutants and mutant sympathizers being killed by bombs, knifes, and guns all the time.
The longest I ever managed to stay hidden from the haters in the nine attempts I made was two days, but they caught me sleeping in a church. That was another one of those near death things again.
I hear lots of things about me, rumors about where I come from, why I don't talk, my 'hidden' powers. It's all mostly rubbish that the other students came up with to explain my behavior, seems most kids open up more when they come to this school, and I had only 'shut down', in the words of Hank. No one understands my silence, and the teachers are constantly dropping me little hints about how opening up and saying something may be the best thing for me to do. I think their just tired of never hearing me give reports in class.
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************
Yes yes, short boring chapter, that was just to sorta catch you up on her 'condition, which at this time is totally pathetic. Ha ha, now I'm making fun of my own characters. Great. Well, I have to stop writing after one o clock in the morning, I can't do anything worthwhile. See y'all later.