Okay, I know it's probably been done before, I guess I'll just have to hope that it's original. This story has absolutely nothing to do with any other stuff that I've written/will write, it just kinda happened. Blame it on the geese.

*I know everyone else uses plot bunnies cos they multiply like mad, but I use geese, mainly because the idea of being savagely attacked by a flock of bunnies doesn't quite work. I guess my plots are a little too aggressive. *

Ahem. Anyway, I own nothing, nobody and, uhm, nothing. Except the plot of course. And the ideas, most of them. And Arrow (Natalie). But apart from those, nothing at all.

Now then.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Then I'll begin.

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Closing Time

In a room a girl is sat on her bed, crying. From behind her door, which is closed and locked, the sound of adult voices shouting can be heard. It should be noted at this point that the door is not locked on the inside.

The room is a mess, the usual state for bedrooms belonging to typical teenage girls. Unlike most girls' bedrooms however there are no posters on the walls, no favourite pop stars, footballers, cute animal pictures, nothing like that. Instead, one entire wall is devoted to cuttings from newspapers and magazines, some yellowy brown with age, others still fresh and white.

Looking closer we can read some of the headlines. "Mutated DNA- IS There a Cure?", "Human Evolution-The Next Generation", "My Son Walks Through Walls", all the articles are along the same theme. Some of the older cuttings are from rather dubious sources, such as The Sun, The Star and The Chronicle.

In a normal person something like this might indicate an unhealthy obsession, but the girl currently sat sobbing on her bed is clearly not a normal person.

She is sort of attractive, maybe, in general shape at least and apart from the spots. Oh, and the, uh, colouring. She has green, greasy looking skin, a sort of light emeraldy green, and long thick dark mossy green greasy looking hair. Her eyes are the most striking feature about her, however. They are amber/gold and speckled with black. They are also currently ringed with red where she's been crying.

The girl looks up as the voices downstairs stop. There is a pause, and then the door to her room is opened. A man walks in and sits down uninvited on her bed. In the dim light that filters in through the heavily netted curtains it is just about possible to see that he looks rather worried. In the doorway stands a woman who looks as if she has also been crying.

The girl deliberately doesn't look at the man as he begins to talk to her, explaining things quietly and with great care. Telling her how the rest of the family have been through a lot of stress lately, how although of course he didn't believe what the neighbours had said he still didn't think that she had acted appropriately. How she was seventeen, a young, er, woman. The benefits of having your own space, your own job, how he himself left home when he was only sixteen, how she doesn't have to leave if she doesn't want to, and more, a lot more.

Eventually he stops and looks at her expectantly. She nods, finally. Of course, he says, you'll need money, a place to stay, and of course a job, not exactly sure how much but surely- she cuts him off short. Twelve hundred she says. What? Twelve Hundred. Clearly bemused he asks her why. Because, she says in a defiantly irritated tone, it's how much I need. She waves a hand vaguely at the wall of newspaper cuttings behind her as a kind of explanation.

The man shakes his head wearily, the woman sighs. Well, so long as you don't mind carrying that much cash around with you. When would you be ready to leave? The girl glares angrily at the woman stood in the doorway and doesn't answer. She gets up from the bed and pulls from underneath the bed a smallish rucksack, stuffed almost to bursting. From a small pocket at the front she removes two rather thick envelopes that she hands to the man still sat on the bed. Give this one, she says, to Jason, and this one is for Matt. My stuffs ready packed, all I need is the cash and I'm ready to go. The woman nods slowly. Make sure you take this, the woman says suddenly, and hands the girl a mobile phone with a charger. Call us if you have any problems, she says.

You'd better go soon, the man says, looking worried again. The boys'll be back soon. The girl nods again, makes her way downstairs, picks up the cash and an extra jumper that her mother insists upon, waves goodbye.

Leaves.

All over the country, all over the world the same and similar scenes are being acted out as parents realise that they really aren't up to the task of dealing with adolescent mutants. This particular scene occurs deep within the "no-go" area of Whalley Range, Manchester, England, but it is important to remember that it could have happened anywhere, for any number of similar reasons. And it does.

**********

Closing time,

you don't have to go home,

But you can't

stay

here.

^Closing Time, Semisonic.

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Okay then, there ya go. The first chapter, all nonsensical and stuff. Please, if you have read this and formed any opinion at all about it, even if you just thought it was utter crap and should be burnt, for _sake tell me! I don't care what you say, I just want some feedback. Pretty please?

Any suggestions, corrections or objections will be duly noted, listened to and possibly acted on.

P.S. Don't worry, the next chapter will be longer.