Scott's Story Ch.1 ANCHORAGE, ALASKA:

"My wife and I have decided that we want to adopt one of the older children here," said an old man around the age of 60. He was accompanied by his wife. "Yes," he continued, "If you don't mind, we'd like to see the children now."

The orphanage manager led the elderly couple into a large room that was "crawling" with children of all ages. "We have children here from the age of 5 months, to 18 years old," said the manager proudly. "Well, we want one around the age of 15, and a male as well," said the old woman.

"Uhhh, we only have 2 children here of that age," said the manager. "Ok, let's see them please," added the old man. The manager walked them to a spot about 20 ft. from a bed up against a wall in a corner. Two young boys were sitting on it, playing a game of cards. "Are those the boys you were talking about?'' asked the man. "Yes, yes they are," said the manager.

One of the boys had red hair and freckles. He appeared to be short, or at least sitting down he was. He had some acne, and he was a little bit chubby, too. His eyes were a dark shade of blue. The other boy was reasonably different. He had a neatly cut head of brown hair, and he appeared to be tall for his age. He was a little bit scrawny, but he was built at the same time. His eyes were a very beautiful brown with a hint of red in them.

"Who is the boy with the brown hair?" asked the woman curiously. She was clearly interested.
"Oh, his name is Scott Summers and he has a very sad story to accompany him," replied the manager.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, you see, when he was about eight years old, his parents, himself, and his little brother were on a plane, and they had to have an emergency evacuation out of the plane," he continued," and there were only enough parachutes for him and his brother. His parents died in the crash, and his little brother died on impact with the ground or something. He was in a coma for about a month because of the debris and when he awoke, he was sent here and has been here ever since.

"Oh that's terrible," replied the woman, tears filling her eyes. She had not even begun to speak when, all of a sudden, there was a loud scream coming from the room. The boy named Scott was screaming at the top of his lungs, clutching his face.

"AAAAHHHH!" he cried, tears streaming down his face and the cards flying to the floor.
"Somebody call an ambulance!" shouted an anonymous voice, and within minutes, the number was dialed and an ambulance was taking the young man to the hospital.

"Calm down son," said the doctor comfortingly," I need to take a good look at your eyes so we can see what the problem is, ok?"
"NO, DON'T!" was all he managed to say! A few more doctors and nurses held him down and the head doctor pried his hands from his face. The now glowing red eyes of the boy shot forth a powerful optic blast, nearly missing the heads of the doctors. From a distance of the city, the only thing that could be seen was a single red beam, blowing a hole in the top of the tall hospital building. Not a word was spoken from anyone nearby, and the one that could be heard was the sound of the young boy crying.

THE NEXT MORNING:
A bald-headed man in a wheelchair was sitting in front of a desk of one of the hospital officials. "May I please see the young man now?" The man in the wheelchair was lead past a crew of men repairing the hospital roof. Luckily, there were no casualties. He was led to a room at the end of a hallway with a steel-reinforced door.

Inside the room, the only contents were that of a hospital bed, and a single lamp with bedside table. On the bed sat the boy with the brown hair, his eyes covered with layers and layers of blue bandages. "Is, is somebody there?"
"Yes, actually."
"Who is it?" asked the boy curious to know who had come to see him after yesterday's incident.
"My name is Professor Charles Xavier, and I have a few questions for you concerning your condition," said the Professor.
"Oh..." said Scott, his hope fading.
"Don't worry about that," said the Professor, "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my first student at this school I am running called the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. There, you will not be judged by your unique gifts and that is because you are a mutant, as well as I."
"A mutant?" asked Scott.
"Yes, you see, you and I were born different and the difference is because of our mutations. We have certain abilities that normal humans do not possess."
"Well what's your 'gift'," asked Scott sarcastically as he thought about how his powers could possibly be a gift.
"I have the ability of telepathy, it's-
"- I know what that is, oh, uh, sorry."
"As I was saying, you are allowed to come live with me, you will go to the local high school, and being a mutant must be kept a secret because the world isn't ready to know about mutants yet," said the Professor, smiling kindly.
"Sure, I mean, what other choice do I have? I doubt that the orphanage would have me back, on account of what happened," said Scott, feeling very disgruntled about the whole thing.

"I have a very special gift for you," said the Professor pulling out what appeared to be a jewel-encrusted visor. "This should help you see without releasing the force blasts from your eyes." He handed the visor to Scott and he replaced them for the bandages. From Scott's point of view, everything was a deep shade of red. He could still tell what color some things were by their shade, but close enough.
"Wow! Thanks so much!" said Scott excitedly.
"No problem," replied the Professor, "But if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to New York to show you around."
"Ok, whatever you say," said Scott, cheerfully getting changed and gathering his meager belongings from the orphanage.
After checking out of the hospital, Scott was a little confused.
"Uh, Professor?"
"Yes, Scott?"
"Um, I was wondering, if being a mutant and all is supposed to be a secret to everyone, what about everyone here at the hospital?"
"Well Scott, an advantage to being telepathic is that I can go into others' minds and erase certain memories if I wanted to," he continued," Once we leave here, everyone here at the hospital will think the damage was caused by a severe storm."
"Hey, that's pretty cool," said Scott to the Professor. Under his breath he added, "That's a lot cooler than my 'gift' anyway." The Professor led Scott out to a gigantic jet in the parking lot. Beside the jet stood two very different people. One of them was an African-looking woman that had beautiful long hair, but unusually, it was white. She was tall and had very soft-looking skin. She wore what looked like a "uniform" which donned a long, flowing cape.
In contrast to the man standing next to her, you could easily see the differences. This man was very short in comparison to the woman, and his face was scruffy with long sideburns. He was wearing an orange and black "uniform" that had a hood attached to the back.

"Scott," said the Professor, breaking him out of his little trance. "I'd like to introduce you to Miss Ororo Munroe, also called Storm and Mr. Logan, also called Wolverine. They are combat teachers at the Institute, and active members of the X-men. *X-men?* thought Scott thoroughly. *Yes X- men* said a voice in his head.

"What was that?!" exclaimed Scott, clearly concerned.
*Oh I forgot to tell you, it's the Professor, I can project thoughts into the minds of others.* The Professor then told Scott all about the X-men inside of his head.
"Wow, that's pretty cool, too," said Scott; he was jealous now.
Scott was nervous about going on the plane, but he decided it was for the best anyway. These people looked like they could be trusted. (Well, maybe not the short guy, but the others, yes, they seemed ok.)
"Well, here I go," said Scott, happily adjusting his new eyewear as he stepped onto the plane that would change his life forever.