Chapter 3
Garden of Aidan
A little girl was playing in a field of wildflowers. Her red hair shimmered in the sunlight as she chased after butterflies. From a distance a woman yelled: "Aidan! Time to come home!" The little girl ran happily towards the woman's voice and a small cottage came into view. As the girl neared the cottage, her eyes began to glow red. The girl fell to her knees and covered her eyes, but it was too late: the house and its inhabitants were already ablaze. A woman's voice emerged from the burning cottage: "Aidan! Why?!"
* * *
"NNNOOOO!"
Aidan sat bolt upright in bed, sweat dripping from her forehead. Outside it thundered. Aidan's eyes glowed and the candle on her nightstand ignited. She thought that the nightmares would go away. They didn't. It seemed that every time she used her powers, the dreams would get worse... more vivid. They had started up again, after a six-year hiatus, when she exploded the pop can in the alley. That was three days ago.
"Maybe I should go see a shrink," Aidan muttered, easing back into her pillow. "That won't work... Shrink'll probably just ask me to tell how much I hate my mother... Which is the complete opposite of the problem I have here."
There was a knock on her bedroom door.
"Aidan?" a female voice called. "You ok?"
"I'm fine, George. Come on in."
Georgia Matthews, Aidan's roommate, stepped into the bedroom. George's parents were staunch anti-mutant activists. It seemed as though George was following in her parent's footsteps. On several occasions she had mentioned how mutants were a "burden to society". George was Aidan's friend only because she didn't know about Aidan's "gift".
"You sure you're all right? This is the third time this week you've scared me like this." George walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm fine. Just a nightmare." Aidan twiddled her thumbs. "Nothing much."
George gave Aidan a lopsided smirk. "Sorry, sweetheart, but people don't scream bloody murder over 'nothing much'."
Aidan shrugged. "Guess I just need to cut back on all the psycho-thrillers from Blockbuster."
"Like I couldn't sense the sarcasm there. Was it the same nightmare as the past two nights?" When Aidan didn't answer, George pushed forward. "Maybe you should talk to a psychologist. They might be able to help."
"A psychologist?" Aidan said, more rudely than she had intended. "A psychologist? Are you kidding me? A psychologist wouldn't understand!"
Aidan stood up and grabbed her mini-backpack.
"Where are you going?" George asked, sounding too maternal for Aidan's taste.
"Out."
With that, Aidan slammed the door and left George alone in the candle light.
* * *
"A psychologist..." Aidan muttered in disgust as she switched lanes on the empty street. She had changed from her pajamas -a red hoodie and flannels- to a black jumpsuit, red thigh high boots and red elbow length gloves.
"I didn't kill her," she muttered, "the lynch mob did... It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault."
As the mantra continued and the wind whipped through her hair, she began to feel better... slightly. If there was only someone for her to talk to. George, like the psychologist, wouldn't get it. Mutants don't have feelings, do they? Mutants aren't even human. She was alone.
No, wait...
She wasn't alone. There was the other fire starter. Maybe if she could find him.
Maybe... Nah. Although his attempt failed -miserably- he did try to kill her.
But he was incredibly handsome... and, man, did that boy have style. Orange hair. Who woulda thunk it? If only there was a way to talk to him. Get a name or an address or... or a date.
"Quit thinkin' that way, girl." Aidan smirked hopefully. "You're supposed to be depressed."
She couldn't help it though. Every time she thought of him she was... well... happy.
* * *
Aidan sat on a rock overlooking the town of Bayville. The sun was just beginning to rise, and Aidan still hadn't stopped thinking about the mutant with the orange hair.
"Well, it almost seemed like he was competing with me. Those horses were a challenge... even for me. He has amazing control; great skill... Hmmm."
She created a tiny fire elemental ballerina and made it dance as she thought.
How was she going to find him? It wasn't like there was a club for pyrokinetics or anything.
The 7 Eleven!
That's when she first saw him. No car, though. He had to be within walking distance of the 7 Eleven.
She waved her hand through the ballerina and it disappeared. She hopped on her bike and sped off towards the 7 Eleven.
Garden of Aidan
A little girl was playing in a field of wildflowers. Her red hair shimmered in the sunlight as she chased after butterflies. From a distance a woman yelled: "Aidan! Time to come home!" The little girl ran happily towards the woman's voice and a small cottage came into view. As the girl neared the cottage, her eyes began to glow red. The girl fell to her knees and covered her eyes, but it was too late: the house and its inhabitants were already ablaze. A woman's voice emerged from the burning cottage: "Aidan! Why?!"
* * *
"NNNOOOO!"
Aidan sat bolt upright in bed, sweat dripping from her forehead. Outside it thundered. Aidan's eyes glowed and the candle on her nightstand ignited. She thought that the nightmares would go away. They didn't. It seemed that every time she used her powers, the dreams would get worse... more vivid. They had started up again, after a six-year hiatus, when she exploded the pop can in the alley. That was three days ago.
"Maybe I should go see a shrink," Aidan muttered, easing back into her pillow. "That won't work... Shrink'll probably just ask me to tell how much I hate my mother... Which is the complete opposite of the problem I have here."
There was a knock on her bedroom door.
"Aidan?" a female voice called. "You ok?"
"I'm fine, George. Come on in."
Georgia Matthews, Aidan's roommate, stepped into the bedroom. George's parents were staunch anti-mutant activists. It seemed as though George was following in her parent's footsteps. On several occasions she had mentioned how mutants were a "burden to society". George was Aidan's friend only because she didn't know about Aidan's "gift".
"You sure you're all right? This is the third time this week you've scared me like this." George walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm fine. Just a nightmare." Aidan twiddled her thumbs. "Nothing much."
George gave Aidan a lopsided smirk. "Sorry, sweetheart, but people don't scream bloody murder over 'nothing much'."
Aidan shrugged. "Guess I just need to cut back on all the psycho-thrillers from Blockbuster."
"Like I couldn't sense the sarcasm there. Was it the same nightmare as the past two nights?" When Aidan didn't answer, George pushed forward. "Maybe you should talk to a psychologist. They might be able to help."
"A psychologist?" Aidan said, more rudely than she had intended. "A psychologist? Are you kidding me? A psychologist wouldn't understand!"
Aidan stood up and grabbed her mini-backpack.
"Where are you going?" George asked, sounding too maternal for Aidan's taste.
"Out."
With that, Aidan slammed the door and left George alone in the candle light.
* * *
"A psychologist..." Aidan muttered in disgust as she switched lanes on the empty street. She had changed from her pajamas -a red hoodie and flannels- to a black jumpsuit, red thigh high boots and red elbow length gloves.
"I didn't kill her," she muttered, "the lynch mob did... It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault."
As the mantra continued and the wind whipped through her hair, she began to feel better... slightly. If there was only someone for her to talk to. George, like the psychologist, wouldn't get it. Mutants don't have feelings, do they? Mutants aren't even human. She was alone.
No, wait...
She wasn't alone. There was the other fire starter. Maybe if she could find him.
Maybe... Nah. Although his attempt failed -miserably- he did try to kill her.
But he was incredibly handsome... and, man, did that boy have style. Orange hair. Who woulda thunk it? If only there was a way to talk to him. Get a name or an address or... or a date.
"Quit thinkin' that way, girl." Aidan smirked hopefully. "You're supposed to be depressed."
She couldn't help it though. Every time she thought of him she was... well... happy.
* * *
Aidan sat on a rock overlooking the town of Bayville. The sun was just beginning to rise, and Aidan still hadn't stopped thinking about the mutant with the orange hair.
"Well, it almost seemed like he was competing with me. Those horses were a challenge... even for me. He has amazing control; great skill... Hmmm."
She created a tiny fire elemental ballerina and made it dance as she thought.
How was she going to find him? It wasn't like there was a club for pyrokinetics or anything.
The 7 Eleven!
That's when she first saw him. No car, though. He had to be within walking distance of the 7 Eleven.
She waved her hand through the ballerina and it disappeared. She hopped on her bike and sped off towards the 7 Eleven.
