Hey there, everybody. . .well this is my first attempt at an X-Men story. . .hope it turns out as well as I thought it did. . .

X-Men doesn't belong to me. . .what a shame. . .if it did I'd kill Bobby. . .and Gambit would have shown up in the last movie. . .and I don't own The Once and Future King although it is the greatest book ever written (by T. H. White in case anyone is interested). . .

That just about concludes it for anything I might possibly have to go on and on about.

*~*~*~*

The Candle

He was an only child. He had never really had friends. "Poor Jamie," his mama always said. His mother loved him. "Just Mama and Jamie," she'd say. No Father, no Brother, no Sister. "Just Mama and Jamie is fine," he'd say. But really Jamie wanted more.

Jamie and his mother had played together when he had been little. But not anymore. Jamie was too old to play games and Jamie's mom was too busy. Jamie wanted a brother, he'd even settle for a sister. Even when his Father had been alive, his mom hadn't wanted any more kids. "One of you is more than enough," she'd said and give his a great big hug. Jamie did not agree.

But Jamie could do nothing. When he still believed a stork brought little children to their mothers he had sent away for one by any means possible; notes, letters, he even tried e-mail, which got his mother really upset because he wasn't supposed to be using the computer. But no baby ever came.

When he got a little older he learned he was going about this the wrong way. So he tried to get his mother to meet men, any men. His teachers, passing men on the street, even older students from school. His mother didn't seem to like any of them.

That was until she met Harold. He was a big man, taller than any Jamie had ever seen. And he had the biggest arms! They had to be as thick as trees. But Jamie didn't like him, and Harold didn't like Jamie. How convenient.

They got married, Jamie's mother and Harold. It was a small wedding. They had it at the city hall. Jamie's mother wasn't rich and neither was Harold. Just a couple of Jamie's mother's friends and Harold's big ogre-faced friends. None of Jaime's friends; he didn't have any.

It was after that that things started to turn funny. No brother's or sisters were forthcoming. Jamie was a bit frustrated. After all the work he had put into getting himself a sibling, still nothing. Jamie's mother still didn't have time for Jamie, only for Harold. Jamie couldn't quite remember when his father had been alive, but he knew it wasn't like this. He mom was supposed to make his lunch, kiss him good-bye every morning, and later she'd be waiting for him at school to pick him up and she'd ask him, "How was your day, honey?" He'd say, "Just great!"

But life with Harold was anything but "just great". Jamie had asked his mother once if he could get a ride over to the library to pick up a book. His mother had said no. Feeling a simple question as to the nature of this refusal was not out of line, he asked his mother "Why not?" But Harold had a different view on the matter. For the first time since he had gotten home from work at least three hours ago, Harold lifted himself slowly out of the reclining chair in front of the glow of the television.

His voice thundered above the din of the TV. Very little could Jamie remember of that exact "talk" but what came next he would remember forever. Jamie opened his mouth, finding he could take no more of Harold's rant. Before he could think better of it, considering his comparative size, he yelled right back at Harold.

"Why should I have to listen to you? You're not my father and I hate you!"

Harold's mouth set in a firm line. He was no longer angry; he was livid. Jamie watched as if in slow motion as an arm as thick as a branch swung across his face. The tingling on his cheek from the slap was nothing compared to the shock of what had just happened. Someone had hit him. His mother had never hit him, spanked him, barely even scolded him and here Harold was actually slapping him! Jamie couldn't contain himself. He threw himself at Harold and beat at his barrel-chest with small fists. Harold went wild, letting himself go completely. Before he knew it he was being buried under a flurry of hits from that tree trunk of an arm.

And so it went on for days, weeks, months. It was as if that one dam had been broken and Harold could not hold back his rage at the smallest of Jamie's transgressions. If Jamie was late coming home from school, Harold got upset. If Jamie interrupted his TV show, Harold got angry. If Jamie even breathed, Harold went into a rage. That is, until IT happened.

Harold was not happy, again. Jamie had done something wrong, again. What news was there to that? But Jamie was sure something would go right, he could just feel it.

He was going to run away. He had been planning it for weeks. Harold was just too much to live with. He would miss his mom, but in his mind, his mom was already gone. She had stopped being his mom the day Harold moved in.

During Social Studies, Jamie studied maps. During Math, Jamie calculated the money he would need to eat and travel. During English, Jamie imagined life without Harold. And tonight, he had promised himself, tonight he would make it come true.

Jamie walked in his house, not afraid to let the door slam. After all, he thought, I'm going either way. He can get angry if he likes. He dropped his school books on the table and carried his empty book bag up to his room. Into his bag, he threw some clothes, some toothpaste, and a brush. Jamie supposed if he had ever had friends this is what packing for a sleepover would have been like.

Before leaving his room, he sat down at his desk. It was too small for him now. He father had made it, hoping Jamie would like it when he got big enough to write, let alone Jamie wasn't even old enough even to sit up without help. His mama had never gotten him a bigger one, so he always hit his knees when he sat down to do homework. Jamie's hand rested on the surface, remembering all the fun he had had with his mother, back before Harold. For a moment Jamie faltered. For a moment Jamie considered staying here, in this life of pain and loneliness. For a moment Jamie would stay, just for his mother. But his mother was beyond him now. She would not care for Jamie, so Jamie must care for Jamie.

He reached a hand for a book, The Once and Future King. Hidden between its wonderful pages was not only Jamie's favorite story but all the money Jamie had saved, or snitched, for his escape. The book and money found itself in the bag, too, nestled between the cover of his clothes.

With a final look at the room that held the last eleven years of his life, Jamie walked out and shut the door behind him.

*~*~*~*

Well. . .

I tried to write something I might continue. . .I figure if I put it up and somebody reads it, the worst that can happen is everyone hates it and I have a dud on my hands.

But. . .if someone – anyone – out there shows any interest in it please let me know cause I'd like to be inspired to continue. . .I don't think I can make it on my own. . .

And if anyone has actually read The Once and Future King and can tell me why they think it ended up in the movie, I'd like to hear it. . .

Until later. . .