Well. . .I'm back. . .and so is another chapter! Everything is going along nicely at the moment. . .I've got a semi-plan, which is a first for anything I've ever written. . .plans and me don't mix well. . .but who knows. . .maybe a semi-plan is broad enough to work.
Ya know it's sad. During Physics I sit there and get completely bored and all this stuff comes to me and then I go home and by the time I get there. . .my head is empty. Completely and Utterly Empty. Perhaps it's time to invest in paper and pencil.
Once again I am here to not claim X-Men for all those who doubt. Rogue would have poofy hair if I had my way. . .Goth Rogue is not too bad. . .but Bobby and Phoenix must die. Another note: Bruce sans Pité is a meanie-head knight who went around killing damsels and knocking knights off their horses without any sort of proper challenge. Perhaps you see the parallel.
That is all. Thank you. Have a nice day. Or night. Whichever.
*~*~*~*~*
- Bruce Sans Pité
Jamie walked out and shut the door behind him. Only to come face to face with the ogre. Harold.
"Well, hello there James. How was your day?"
Jamie didn't respond. Any answer would be wrong.
"What was that? I'm sorry I didn't hear?" Harold had a somewhat twisted grin on his face. "Perhaps you'll have to speak up."
"I didn't say anything, Harold."
Jamie was right. Anything that came out of his mouth was just a reason to set Harold off.
"Don't talk to me like that, boy! I'm your father." Harold grabbed Jamie by the coat. "And where are you going?"
"I was going to take a walk, Harold." Jamie tried to look calm. It wouldn't be good to trip up the Harold-lie-detector. "If you would please excuse me, it is a nice day out."
Harold seemed to be about to open his mouth once more when Jamie's mother appeared. She walked over to her son and, with a far-away expression, smoothed down his hair, a small smile playing on her lips as if caught in memories. She turned to Harold, placing her hand on his, her light touch drawing away his attention. Harold's grip on Jamie's collar loosened before both forgot Jamie was standing next to them. Jamie took the chance to slither down the hall and out the door, this time carefully placing the door back so it wouldn't alert them to his missing presence.
Jamie reached into his bag and pulled out a map. It was fresh and crisp, unlined and untravelled. Only a large X marked his home; Old Town, Maine. Eight states away lay freedom, eight states away and a very long bus ride. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Inside the map was a folded envelope bearing a Christmas card, now at least two years old. But what Jamie was concerned with was the address. His Grandmother, who he hadn't seen since his father's funeral nearly six years ago, had always seemed like a nice person. Perhaps once she heard his story, she'd let him stay with her. But anyone, anywhere had to be better than Harold.
Jamie looked over his shoulder one last time at the house. "It's now or never, Jamie," he said and took the first steps on the path to the rest of his life.
After walking over an hour to the bus station in the next town, Jamie finally reached safety. Harold could not reach him here. He was too clever for that oaf. He was Jack, scrambling down the beanstalk, while the giant stumbled about, stupidly searching for him in the castle.
He checked the timetable at the station, just to be sure. Now that his plan was in action, he was incredibly nervous. And he had lost his own copy of the timetable somewhere. Oh, well. It didn't matter anymore. It was 5:06. In just ten minutes he would be on the bus. . .In just eight minutes he would be on the bus. . .In just –
And then, like an ominous shadow, a familiar black car came around a bend in the road. The same car that sat everyday parked outside his house.
Harold's car.
Jamie blanched. "No," he whispered "Not now! Not when I'm so close!"
But it was, undeniably, Harold's car. And it was, horrifyingly, Harold, a cruel grin spread on his face. Jamie knew he was in for it now. There was no way he could get on the bus and escape Harold. Jamie's eyes darted this way and that, looking desperately for an escape anywhere. He was trapped.
Harold walked evenly over to Jamie. He was holding a slip of paper. Jamie recognized it and knew at once where his copy of the timetable had gone.
"Hello, James. Fancy meeting you here."
"H-hello, Harold." Jamie tried valiantly to get the tremble out of his voice. He stood up straight. If Harold was going to think Jamie came all this way just to go straight back home, he had another thing coming. He was not going without a fight.
"Boy, I am your father. I told you once and I told you twice, I don't want you talking to me like that." Already the cruel smile was fading from his face.
"Harold, you are not, never were, and never will be my father!" Jamie's temper exploded. Going home was not an option. Either he took the bus or Harold beat him until it didn't matter. He could not go home. Never again would he find the strength to run away. So when the blow came, Jamie took it. It sent him flying backwards, skidding the ground and scraping the skin away at his elbow. Harold kicked him in the stomach and Jamie curled up in agony before raising himself weakly to his knees. A cuff to the temple sent him back down.
"Boy, you deserve every last bit of this, you know. Every last bit for making your mamma worry and for making me come out here to get you. Just wait until I get you home." Harold started to drag him up by the collar.
"I - " Jamie coughed. "I'm not going home."
Harold threw him back down with a disgusted look. "I don't like what you're trying to pull here, boy. You are going to abandon any silly ideas you have right now and get back in that car and we are going to go home! If I hear another peep out of you until we get there you will be sorry God gave you a voice! I'm already sorry he gave you one!"
Jamie stood up and looked into his eyes, challenging Harold. "I am not getting in the car. I am not going home. I am leaving and never, ever coming back!"
Harold predictably rose to the challenge. Slowly, he had backed Jamie into a corner, against a wall, and far from the public eye. Suddenly Jamie wasn't too sure about his policy of Pennsylvania or Bust. An almost fanatic gleam came into Harold's eyes as two great, thick hands rose up menacingly and clamped around Jamie's thin throat. With each passing moment, they squeezed tighter and tighter while Jamie ran slowly out of breath. He uselessly clawed at the thick arms. He swatted at the face that smiled at his death.
He thought about his mother, how he had left her at the mercy of Harold. There would be no one left to be the buffer between Harold and her; no more Jamie Punching Bag. These same gigantic hands could one day close around her neck and Jamie had let it all happen. Spots began to dance about his vision. He became dizzy and weak when Harold shook him. He fell limp.
Harold threw his lifeless body against the wall. Jamie felt a horrible thud as his head connected with the brick wall behind him and the incredible relief as he sank to the floor. Harold thought he was dead. Harold would not leave he alone for long.
Slowly, Jamie opened one eye and then the other. Everything hurt his head. But instead of the fist or foot he expected to greet him, he saw a frightened Harold backing away slowly. Jamie didn't understand. There were no cops here, no sirens. Why did Harold seem so afraid then?
Jamie's head lolled to one side. His vision was fuzzy but he could make out a shape – or was it two? – lying against the wall with him. He peered closer and found himself staring into his own face. Two of his own faces. He blinked and scrunched his face up in confusion before groaning in pain. The two people looked just as confused as he was.
Jamie looked again at Harold only to find him gone. A quick peek at his watch verified that the bus was gone too.
"Aww, man." Jamie gave a disappointed sigh and struggled to his knees. He turned to the two people and gave them a weak smile.
"Hi, I'm Jamie Madrox. Who are you?"
They paused at his question, even more bewildered. Finally one of them answered, "I'm Jamie Madrox, too."
*~*~*~*~*
That's it for now. . .Hope you people out there who actually took the time to read this - especially those who reviewed it - know how grateful I am.
Like I said, I don't think I could make it on my own.
And everyone watch Evolution for me cause I don't get that channel anymore. . .*sob*. . .