I, Mutant
It just happened. One day I was with my friends. Hanging out, avoiding work and responsibility. The next day I was fighting for my life. Trying to survive the discrimination. Trying to survive the stares, the acussations. The thoughts of ending it all, right there. My mutant powers were active.
They were going on one path in life, mine was another. It was less clear, darker and stained with blood. But it was my path and I couldn't fight it. So, they said. It turns out they were right. I couldn't fight it. I tried so much to stop it. To just quit, but it never worked. Every time I thought I'd won, something else came. Something to take that feeling away. Something to cause the blood to dry on my hands. And it never gets any easier.
I've faced a lot in my time as an active mutant—notice how I said active mutant? Because I've always been one. Erik Magnus Lensherr, Nathaniel Essex, and even Professor Charles Francis Xavier himself. Charles Xavier? I can here the you all, you know; it's not as simple as that. Blood may have dried on my hands and I may have fought Charles Xavier but I am not the enemy. Neither is Jean Grey or Logan. But they have blood on their hands. More than me. They've fought Charles just as often of Erik or Nathaniel.
I'm not the enemy. They are. The ones who fight against what I believe. The ones that fight me! Those that fight against what they fear or understand for no reason other than they fear it or don't understand it; they are the enemy.
Don't delude yourselves, though. I'm not a nice guy. I'm cruel and manipulative and I'm afraid of what I'll do if I harness the true essence of my power. I'm afraid of what I'll do anyway. I'll kill and I won't care. And I just can't... I need to stop myself... I don't need that kind of responsibility. I don't want it.
Don't hate me for what I am. Hate me for who I am. It's a copout to hate me because I'm a mutant. Or a freak. Or a geek. Or a loser. Or a faggot. Or anything like that. I've been called so many things. Some of them I've just told you. Here's a list for those not aware; Mutie, freak, geek, nerd, faggot, loser, idiot, self-destructive, dork, paranoid, delusional, depressed, head case, twisted... But you don't want to here this. It'll make you feel guilty. Because there is no one here who hasn't said anything like this before or been the recipient of it. I could just forgive people for it. I should. But that's not who I am.
I could tell you my mutant power. But you don't need to know. I could be your best friend. Your worst enemy, but that's not important. You know nothing about the mutant side of me, really. All you know is that I've been forced to kill before. Not who thought, or what or how. Just that it has happened. And that I'm powerful. Yet, you know almost everything about my human side. Why?
Because I am, still human. At the core of everything, I have beliefs; I have emotions I have a family. I still think things like 'should I tell her how much I want her?' 'Does she love me?' 'Am I gay? Straight? Bi?' I might be gay. Does that make me even worse? Does that make me less than human even when ignoring my mutant gene? What about if I don't tell the girl how much I love her? Does that make me less of a man? It's all the same. Only now, I think about it on a greater scale. It matters more. Because I craved a normal life. But I'd never have one. Not how I used to want one. And I used to care. But now I know, I do have a normal life. It's normal to me. And that's what matters.
Don't ever forget who you are. It'll end badly if you do. I did. And I tried to kill myself. I took a knife to my wrists. A rope to my neck. That was as far as it went. I was never game enough to actually die. I'd even written suicide notes. How pathetic of me. It's like I was bluffing to myself. Badly. I knew I wouldn't do it but I still did all that.
You don't need to read this. I'm not forcing you. I'm not trying to preach to you. I'm just trying to tell you something. Something to blindingly obvious that I laugh at people who haven't realized it yet. That I, mutant am still human. Hate me all you want. I'm used to that. But like I said before hate me. Not my extra gene or mutant power.
I'm not as strong as I thought or I made myself out to be... I, mutant am weak not matter how you approach it. It's who I am. You'll feel guilty for a moment possibly even sad. But then you'll remember that I'm a mutant and sigh with relief that I'm gone. One more "Mutie faggot freak" down. It's the way man's mind works. So don't feel bad about it, feel sick. Sick that no matter what you could have stopped this. I'm still just a teenager; I'm still human. Why don't people care? They just don't. No real reason. I'm not about to give you one. You people can discover something other than hate and prejudice.
Sadly I won't be there for that glorious moment. My powers will probably have killed me. Or I will have.
It just happened. One day I was with my friends. Hanging out, avoiding work and responsibility. The next day I was fighting for my life. Trying to survive the discrimination. Trying to survive the stares, the acussations. The thoughts of ending it all, right there. My mutant powers were active.
They were going on one path in life, mine was another. It was less clear, darker and stained with blood. But it was my path and I couldn't fight it. So, they said. It turns out they were right. I couldn't fight it. I tried so much to stop it. To just quit, but it never worked. Every time I thought I'd won, something else came. Something to take that feeling away. Something to cause the blood to dry on my hands. And it never gets any easier.
I've faced a lot in my time as an active mutant—notice how I said active mutant? Because I've always been one. Erik Magnus Lensherr, Nathaniel Essex, and even Professor Charles Francis Xavier himself. Charles Xavier? I can here the you all, you know; it's not as simple as that. Blood may have dried on my hands and I may have fought Charles Xavier but I am not the enemy. Neither is Jean Grey or Logan. But they have blood on their hands. More than me. They've fought Charles just as often of Erik or Nathaniel.
I'm not the enemy. They are. The ones who fight against what I believe. The ones that fight me! Those that fight against what they fear or understand for no reason other than they fear it or don't understand it; they are the enemy.
Don't delude yourselves, though. I'm not a nice guy. I'm cruel and manipulative and I'm afraid of what I'll do if I harness the true essence of my power. I'm afraid of what I'll do anyway. I'll kill and I won't care. And I just can't... I need to stop myself... I don't need that kind of responsibility. I don't want it.
Don't hate me for what I am. Hate me for who I am. It's a copout to hate me because I'm a mutant. Or a freak. Or a geek. Or a loser. Or a faggot. Or anything like that. I've been called so many things. Some of them I've just told you. Here's a list for those not aware; Mutie, freak, geek, nerd, faggot, loser, idiot, self-destructive, dork, paranoid, delusional, depressed, head case, twisted... But you don't want to here this. It'll make you feel guilty. Because there is no one here who hasn't said anything like this before or been the recipient of it. I could just forgive people for it. I should. But that's not who I am.
I could tell you my mutant power. But you don't need to know. I could be your best friend. Your worst enemy, but that's not important. You know nothing about the mutant side of me, really. All you know is that I've been forced to kill before. Not who thought, or what or how. Just that it has happened. And that I'm powerful. Yet, you know almost everything about my human side. Why?
Because I am, still human. At the core of everything, I have beliefs; I have emotions I have a family. I still think things like 'should I tell her how much I want her?' 'Does she love me?' 'Am I gay? Straight? Bi?' I might be gay. Does that make me even worse? Does that make me less than human even when ignoring my mutant gene? What about if I don't tell the girl how much I love her? Does that make me less of a man? It's all the same. Only now, I think about it on a greater scale. It matters more. Because I craved a normal life. But I'd never have one. Not how I used to want one. And I used to care. But now I know, I do have a normal life. It's normal to me. And that's what matters.
Don't ever forget who you are. It'll end badly if you do. I did. And I tried to kill myself. I took a knife to my wrists. A rope to my neck. That was as far as it went. I was never game enough to actually die. I'd even written suicide notes. How pathetic of me. It's like I was bluffing to myself. Badly. I knew I wouldn't do it but I still did all that.
You don't need to read this. I'm not forcing you. I'm not trying to preach to you. I'm just trying to tell you something. Something to blindingly obvious that I laugh at people who haven't realized it yet. That I, mutant am still human. Hate me all you want. I'm used to that. But like I said before hate me. Not my extra gene or mutant power.
I'm not as strong as I thought or I made myself out to be... I, mutant am weak not matter how you approach it. It's who I am. You'll feel guilty for a moment possibly even sad. But then you'll remember that I'm a mutant and sigh with relief that I'm gone. One more "Mutie faggot freak" down. It's the way man's mind works. So don't feel bad about it, feel sick. Sick that no matter what you could have stopped this. I'm still just a teenager; I'm still human. Why don't people care? They just don't. No real reason. I'm not about to give you one. You people can discover something other than hate and prejudice.
Sadly I won't be there for that glorious moment. My powers will probably have killed me. Or I will have.