Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, not even the computer I'm using.
Author's note: ~This will always be for thoughts.~ I'd rather use italics,
but neither of us know how to upload this story without the italics
disappearing.
It was a Saturday morning in early October at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, known to the students as Mutant High, though there was an eighth grade for "early manifesters". I'd only been living here for a month, and still didn't have a roommate. My parents had been quite happy to send me to the school, along with all my important belongings, sell the house, and move so that I wouldn't ever be able to find them again. So much for family affection. Actually I saw a funny side to this, even on that first night, alone, which I spent crying. They thought I'd lose all contact with them, which showed how little they knew about my abilities, even thought they were so eager to be rid of them. You can never hide from a telepath-clairvoyant if she's bent upon finding you. I occasionally shut my eyes and projected my sight to the new house, sometimes tapping in to what they were thinking. I couldn't do that much more, though, because the teachers kept lecturing me about misuse of power every time they caught me at it.
Besides, this morning I had plenty to do without spying on my family. I had an 800-word essay on the Ice Age that I had been putting off. I was going to do half that day, half the next. No sooner had I started than my history teacher, Miss Munro, whom I always thought of as Storm, knocked on the door. I knew it was her because a clairvoyant can see things without looking, so to speak. "Come in, Miss Munro," I said, not taking my eyes off my paper.
Storm walked into the room, looking authoritative, beautiful and unearthly at the same time, as usual. She had always been my favorite teacher. "Working on the essay at the last minute, I see," she observed.
"This isn't the last minute," I argued, still looking at the paper as if my vision was glued to it, "today is Saturday. The assignment is due on Monday." Not that I cared, but I enjoy debates.
"That as may be, a new student arrived at the school at 5:00 this morning. She's going to be your new roommate."
I finally turned around and looked at Storm. "Where is she now?" I asked.
"The kitchen. Mr. Summers is with her, trying to make sure she doesn't eat too much. Professor Xavier talked to her earlier, and she told him that she hasn't eaten for three days, and very little before then. She might die of overeating, since she's been a runaway for two months, and near starvation the entire time."
"Since the raid, you mean?" I hadn't been here then, but many students had told me stories about it, most of them conflicting.
"Yes." The topic of those two days was still too painful for Storm. "She's one of those mutants that looks different that 'normal' humans, and apparently was afraid of being killed after the assassination attempt. I think it would be good if you went and introduced yourself. She's had a hard time, Amanda. You wouldn't really be talking, though. As a side effect of her power she can't hear or speak to any of us. The Professor said that your telepathy is good enough to converse mentally now."
"Only if they're in the room." My telepathy wasn't as strong as my clairvoyance, but Professor Xavier was helping me work on it. "What *can* she do? What's her name?"
"Her name is Myra Sing, but she prefers to be called Silent Spirit. I think it would be better if she explained her abilities to you herself." Storm walked out to the kitchen in question, the one where the students would go to grab a snack, then sit around and talk. I followed her.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Mr. Summers (I didn't like him as much, mainly because he was always melancholy, so I always called him that) was gravely watching the newcomer, notepad and pen between them. The new girl was quite distinct in appearance. Okay, she looked like something that had been washed ashore. I saw her from the side. She was wearing a dirty, very badly ripped and torn windbreaker, a pair of jeans in a similar condition, as well as muddy and scuffed sneakers. Her left arm was in a cast and a sling. Even with a jacket on, you could tell that she was dangerously thin, not in the way models look, but in the way that people in newspaper articles about famine look. On the floor, next to the stool she was sitting on, was a backpack that was falling apart. There was a black case sticking out of it. This was not the main reason that made her look odd. Her hands and face were covered with short, soft-looking, dark gray fur. Her very short hair was silver, brighter than the silver hair that the elderly have, but shining like metal. It was a tangled mess, but still was striking. Her nails were the same shade of silver. She wore a pair of opaque sunglasses, the kind that wraps around your face so that no light can pass through unfiltered. It was not very bright in the kitchen, which made me think that her eyes were different, too. Silent Spirit was eating a sandwich very slowly, with great restraint, but with undisguised enjoyment, as if it was the best sandwich in the universe.
"Thank you, Scott," Storm said. "Is she all right?"
Mr. Summers looked up. "She's fine," he answered. "I wrote that she should try to pace herself, and she wrote back that she knew already and would. She started talking without any sound a few minutes ago."
"WHAT?" I said.
"Oh, hello Amanda. I was surprised as well, and she wrote that she was telling her mother that she didn't have to worry about her now."
"Is that her power?" I asked. "She talks to dead people?" The idea scared me, but I believed it. Mr. Summers never joked around. Besides, it somehow seemed fitting that such a creepy looking person would be able to do something like that.
"I need to talk to you, Scott," interrupted Storm. The two of them left, leaving me to introduce myself. I sat down across from her, took a deep breath, and entered her mind.
~Hello, my name is Amanda, but call me Spy. I'm going to be your roommate.~ I began.
She looked at me and smiled in such a friendly way that she didn't look like an alien any longer, more like a small child presented with a bicycle. ~Hi. They probably told you my name already. How many more people here are telepathic?~
~Nobody else, besides the Professor. I'm not even a third as powerful as he is, but I'm also a clairvoyant. Why did you arrive so early, and not come to eat before now?~
Her thoughts spoke of the relief she felt. ~Those two teachers found me last night, in Washington DC. I've become mostly nocturnal, since it was safer for me if I traveled at night. They sent me off to the infirmary first, to get my arm fixed up, get antiseptic for the cuts-you can't see them because of the fur, and to check to see if I was otherwise in one piece. Then Professor Xavier wanted to talk to me, since neither of the teachers could communicate with me. Then he wanted me to go take shower,~ she smiled softly, ~but I insisted on food. I was getting to the point where I kept hallucinating about food.~
She was so honest and open that I couldn't feel nervous around her. ~Have you had enough? If you have I want to show you our room, Spirit. How did you break your arm?~
~Sure.~ She made it sound like an honor. I noticed that she had ignored my second question. ~It's nice to be able to talk to someone who won't run away screaming,~ she continued. Instantly I felt guilty about my first impression of Silent Spirit. She seemed so amazed at being treated decently. I picked up her backpack, and she followed me to my, no, our, room.
It was a Saturday morning in early October at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, known to the students as Mutant High, though there was an eighth grade for "early manifesters". I'd only been living here for a month, and still didn't have a roommate. My parents had been quite happy to send me to the school, along with all my important belongings, sell the house, and move so that I wouldn't ever be able to find them again. So much for family affection. Actually I saw a funny side to this, even on that first night, alone, which I spent crying. They thought I'd lose all contact with them, which showed how little they knew about my abilities, even thought they were so eager to be rid of them. You can never hide from a telepath-clairvoyant if she's bent upon finding you. I occasionally shut my eyes and projected my sight to the new house, sometimes tapping in to what they were thinking. I couldn't do that much more, though, because the teachers kept lecturing me about misuse of power every time they caught me at it.
Besides, this morning I had plenty to do without spying on my family. I had an 800-word essay on the Ice Age that I had been putting off. I was going to do half that day, half the next. No sooner had I started than my history teacher, Miss Munro, whom I always thought of as Storm, knocked on the door. I knew it was her because a clairvoyant can see things without looking, so to speak. "Come in, Miss Munro," I said, not taking my eyes off my paper.
Storm walked into the room, looking authoritative, beautiful and unearthly at the same time, as usual. She had always been my favorite teacher. "Working on the essay at the last minute, I see," she observed.
"This isn't the last minute," I argued, still looking at the paper as if my vision was glued to it, "today is Saturday. The assignment is due on Monday." Not that I cared, but I enjoy debates.
"That as may be, a new student arrived at the school at 5:00 this morning. She's going to be your new roommate."
I finally turned around and looked at Storm. "Where is she now?" I asked.
"The kitchen. Mr. Summers is with her, trying to make sure she doesn't eat too much. Professor Xavier talked to her earlier, and she told him that she hasn't eaten for three days, and very little before then. She might die of overeating, since she's been a runaway for two months, and near starvation the entire time."
"Since the raid, you mean?" I hadn't been here then, but many students had told me stories about it, most of them conflicting.
"Yes." The topic of those two days was still too painful for Storm. "She's one of those mutants that looks different that 'normal' humans, and apparently was afraid of being killed after the assassination attempt. I think it would be good if you went and introduced yourself. She's had a hard time, Amanda. You wouldn't really be talking, though. As a side effect of her power she can't hear or speak to any of us. The Professor said that your telepathy is good enough to converse mentally now."
"Only if they're in the room." My telepathy wasn't as strong as my clairvoyance, but Professor Xavier was helping me work on it. "What *can* she do? What's her name?"
"Her name is Myra Sing, but she prefers to be called Silent Spirit. I think it would be better if she explained her abilities to you herself." Storm walked out to the kitchen in question, the one where the students would go to grab a snack, then sit around and talk. I followed her.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Mr. Summers (I didn't like him as much, mainly because he was always melancholy, so I always called him that) was gravely watching the newcomer, notepad and pen between them. The new girl was quite distinct in appearance. Okay, she looked like something that had been washed ashore. I saw her from the side. She was wearing a dirty, very badly ripped and torn windbreaker, a pair of jeans in a similar condition, as well as muddy and scuffed sneakers. Her left arm was in a cast and a sling. Even with a jacket on, you could tell that she was dangerously thin, not in the way models look, but in the way that people in newspaper articles about famine look. On the floor, next to the stool she was sitting on, was a backpack that was falling apart. There was a black case sticking out of it. This was not the main reason that made her look odd. Her hands and face were covered with short, soft-looking, dark gray fur. Her very short hair was silver, brighter than the silver hair that the elderly have, but shining like metal. It was a tangled mess, but still was striking. Her nails were the same shade of silver. She wore a pair of opaque sunglasses, the kind that wraps around your face so that no light can pass through unfiltered. It was not very bright in the kitchen, which made me think that her eyes were different, too. Silent Spirit was eating a sandwich very slowly, with great restraint, but with undisguised enjoyment, as if it was the best sandwich in the universe.
"Thank you, Scott," Storm said. "Is she all right?"
Mr. Summers looked up. "She's fine," he answered. "I wrote that she should try to pace herself, and she wrote back that she knew already and would. She started talking without any sound a few minutes ago."
"WHAT?" I said.
"Oh, hello Amanda. I was surprised as well, and she wrote that she was telling her mother that she didn't have to worry about her now."
"Is that her power?" I asked. "She talks to dead people?" The idea scared me, but I believed it. Mr. Summers never joked around. Besides, it somehow seemed fitting that such a creepy looking person would be able to do something like that.
"I need to talk to you, Scott," interrupted Storm. The two of them left, leaving me to introduce myself. I sat down across from her, took a deep breath, and entered her mind.
~Hello, my name is Amanda, but call me Spy. I'm going to be your roommate.~ I began.
She looked at me and smiled in such a friendly way that she didn't look like an alien any longer, more like a small child presented with a bicycle. ~Hi. They probably told you my name already. How many more people here are telepathic?~
~Nobody else, besides the Professor. I'm not even a third as powerful as he is, but I'm also a clairvoyant. Why did you arrive so early, and not come to eat before now?~
Her thoughts spoke of the relief she felt. ~Those two teachers found me last night, in Washington DC. I've become mostly nocturnal, since it was safer for me if I traveled at night. They sent me off to the infirmary first, to get my arm fixed up, get antiseptic for the cuts-you can't see them because of the fur, and to check to see if I was otherwise in one piece. Then Professor Xavier wanted to talk to me, since neither of the teachers could communicate with me. Then he wanted me to go take shower,~ she smiled softly, ~but I insisted on food. I was getting to the point where I kept hallucinating about food.~
She was so honest and open that I couldn't feel nervous around her. ~Have you had enough? If you have I want to show you our room, Spirit. How did you break your arm?~
~Sure.~ She made it sound like an honor. I noticed that she had ignored my second question. ~It's nice to be able to talk to someone who won't run away screaming,~ she continued. Instantly I felt guilty about my first impression of Silent Spirit. She seemed so amazed at being treated decently. I picked up her backpack, and she followed me to my, no, our, room.