'Iris'
I was thirteen I think…yeah…thirteen. That was the first time I had ever noticed that I was 'different'. I was different in a way that my parents couldn't tell me it didn't matter to the other kids my age. Boy, are kids critical. I don't remember exactly what it was, but for some reason I was angry with my parents. Maybe it was because they wouldn't let me go to the 'cool party' some kids from school were having that night, that part I'm still unclear about. What isclear though is what did happen that night. As I said; I was angry with my parents. So, I went to my room, slamming the door on my way in just to piss them off, when I heard my mother coming towards my room. I didn't want her to come in, but I didn't have a lock on my door, it was the fire safety rules in our house. I thought about pushing something up against my door, but knew that I didn't have enough time. That's when it happened; I was staring at my dresser, wishing that in some way I could have moved it in front of the door quick enough, and without me touching it, it slid across the floor, in front of my door, locking my mother out.
"Annaliese let me in!" My mother called from the other side of my door, unknowing to the event that had just occurred.
I screamed. I didn't know what else to do; I didn't know what was going on. The scream, of course, made my parents worried, so my father took my door off of its hinges and after pushing my dresser out of the way, they found me curled into a ball in the corner furthest from my doorway. To them it had appeared that I had gone crazy, I had completely lost my mind. Then when I told them that my dresser moved because I had thought about moving it, but I hadn't actually done it myself, they thought that I was trying to take the heat off of our argument by posing like I was going crazy. It wouldn't have been such a bad idea, if that was indeed what I was actually trying to convince them of, but instead it was much more real. I decided not to talk to them about it again, not until I could prove it at least.
That's when I started practicing and really focusing on moving objects, to see what, exactly, I could move. I started out small at first, when I would do laundry I would try moving the detergent from the floor to the top of the washing machine. It got bigger from there. I would move everything in my room around and once, when I was sure that no one was watching, I moved the car over by a few feet in the driveway. At that time I decided to go back to my parents and show them what I could do. They didn't believe me to begin with, it was such a far fetched idea that I didn't blame them. But, they soon came to realize that it wasn't a joke, that it was real; I could actually move things, solid objects, with my mind. After doing some research they found a school for teenagers like me. It was in New York, and I spent all of my time there, except for the few summer months, which I spent at home in the south.
While I was there I met a girl named Jean. She also had telekinesis, and we bonded straight away. We shared rooms, powers, taste it guys, everything that counted to teenagers. Even though I didn't think I was unattractive, I always felt like she was so much prettier than I was. She had gorgeous, straight red hair, brown eyes, and was perfectly tall. I, other the other hand had curly brown hair that didn't seem to want to lie down until I reached my mid twenties, green eyes that I felt were a little too big, and I was nearly six foot and felt far too tall. She could have dated any man she wanted, but, she was after one guy only; Scott. He also went to school with us. They dated all through college and even got married one summer. I was the Maid of Honor. Even though I was a little jealous that I was still boyfriend-less and she was married to the seemingly perfect man, I couldn't have felt happier for her. Everything was going great for both of them. They were a wonderful family, had great jobs with both of them working at the mansion, and she was doing so well in her fight against the Anti-Mutant and Mutant Registration Champagnes.
I had been on vacation for a week and promised myself that I would call to check in on her once I got home. Ever since the attack on Liberty Island she had been complaining about not feeling like her old self. She kept telling me that she felt like something bad was going to happen. She didn't want me going away on vacation because she was afraid that something would happen to me while I was gone. That's why I was going to call, to tell her that I was at home safe and sound.
When I got home, I played back the messages on my answering machine. In between the ones I had from bill collectors, my old boss and an ex-boyfriend there was a message from Scott. He sounded sad, but since he hadn't said that anything was wrong, I took my time to do some things before calling him back. I checked the house to make sure everything was still in order, looked through my mail, and poured myself a drink before I finally picked up the phone and called.
"Hey Scott, I got your message, sorry it took so long for me to get back to you." I rushed as soon as he answered.
"Anna," he said, his tone was flat and exhausted, "she's gone, we lost her."
"What?" I asked in confusion. Who was gone, who did they lose?
"Jean's gone; she left the jet as we were about to fly out of Alkali Lake. The power was gone in the jet so she left it to power it on her own. We lost her in the flood when the dam broke."
The meaning of his words slowly sank into my mind, like someone falling through quicksand; slowly but surely. I began to cry and in between my sobs I could hear Scott quietly crying as well.
"When?" I asked as soon as my mouth could find the words.
"Two days ago,"
"Okay, look, I've still have everything packed, I'm going to head down to the airport and try to get a plane out of here as fast as I can. I'll be there soon, so just stay there and uh…we can talk." I muttered the last half, not really thinking. I was still tired from traveling and still had jet lag, but that was something important to me. My best friend was gone and her husband was the only person who was as close to her as I was, and he needed me right then. So I made me way to New York and by ten o'clock that night I was at the mansion.
"Hey," I said, walking through the door and giving Scott a hug. I dropped my bags beside me so I could hold him tighter. "How are you?"
"I'm okay,"
"I'm so sorry, Scott, I know this is tough, I can't even imagine what you're going through. But, we'll get through it, you'll be all right."
"I know, thank you for coming up here on such short notice." He said, breaking our embrace.
"Don't worry about it,"
"No, I know you've got to be tired, so I'll take you to your room and maybe we can talk some more tomorrow."
"All right," I said, grabbing my bags and followed him upstairs.
It had been so long since I had been to the school, probably five or six years at least, but everything was still so familiar to me. As I followed him past one of the old class rooms that was upstairs, I was hit with a sudden memory of when Jean and I were both just sixteen. We had snuck out of our dorm rooms and into the class room to put a love letter, that I had talked her into writing to Scott, inside his desk. But, unfortunately for her, he was sick and didn't come to class the next day, and the kid who sat in his seat instead thought that Jean had a crush on him. She was mad at me, but not for very long.
How could she possibly be gone? I tried not to let the thought plague me too much, I was far too tired to go through it all again, I didn't want to cry anymore that night, I just wanted to get some rest.
I followed Scott as he stopped at a door, "This is your room, and I'm just two doors down on the left, if you need anything." He said, pointing. "You know where everything else is, right?"
"Yeah, I think I remember," I said, opening the door to my room and dropping my bags inside. I reached for Scott and hugged him once again. "It's going to be okay, we'll get trough it together."
"I know, let's get some sleep, though." He said as I let go of him.
"Goodnight," I said, watching him walk the few short feet down the hall to his room.
"Goodnight," he called back.
I walked into my room, pushing my bags out of my way with my feet. I pulled off my shoes and climbed into bed, I didn't mind to change my clothes. As soon as my head hit my pillow, I was out.
I woke up, sweating, scared about a bad dream I had just had. But, as my eyes adjusted to the light around me, I quickly remembered that it wasn't a dream, I wasn't in Cancun on vacation anymore. I was at Professor Xavier's school, I had come to see Scott, and Jean was dead.
I flipped on the lamp beside my bed and looked at my watch; it was past four in the morning.
Even though I was tired, I was hungry and my legs were hurting. I decided to take a light stroll down to the kitchen; so I could stretch my legs a little bit and try to find something to eat.
I padded my way down the hall, to the elevator and made my way into the kitchen. As I pushed the door open I was surprised to see an unfamiliar man, sitting at the island in the middle of the room, drinking a Dr. Pepper.
"Oh, sorry," I apologized, "do you want to be alone?"
He stared at me. His eyes were a rich hazel color, and beautiful. I found myself not caring that he was staring at me so obviously, even though I would have normally felt self conscious.
"No," he said, taking a sip, "you're fine."
I walked to the refrigerator and rummaged trough it, finding a nearly empty Pizza Hut box. I pulled it out and grabbed a bottle of water with my free hand.
"Mind if I join you then?"
"Go ahead,"
I sat the pizza box down on the island and pulled up a stool, sitting down across from the beautiful stranger.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, as I ate.
"Are you one of the new teachers?" I asked.
"No," he said shortly.
"Who are you exactly then?" I asked very forwardly.
He stared at me for a moment.
"I'm Logan," he finally said, taking another swish of his Dr. Pepper, "who are you?"
"I'm Annaliese,"
"What are you doing here?" He asked, taking control of the questions.
"I'm a friend of Scott and uh…Jean," I said, not wanting to fully commit to saying that I 'was' a friend of Jean's.
He stared at me once again, locking his eyes with mine.
"That's what you're here?" he asked, again very short.
"Yeah…I got a call from Scott while I was on vacation…when I got home and called him he told me."
"How did you know her?" he asked.
"We went to school together. The two of us, plus Scott and Ororo were some of the first students. They stayed but I went back home and decided to try my hand at college. I guess I just didn't come back. She spent most of her life here and gave so much back to them…it doesn't seem fair." I said, shaking my head. "Did you know her well?"
He sat silent for a moment, glaring out on of the windows.
"They brought me here a few months ago and I met her, I knew her pretty well."
"Were you there with them when…she got off of the jet?"
"Yeah,"
"Why? Why did she do it?"
"I don't know…I don't know." He slowly repeated himself, shaking his head.
The way he looked when I asked him 'why' made me think there was more to his friendship with Jean.
"Did she say anything?" I asked, taking my turn to stare at him. "Before she…I mean did she say anything before she got off of the jet?"
He moved his hand so that it covered his mouth; I could tell he was thinking very hard about that day.
"No, she left it just before the dam broke. When we realized she was gone we tried to lower the ramp," he said, pausing. He stuck out his jaw, thinking. "Then she started talking through the Professor…she said she had to do it."
"Why didn't Scott stop her?"
He cleared his throat, "Look, I don't know, you'll have to ask him that."
"Did you try?" I asked.
He glared at me through his eyebrows.
"Yes, I tried." He said in a dry, almost sarcastic tone.
I had stopped eating, I was sick to my stomach thinking about the whole situation.
I bowed my head and rested my hands on my neck as I began to cry. It felt like everything had finally caught up with me right at that moment.
I looked back up, wiping the tears from my face.
"I'm sorry, I must seem absolutely crazy." I said with a half laugh. "I just didn't expect any of this. I didn't mean to barge in on you, I'm going to go back to my room and try and sleep some of this off."
He didn't say anything, he just watched me as I went to work putting the rest of the pizza back inside the refrigerator and emptied the rest of my water into the sink and threw away the bottle. But, as I leaned up against the sink I started to cry again.
"Are you okay?" he finally asked.
"No, I just can't believe that she's gone. How could this happen? She was one of the best people I've ever known, she didn't deserve to die, and it's not fair." I blurted.
"She chose it," he said a little aggressively, in a tone that made me believe he was trying to convince himself more than me.
I spun around to face him.
"I know, but I'm selfish and I still want her here with me, whether she chose it or not."
"Was she always like that?" He asked after a minute of silence.
"Like what?" I asked, wiping more tears from my face.
"Sacrificing own self so other people could have what they needed,"
"Oh," I said, "yeah. I think she felt like she owed herself to everyone and that she had to prove herself. She was so shy when she was younger; I think she was worried about what everyone thought of her. She wanted everyone to like her, and when they did she didn't believe it. She thought they were being nice and just humoring her. She failed to see that she was actually a nice person, and wonderful and so smart…she just saw the faults that people pointed out to her. She had no clue how much I admired and envied her; she was a doctor, a teacher, a wonderful wife and she still found time to fight against the courts in all of these Anti-Mutant trials. I'm lucky if I can find time to do my laundry between work and finally finishing out school. But, it was like she thought she had to keep herself busy or she wasn't doing anything right. I just wished she could have known."
"Maybe she did,"
I looked at him and studied his face. He had dark brown hair that seemed to stick up on the sides and swoop back in the middle. As I had noticed earlier his eyes were a wonderful hazel color with a stare that could knock you down. He had side burns, mutton chops, which grew down and connected to a beard that didn't quite get to his chin. I noticed the rest of him; he was wearing a gray undershirt that was tight against his chest, showing off his muscles, his arms were also built and nicely tanned.
I found myself wondering what it would be like for such a strong man to hold me in his arms. I thought about his lips, wondering if he would be a soft passionate kisser, or if he would be rough, grabbing me and doing just what he wanted?
I shamed myself for thinking such thoughts at a time like that. How could I be so shallow? Even if I didn't have a boyfriend, that wasn't the time to start. I was supposed to be mourning but instead I was lusting over a complete stranger that I had only known for around half an hour.
I decided that I really would have to go to bed at that point. My thoughts were running crazy and I tended to get out of hand when I didn't have much sleep. So, I made my way to the kitchen door, afraid that I might let sleeplessness effect my words and that I would say something that I didn't mean.
"Well, I suppose I'll see you later?" I asked.
"Yeah,"
"All right…goodnight," I said.
"Goodnight," he said as I left.
I made my way back upstairs and to my room, once again falling into my bed. But, sleep didn't come to me as quickly as it had before. I was not too tied to sleep. I also couldn't get visions of the stranger, Logan, out of my head. He felt far too familiar to me, but I wasn't sure why. I was certain that if I had met him before, I would have remembered. Soon enough though, sleep found me, and even as I was drifting between sleep and awake, all I could see was Logan.
