Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the Marvel characters or the song 'Breakaway' I simply use them for my own enjoyment and do hopethat no one minds.

Quick Rundown: This chapter takes place two days before Nightcrawlers attack on the President and then about a week and a half after. It does all have its place in the fic and this chapter brings you up on what's going on and gives you another character's point of view of those days during the X2 setting. I hope you enjoy!

Breakaway

'Dear Mom and Dad,

Please don't worry about me; I'm okay. Nothing has happened to me. I just had to leave. I wish that I could tell you why, but it's far too complicated and I don't want you to be disappointed in me, I've never wanted you to be.

Mom;

I'll be careful and promise not to hitchhike with any strangers; I've seen all of those Lifetime movies, too.

I have plenty of money with me so you don't have to worry about me begging people for anything; I know you're working hard on stopping people from having to do that.

I look up to you for all of your decisions and that's why I made mine to leave. Even though it's killing me to leave you, I know it'll only hurt you both worse if I stay. Just know that I love you and I always have.

Dad;

You mean the world to me and I think that you're doing a fantastic job with the country; it has to be hard to be the President. I've always thought of you as my real father and a great person and I know that the nation is lucky to be able to see that in you.

I want you to know that I've seen what you and mom have given up for me other these past few years, but most importantly; allowing me to stay in school in Arizona. We're so many miles away from each other and I've always appreciated you both flying in when you've gotten the chance.

I want you both to understand that you did nothing to make me leave; I made the decision on my own. The truth is that you really have given me so much and this is the only way I know how to, somewhat, repay you; make your job a little easier.

Please don't send of the FBI, CIA or secret service. As much as I love Carls and Burkley this doesn't need to involve them. In addition, know that they had no hand in what I did; they didn't help me at all. I take full responsibility for my actions and I know that what I do with cause a lot of problems, but I'm truly trying to help you avoid the much bigger problem. So please, no news reports, no rewards, no searches and for goodness sake, if you do put my face on a milk carton, don't use my ninth grade photo from the high school yearbook, I hate that picture.

I just want you both to know that I highly respect both of you and I do appreciate all of the sacrifices that you've made for me. I love you, miss you, and always keep you in my prayers.

Love Always,

Holly'

I sighed as I ran my fingers through my long blonde hair. I was really going to do it. I was going to runaway. I had made up my mind about what I was going to do two and a half months before; I had overheard a meet my father was having with some of the senators in his office. It had only taken me two weeks to make out the full plan; I would go to the Eastcost Garden Club for the Vice President's daughter's birthday party, where I would slip into the bathroom and from there I would make a run for it. I would slip out un-noticed and make my way across the boarder. After I was gone I was going to dye my hair and cut it off. I would change my wardrobe and fake a British accent. Because I usually lived in Arizona instead of D.C. with my parents, I didn't have a high profile in the media and I was hoping that the people from Canada wouldn't know who I was. I took a deep breath and knew it was 'now or never'. So I went for it, concentrating on my powers.

My name is Holly and I'm a mutant. That's why I was running away; my father, who wasn't my real father but had adopted me when I was five, was the President of the United States of America. I had overheard him talking about re-introducing the Mutant Registration Law and I saw no other option but to run. I couldn't tell just them about me, I never had, but at that time, there were men in suites with earpieces always listening in to everything we said to each other. If I told them about me then there was a possibility of a media leak (Who wouldn't give big money to be the first to report that?) and if that happened then there was also a chance of father being taken from his position because of me. Being a mutant was one of the worst things in society and I wouldn't ruin his career just because of who I was. He had worked too hard for his job just to have it all thrown down the tubes.

I stuck my hand in front of my face just to make sure it had worked; I couldn't see it. I looked down; nothing, I was invisible.

I slowly opened the stall door; even though I had waited until I was fairly sure everyone was gone, I wanted to be careful, just in case. I checked myself out in the mirror to make sure everything was gone. Then I waited. Someone else had to enter the bathroom before I could leave, opening the door so that I could sneak out. It was only a matter of minutes before a group of girls all came in together.

"Did you see what Holly was wearing? I mean, come on, that's been out of style for like, six months now." Senator Jordon's oldest daughter said after checking the stalls to make sure I wasn't there. Although I wanted to stay and listen to them insulting my outfit, which was not out of style by the way, I had to make my run for it. As the last girl filed into the bathroom, I slide through the door, as quietly as I could. The next part was the hardest; I had to get past all of the guests and guards without being heard or bumped into. I silently leaned up against a wall and took off my high heels, holding them tightly with one hand I carefully made my way around the dance floor with success. I spotted Carls and Burkley waiting a few feet from the bathroom and almost blew my cover from laughing after thinking that they would be standing there all night for me to come out, which I never would. I promised myself that I could laugh later if I ever got out of that place. I slowly and cautiously made my way through the rest of the room and found the two doors that led to the outside. The only thing that stood between my freedom and me; Sven, he was Vice President's daughter's bodyguard that always hit on me. I stood on my tiptoes and carefully crept out the door, not making a sound. It wasn't my first time sneaking out from under Carls and Burkley's watch, I had done it a few times as practice runs, that how I knew to take off my shoes. I kept creeping until I was around three hundred yards away, from there I put my shoes back on. I did have some problems, though. Because I was wearing my shoes what I made myself invisible they too were invisible. So one could see how I would naturally have a problem with not knowing which one was left and which one was right and it would be completely understandable that it took my nearly ten minutes to get them straightened out. I saw it as a bad sign that everything from that point on was going to be hard. But once I got them on, I walked. I walked to the train station where I took a train up to New York. If you could call it 'taking a train', I stashed away in the luggage compartment until the ride was over. From there is where my life as a criminal took its turn; I stole a box of hair dye, soap, shampoo and conditioner, scissors, a box of safety pins, five pairs of fishnet stockings and as much makeup as I could fit into my bag. I felt bad about it but I didn't know what else to do. Besides, no one saw me taking it so all they would know is that some items had gone missing. After that, I went back to the hotel I was staying at. Five or six rooms on the top floor that were being refurnished and I took one that I thought would be the last one they would fix.

I took down my hair from it's lose ponytail, "You're insane," I said to myself as I began cutting my hair. It didn't need to be professional, just different. However, my aunt was a hairstylist so I did know a thing or two about what I was doing. After that, I dyed it. Then I took the scissors to most of my clothes. I cut skirts that had originally been down to my knee up to my thigh. I chopped sleeves off and necklines out of tops. I converted a pair of the fishnet stockings into arm warmers and kept the rest to wear as they were. As I cut the length of one of my favorite dresses nearly in half it really hit me what I was doing; I was changing everything about me so that I wouldn't have to compromise myself to hurt someone's job. The weight of it hit me and I began to cry. I was never going to be able to see my family again, I would never be able to step foot in my house, whether it was the white one or my real one in Arizona, ever again. I was never going to be Holly again; I was going to be Jewel for the rest of my life. I had to make up my life, I was always going to be on the run, no matter if I decided that I wanted to settle down somewhere I wouldn't have the luxury. Everything from that point on was going to have to be one lie after another, after another until one day I wouldn't forget what my life really was like and began to create a new one. But the thought of knowing that I could never legally be married or own anything of my own, or even drive plagued my thoughts, only adding to my violent sobs. As I cried myself to sleep that night, I wondered if my parents had found the note that I had left them in my room at the White House. By the next morning, I knew

I took time applying my makeup, careful to make myself look as little like me as possible. I studied myself in the mirror; my hair that was once dirty blonde was a dark chocolate, almost black, brown color. I had cut it just about my shoulders, even thought it had once been down my back. It was short with piecey layers and side swept bangs. My eye shadow nearly echoed the color of my hair as I lined them with a dark black pencil and smudged it. My skin looked the palest it ever has as it contrasted with the darkness of my hair and eyes. My outfit was something my mother wouldn't let me wear even to a costume party. I had on a black top that I had cut the neckline out of, making it a V-neck. I had attached the arm warmers I had made to the sleeves with the safety pins and held the other ends down with the finger holes I had made. I was also wearing a black skirt that I had gotten to wear to a Christmas party for the previous year at the White House. Although it had originally been past my knees after I cut it, it sat just above them. I wore a pair of the fishnets, which ended up with a few more holes that they had started with, with a pair of black knee high boots. I was no longer Holly I was Jewel Bryson. I had taken my middle name and put it with my last name before my dad had adopted me. I figured, and hoped, that no one would notice. I was scared to be on my own, it was terrifying to think that I had to depend on myself for everything. Even though I was in college in Arizona while my parents were on the other side of the country I was always had Carls and Burkely with me. I couldn't believe that I actually missed them.

I gathered all of my things and threw it all into a large bag, which I slung across my shoulder. I had a few outfits, shoes, half of my money and a few other things in it, so it wasn't that heavy. The other half of my money I had split once again and put one half in my purse and the other in my boot, just in case.

As I stepped outside, I pulled on a pair of sunglasses, fully assuming that I wouldn't be noticed. I was walking down the street, heading in the direction of the nearest train station when I saw a group of people gathered around a display window. Curious to see what they were looking at I joined them, pushing my way to one of the TVs that was on display. That's when I saw it; my high-school yearbook photo from ninth grade flash across the screen with a contact number under it. I could deal with the media attention of a search party, I expected it from them, but when I had asked them specifically not to use that phone and they did anyway, that I was upset about. Nevertheless, I was proud of my handy work and didn't think anyone would know me. I watched the TV a little longer before it showed my mom and dad talking, my mother was crying.

"Our daughter has gone missing, she means the world to us, so if you have any information about her or her whereabouts please call the number at the bottom of the screen and you will be rewarded accordingly. We just want her back and if you're listening; we love you Holly, please come back home."

It killed me and I wanted to cry but I knew I couldn't, not right then.

"Do you think she was kidnapped?" An older woman asked the man beside her.

"Who know?" he replied.

"I thought he was supposed to help stop abduction, now his daughter's missing?" Another woman said.

"It's probably just a publicity stunt; trying to prove that he's still like the little man and that he relates to us," A third woman chimed in.

"She probably ran away, wouldn't you if he was your father? I'm just glad I didn't vote for him," another man said, lighting a cigarette.

I wanted to stop them and explain to them what was really going on. I could barely stand to heard them say things about my dad that way. However, I was afraid I would blow my cover, so I kept moving. By the time I had reached the train station I had passed five other TV displays showing the news bulletin. I would stop and listen to the people talk and watch my parents for a few minutes before continuing. I had heard quite a few theories within the thirty or so minutes that it had taken me to get to the train, where I bought a ticket and sat in the very back, dodging glances of disapproval of my apparel. Apparently, the number one theory was that another country had kidnapped me, the number two theory; my father wanted publicity. Others thought that I had possibly been killed and left somewhere, or that the whole thing was blown of proportion and that I had just gone back to Arizona without telling anyone. Some had even said that aliens abducted me, though as odd as it was, running away was the least considered theory.

I was tired but I was afraid to sleep on the train, I didn't want someone to sneak up on me, I needed to be fully awake. During the ride it started to get a little cold and I was suddenly re-thinking my decision of chopping all of my clothes up. I rummaged through my bag until I found my full length, black duster and slipped it on. I sat back down and wrapped it around me, trying to keep myself warm. I pulled the hood up around my head, curled up against the window and began to cry. I reached to wipe away the tears from my eyes when I realized that I couldn't see me hand. I had some problems with my powers, when I would get emotional things would often disappear on their own. Most of the time it was just a hand, but feet had disappeared before, too. I tucked my hand inside my coat and with my empty right hand; I dug through my bag and pulled out a glove, slipping it over my hand so that it was visible. I stuck the other glove inside my coat pocked just in case I needed it. The ride seemed to take forever, leaving me with plenty of time to think I was completely insane and rethink what I was doing. I cried; for my parents, for my family, for my friends, for the nation that was searching for someone that would never find and for me.

"Sweeties, are you all right?" I heard from beside me as I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see a middle-aged woman with gray hair standing beside me.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," I lied, using an English accent. I forced a small smile and wiped the tears from my eyes using my gloved hand.

"Are you sure? I don't mean to sound as if I'm snooping but you've been crying the whole ride so far,"

I searched her eyes, looking for something telling me not to trust her, but I couldn't find anything. "I miss my family," I finally admitted.

"Are you here all by yourself?" she asked, sitting in the seat across from me.

"Yeah,"

"Oh dear, you must not be feeling too safe, what with the news of the President's daughter Holly being missing and everything and then you're here all by yourself," she said with a sympathetic smile. "You know, you look like her, the President's daughter,"

I laughed and smiled, both were genuine. "I've heard that a few times," I said, the English accent becoming more natural to me.

"Although I think you may be prettier,"

"Thank you," I smiled. I pushed my hood off and slowly pulled off my glove, making sure that my hand was visible. When I knew it was I slipped the glove inside me coat along with its mate.

"What are you doing all the way over here?" she asked.

"I uh…came to…help out a friend of mine,"

"Do they know you're coming?"

"Yeah," I nodded. I was having a very hard time answering 'Yeah' instead of 'Yes ma'am'.

"Do you have a job here?" She asked, very casually looking over my outfit.

"No, not yet,"

"Well, you're beautiful and seem bright so I don't think you should have a problem getting a real good job." She thought I was a prostitute.

"I know and first thing I'm getting new clothes, this is what you get when you try to blend in by wearing clothes from music videos. They really should warn us that Americans don't dress like this," I lied again with a small laugh. I was getting good at making up stories from the top of my head. I watched as she sighed and smiled at me, glad that there was a reason for my outfit.

"What part of England are you from?" she asked.

"Great Yermoth,"

"Oh, I've never heard of it before, is it big?"

"Not too terribly, it's by the ocean, so it's quite lovely."

"Is this the first time you've ever been to the United States?"

"Yeah and I'm actually not staying very long, I'm heading up to Canada."

"Is that were your friend lives?"

"Yeah,"

Once I had someone to talk to the train ride didn't seem that long and before I knew it we had stopped. And by that time, Rose, the woman I was talking to, had heard all about my 'father' who worked as a carpenter for a small business that he and my 'mother' owned. How I was going to open my own photo shop once I got back home, about my 'grandmother' who had fallen ill and I had to take a year off from university to help take care of her. I suddenly understood how someone could be a compulsive liar; it seemed much easier just to make stuff up that to tell someone about your real life. It was also much more interesting and by the time I was getting off the train, I had almost forgotten that English was not my natural accent.

"Goodbye Jewel, I hope you have a good time here, just be careful!" Rosa said as I stepped off the train.

"I will and thank you. I hope your husband feels better soon!" I called back to her. She gave me a weak smile and waved as I walked off. It was dark and I wasn't sure where I was supposed to be going. I knew I needed to head north but I wasn't sure how to get there. I decided to find a hotel and sleep for the night, in a proper bed with pillows and not have to worry about whether or not I would get caught in the room. After asking the woman at the ticket booth where the nearest hotel was I began a three-mile walk in boots to find it. I was afraid to be seen walking in my outfit, at that time of night, or the side of a New York highway, so I decided to stay invisible. As I was reaching the two-mile mark, it began to rain. I pulled up my hood and cinched my coat together with the rope tie. Once I found the hotel, I snuck around back to make sure I look all right. I checked my hair, outfit and fixed my makeup that had run from all of my crying. After everything was fixed, I walked inside and up to the front desk.

"How may I help you?" The woman there asked, looking disgusted by me.

"I need a room,"

"I'm sorry but we don't rent them by the hour," she smirked.

"I beg your pardon?" There were few times when I was tempted to through out the 'Don't you know who my father is?' line, but that was one of them. "If all of the rooms in this crappy hotel are taken, which I seriously doubt, then that's fine. But if not then I want a single." I smirked back.

After calling out the manager, we settled our altercation and I ended up getting my next night free. I got up to my room and made a beeline for the shower. All I wanted was to take a hot shower, order a pizza and sleep. I pulled my boots off to reveal blisters on both of my feet. I promised myself that I would buy shoes that were more practical the next day. I turned on the water, allowing it to heat up, before finally climbing in, my feet killing me. There was a small seat type thing and I sat, letting the hot water pour over me. I saw the water run black in the shower after I held up my face to wash off my makeup. After about thirty minutes, I finally forced myself out and wrapped up on one of the big robes hanging in the bathroom. I combed through my hair with my fingers and dried it with a towel. As soon as I changed into my pajamas, I called for a pizza. I barely finished eating before I fell asleep. I woke up the next day at around noon. I decided to turn on the TV and see if they were still looking for me as frantically. I turned it over to the news and sure enough, there was coverage of the White House. But the headline was different.

"Two days after his daughter Holly is miss the President is attacked in the Oval office. Although there are no leads behind either act, authorities are led to believe that the same person, or persons, is behind both. Stay turned for more updates as we receive them throughout the day," the woman on TV reported.

What had happened? Was he okay? What about my mom, had she been attacked too? Was it my fault? Had my running away caused some mad man to attack my own father? How had they gotten into the Oval Office without anyone knowing? I could barely get in there with all of the security, how had they gotten in? I didn't go out shopping that day; I stayed in my hotel room watching the news, flipping between channels during the commercials to make sure I was hearing everything. It was past two in the morning before I finally went to sleep. The next day the new wasn't as bad; my father reported on TV saying that he and my mom were fine but the real task was to find me. I was relieved knowing that he was okay, so I decided to go and buy clothes that didn't make me look like a hooker. While I was shopping in a fairly rundown mall, I spotted another display of TVs in a Radioshack window. I decided just to check it out to get an update to see what was going on. Almost all of the TVs were playing the same station, which was repeating everything that I had already heard, except for a small one in the bottom off the left hand corner. I stepped away from the others to see what it was playing. There was a newscaster sitting in the newsroom speaking; "There was an attack on a small family in Boston today, only a few hours ago. It seems that there were three to four mutants involved. After one of the family members called to report that they were being held captive in their house by the mutants police were sent straight to the site. Once there a mutant, involving fire, attacked the police. Although none of the injuries was fatal, six officers were sent to the hospital. After the police became conscious on the sire they said that the mutants were gone and left no trace of their whereabouts."

My heart began racing and pounding. What is the person who had attacked my father was part of them? What is his attacker was another mutant? I prayed that he wasn't because I knew what that would mean for the rest of us; the registration law would come into place, or we could all be put into temporary lock down and have tracking devices attached to us all. Our freedom would be gone. I went on with the rest of my shopping and got everything that I needed before leaving the country. I would stay one more night at the hotel, because it was free, but the next day I had to set my plan back up and sneak a ride across the boarder. It was somewhat exciting to but new clothes. I was so used to wearing tweed, neutrals, high heels, pearls and anything 'lady like' that it was actually a lot of fun to buy stuff I would never have usually wore. My first goal; walking shoes, I had done more walking that I had planned on and knew that an expensive pair of running shoes would probably end up paying off within the next week or so. I bought three pairs of blue jeans, quite a few T-shirts and long sleeved shirts, some sweaters, scarves and a couple of zip up hooded jackets. My plan had not worked out perfectly so far and I was a little upset that I had to dip into my money that was supposed to be for food and hotel rooms until I could find a place to live and hopefully a job. I had started out with a thousand dollars but had ended up spending around two hundred of it by that day. After shopping, I caught a cab back to the hotel. I ate some of my left over pizza and un-packed and re-packed my bag with my new clothes. I changed my outfit and felt much more comfortable than before. Piling my old clothes into a bag, I headed out behind the hotel to throw them away.

"Hey, you got a light?" a scraggily woman asked me.

"No, I'm sorry," I said, remembering my accent.

"What'cha got in the bag?" the woman asked as I lifted the lid of the garbage bin.

"Old clothes," I said, pausing, "do you want them?" My mother had worked to help people off the streets and I thought that she would be proud of me for trying to be helpful.

"Yeah, if you're just gonna' throw them out,"

"They're of no use to me anymore," I said, handing her the bag.

She opened it up and dug through the contents. "Thank you," she said with a smile, revealing her missing front teeth.

"No problem, I hope you can get some use out of them," I said, turning to leave.

"Wait, how can I pay you back?"

"I'm sorry?"

"This is really nice stuff, how can I pay you for it?

"There's no need to," I said as I faced her once more.

"No, here, take this," she said, pulling something from her coat pocked and holding out her hand. I slowly stretched out my hand to hers, wiry of what she was handing me. Once my hand was underneath hers she dropped a necklace into my outstretched palm. "This is my rosary, it's not worth much but it will keep you safe."

I accepted it and held it tightly in my hand. "Then this is how you can repay me, I need all the safety I can get."

"This world is crazy, not us, remember that,"

"I will, thank you," I smiled, walking away.

I wasn't raised Catholic but the meaning of the rosary was all I needed. It would always remind me of good things, no matter where I was meant to end up. After I went back to my room, I cleaned the rosary and slipped it on over my head. The cross fell right at my heart. The necklace itself was beautiful, strung with black and red beads. The cross was silver and had been made to look like nails conjoining together. I tucked it into my shirt and sad a small prayer before going to bed. It was going to be my last night in America.

"Do you need some help?" a young man asked me inside the grocery store. It was my last day and I had decided to load up of food so that I could be prepared.

"No," I said, staring at him.

"Oh, I just thought…sorry," he said, blushing.

"You thought what?" I asked, hoping he would say; 'Look like the President's daughter.'

"You have you sunglasses on I just thought you couldn't…see well," he muttered quietly.

I smiled. "Well, the thought counts, so it was very nice of you to offer." I was excited to be treated somewhat normal while out in public, which hadn't been the case in quite a few years. As I was standing there smiling and flirting with the young man I felt a sharp pain sire through my head. The pain was so intense, like none I had ever felt before. I fell to my knees, writhing on the floor of the small grocery store in pain. I felt as if every inch of me was on fire, but another sensation felt as if I were freezing. My head felt like someone was sticking a knife into it, extracting it, stabbing me all over again, repeatedly and not stopping. It felt like hammers were pounding into my skull, my brain felt like someone had lit fire to it. Tears streamed down my face as I gritted my teeth and squeezed my fists, trying to stop the pain. I don't know how long I was there on the floor, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but as I was there thinking that I was dying it stopped. There was not easing out of it, nothing to warn me that it was almost over, it simply just stopped.

"Are you all right ma'am?" a man asked.

I looked up to see a crowd of people around me. I slowly stood, shaking. I was so confused about what had happened, I thought that I could have been having a seizure. I caught my breath and propped myself against a shelf. But before I could answer, everyone who had crowed around me began acting the same way I had only moments before. I was scared, what was happening to us all? I stood there in shock, watching all of the people who had come to help me, fall to the floor in pain. Most screamed, some cried, but they were all feeling the same way. After five or ten minutes I wasn't sure about what I was supposed to do, so I grabbed my things, including the nearly full basket of groceries that I was carrying and ran. I emptied the basket into my bag and left the basket by the door and then I continued to run. However, the more I ran, the more people I saw, all acting the exact same way. I ran down the streets, seeing cars that had run off the road. I ran and ran until I made it to a small building, I snuck behind it and hit. Sliding down the length of the wall and coming to a halt at the ground. I waited until the screams stopped. I wondered if everyone was okay or if they were all dead. I slowly crept from my hiding place to see people coming from their houses, their cars, out of the business around us. Everyone was shook up, we were all terrified, but I didn't want to stick around, so I kept running. I didn't stop until I got to a truck stop miles away from town. After I became invisible, I peeped into a few of the truck windows to see their delivery lists until I found one that was going to Canada. Then I quietly waited for them to come out. When he checked his trailer, I hopped in and rode. Because I was 'brilliant' I didn't think to get a flashlight, so I had to sit in the dark for some fifty or so odd miles. I kept myself occupied by naming off all of the states I had been to, in alphabetical order and named one good memory and one bad memory about them all. I was almost to 'U' when we stopped. Between loads I hopped from the truck and made a mad dash to the nearest bathroom. I didn't know what part of the country I was in, I just knew I was there. Two guys had stopped us and shone in flashlights to search the truck right before we crossed the boarder.

I checked myself out in the mirror once I was able to see myself again. I had some bruises from flailing about on the floor earlier that day. There were also a few from the stuff in the truck knocking into me. Overall, I didn't look too shabby. After fixing myself up a little bit I went into the gas station beside my truck's delivery station.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where the nearest hotel is?" I asked the woman cashier.

"Hm…" she said, thinking, "There's one about twenty or so miles that way," she pointed to her right.

I sighed. "That's the nearest?" I did not want to walk twenty miles in the cold rain.

"Yeah I'm afraid so,"

I stood there thinking for a moment. "You wouldn't happen to know the number to a taxi service, would you?"

"No, I don't, but my shift is done in about fifteen minutes and I'm heading that way. If you need a ride I can give you one?"

I debated it, I had told my mother I wouldn't hitchhike but it wasn't really considered 'hitching' a ride since she had offered. And if anything got bad, I would just use my powers and sneak away.

"If it's not going to be a problem then I would really appreciate it,"

"No problem at all," she said with a smile.

I wandered around the store until it was time for her to change shifts. Between that time I bought a gallon of water since I was able to earlier, considering the situation.

The woman had a fairly small, two door car. I didn't know what kind of make it was, I had never learned about that sort of thing.

"So where are you headed?" she asked as we drove along the wet roads.

"No where important, just here for a visit," I lied.

"Without a car?"

"Yeah, I don't drive; I thought it would be more fun this way."

"I guess,"

We didn't really talk much, we just exchanged names, she asked me how old I was, and where I was from. Finally, she pulled into a rundown parking lot of a small motel. It wasn't really what I was looking for but the vacancy sigh was lit up and it was bound to be cheaper than a hotel. I grabbed my bag from the back seat and pulled it into my lap. I dug into my purse and pulled out a crumbled up twenty dollar bill and handed it to the woman. "Here, it's not much but I appreciate the ride."

"I can't take that, honey," she said with a smile.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because you're going to need it you don't know where you're going or have a car to go in,"

"Well, thank you, if was very nice of you to give me a ride."

"No problem, just be careful, there are some crazy people out there."

I smiled and nodded my head in agreement before pulling up the hood of my duster and pulling myself out of the tiny car. I was five foot ten and not made for a tiny car.

She waited until I got inside the motel before driving away. After asking for a room the man at the front desk took me to one, opening the door to reveal bad orange carpeting of a room that had a small sink, stove and half refrigerator, a twin bed and a small bathroom. I tried to hide the look of disgust on my face but I wasn't doing very well. Thinking about who had been in that room and what they were doing along with wondering when the last time the sheets were washed made my stomach turn.

"How's this for ya'?" he asked.

"Its fine," I muttered out the lie, hoping I could convince myself.

"Well, here are the keys and its twenty five dollars a night,"

"That's fine," I said, taking the keys from his hand and slowly stepping into the room.

"Well, goodnight, then," he said, turning the lights on and closing the door as he left.

Being in that room made my skin crawl. I started with the bed; I took a blanket that I had snuck into my bag from the last hotel and spread it across it. It covered it plus the two pillows. I sat out all of my food on the table and didn't even bother changing into my pajamas before going to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night when I felt something on my face. I screamed, realizing it was a cockroach. I did not sleep well for the rest of the night, scared to think about what else might crawl over me. But as the sun was rising my eyes wouldn't stay open

I spent the next week in that hellhole, eating peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast and Roman noodles for dinner. It was during that time that I realized just how spoiled I had been my whole life. I would always complain about not having a late enough curfew, I wanted a new outfit, could I have more money for this, could I have more money for that? Living in a bug infested motel room humbled me in a way that I would always be grateful for, but hoped I would never have to live through again. I packed up my things and paid for my weeks stay in the room, caught a ride with a truck driver and wound up standing outside of a bar. Even though I was twenty-two I had never drank before. Right then didn't seem like the perfect time to start but it was raining and it sounded like a storm was moving in, so I decided to go in just to stay warm. It was dark, musky and filled with smoke. I spotted an empty chair at the bar and sat down, tossing my bags beside me. There was a man three seats down from me and I suddenly remembered something my father had told me when I was a teenager: Never trust a man with a mustache, never play cards with someone named after a city, state or country and if the bar's not crowded, sit at least three seats away from the person next to you. I was three seats away, he didn't have a mustache and even though I didn't know his name, I couldn't imagine it was that of a city, state or country. He was wearing blue jeans, cowboy boots, a flannel shirt and a leather jacket. His hair was dark brown and dipped down in the middle, but stuck up on the sides. He had long mutton-chop sideburns that grew into an almost beard, the hair skipping his chin. I stared at him through the dirty mirror behind the bar, but soon saw that he was staring back at me. I blushed an smiled apologetically before looking away.

"What can I get for you miss?" the bartender asked.

"Do you have anything that'll cure a headache?"

"Just about everything I've got,"

"Hm…what do you suggest then?"

"Here, try this," he said, pouring a drink from a label-less bottle into a glass and sitting it in front of me. I took a sip and choked on it. He looked at me and laughed. "You'll get used to it,"

I pushed the drink away from me. "Do you have any water, on second thought?" I asked, still coughing.

"Yeah, hold on," he said with a laugh. He brought me back a glass of water.

"How much was the other drink?" I asked, grabbing my purse.

"Don't worry about it; it's on the house,"

"Thanks,"

"Can I get another one of these?" the man beside me asked, holding up an empty bottle.

"Yeah," he said, reaching behind the bar and handing him a new one. "You wanna' try one of these?" he asked me.

"No, I think I'll stick with this," I smiled, pointing to my water.

"Your call,"

I sat there in the bar for nearly five hours, my time only rivaled by that of the man next to me, who kept ordering more of the same drink, but didn't seem to be getting drunk. It was night and I had assumed the storm, or at least the worst of it, had passed over us, when a man, who was obviously drunk, came up to me asking me if I wanted to dance with him.

"No, sorry," I said with a halfhearted smile.

Somewhere between my response and the next five minutes, the man became violent with me screaming at me and pushing me from my chair. I had never been in a fight, ever since my father was a senator Carls and Burkley had been with me all though high school and college and I suddenly had to deal with the sudden shock of taking up for myself. As I fell from my chair, I stumbled backwards against the bar, tripping over my bag.

"Hey man, give it a rest," the bartending said. To which the drunk man responded by slapping my across the face. A shot of pain ran through me and as I stood there in shook as the pain faded to a stinging sensation in the shape of a large hand. I held up my hand to my mouth, which was bleeding, to see that my hand was no longer visible. The drunken man twisted his face in confusion when he saw that my hand, which had been there only moments earlier, was gone.

"You freakish little mutant!" he said, raising his hand to slap me again.

"Hey!" the man next to me shouted as he stood and grabbed the other man's hand. "Leave her alone."

"Look at her, she's a mutant, why do you care what I do to her?" the drunken man yelled, trying to get out of my strange rescuers grip.

"Leave her alone," he said once more.

I saw the other man come up behind him but before I could warn him, the other man had already stabbed him with his knife. The man who was defending me let out a loud growl before turning around and pushing the second man to the floor, and to the shock of us all, watched as six blades, three to each hand, shot fast from the skin between his knuckles.

"Look, both of you freaks get out of my bar, now!" the bartender yelled. I picked up my bags and ran out the door. I soon heard one of the mean behind me and I turned around to see the other mutant.

"You got a ride, kid?" he asked me. I shook my head no. "Alright, get in the truck."

"But I can't-" I started.

"You want to stay here with these guys who want to hang you? Be my guest, you want a ride; get in the truck." He said pointing to an old beat up truck with a brown and orange camper hooked onto the back. I looked back at the bar to see the drunken man starting towards us.

"Alright, but you can let me out in a few miles," I said as he un-locked his door, slide over and unlocked mine and opened it for me. Glancing back at the man who was only a few feet away I jumped into the passenger's side and buckled myself in as we sped off, slinging gravel from the parking lot.