As I went about my life, I had no idea of the trouble my conversation with Magneto would cause. I just felt glad that it had been dark and that I'd lost the tail. If I knew the amount of resources Magneto had put into finding me I would've quickly scrambled to the other side of the earth.

Instead I was young and very stupid. I stayed in my city and found another job at a local library. It felt like a dream come true. I talked to adults who wanted to learn and helped them pass the GED. My young age lead to me being called a kid genius. I was incredibly flattered, of course. If a fellow GED tutor didn't want to answer a question they'd say, "ask kid genius". Since I was the youngest there, it was obvious who they meant.

It was wonderful. My love for science was being acknowledged, and this time it was different, I was praised for my knowledge and not scorned for it. Being with like minded people was refreshing. I could help others, but they could help me too. I had always gotten my information from books, but now I regularly found myself learning new things from other people.

One time, a man started crying in the middle of class. He was a veteran of the Vietnam War and thus there was nothing 'soft' about him. He said seeing me brought him hope. I didn't understand why this was the case. There had to be millions of people who were smarter or more successful than me. I just happened to be both young and knowledgeable about a lot of things. And the only reason I applied for this job was because I had been attacked by terrorists during my last one.

I wasn't that strong either, and I mean that in the physical and mental sense of the word. I dropped out because I was being mistreated in school. Rationally speaking, I knew that would destroy my chances for a lot of college scholarships, but I found I didn't care. I wanted freedom and if that meant I had to go to a less than perfect college then so be it. I'd read that a key part of success is being able to delay gratification and I certainly didn't meet that. I read because it was fun. I practiced with my powers because it was fun. I even studied because it was fun. I did everything I did because it was fun. There was no discipline involved whatsoever.

Yes, I thought a lot about my future, but that wasn't a show of discipline. It just showed how much I didn't want to turn out like the people around me. Thinking about living in poverty for the rest of my life… I just plain refused to do it.

I chalked up my habit of educating myself to my mother. She was the rebellious black sheep of her family for daring to pick up a book. In her family, the education differences between the sexes were sharp. The sons learned about "god's great planet" and learned advanced mathematics and science (while conveniently ignoring evolution) while the women did the chores. In my grandfather's mind, an education for women was an unnecessary burden. My mom sometimes read solely to spite her father, who could neither strike her for reading the good word nor praise her for knowing the Bible like the back of her hand.

By the time I was born, she'd had her first mental breakdown from the stress involved from moving away from everything she knew. I considered myself lucky that my biological father had committed suicide. He was not a nice man, and I will leave it at that. His death also meant we had a mortgage free home.

All things considered, my intellect and skills were simply the product of my being at the right place at the right time. My mom read to me, I was smart enough to see through the cult's fanaticism, and I wasn't a girl so I could freely move about to retrieve forbidden information. I would not have been allowed to travel so freely around Chicago if I were a girl.

Yes, that was how I saw things. I did not see anything remarkable about any of my achievements. I was given a life, and this was it, and I did my best with what I was given.

Why hadn't my mother, a 'god fearing woman', gotten married soon after the passing of her husband? At first, her being mentally ill had stopped most of the available Christian males from even approaching her. And then, when her illness had become less obvious and I had gotten older I had scared the rest away. I had gone on a pranking spree that rivaled Home Alone's antics.

But The Great Prankening hadn't been without sacrifice. There had been blood spilt, namely when I'd accidentally cut myself with power tools built for larger hands. But I would not be deterred. If anything, this only made me more determined to win. It had literally taken me blood, sweat, and, well… Maybe not actual tears from being sad, but does getting dust in your eye and tearing up count as well? In that case, it had literally taken me blood, sweat, and tears, and I would not give up until I succeeded!

If a well aimed water balloon did not persuade them, I'd bump into the suitors saying compromising things like, "my mom said she had these things called STD's... What's that?" while putting on an innocent face. 5 year-old me knew there was something wrong with the men my mother brought home. Back then, I misinterpreted it as them being mean, but I now know better. During that time, my mother had been more vulnerable than ever, and they wanted to take advantage of it.

One of these pranks of mine was more memorable than the others. That time, the boyfriend of the day was a doctor. I kept my eye on him at all times, thinking my usual pranks wouldn't work with him. After all, doctors are supposed to be incredibly smart, right? So I'd have to be smart too if I wanted to beat him.

One time I heard him mispronounce a medical term I knew from TV. I was delighted at the slip-up but didn't think much of it. After all, people mispronounce words all the time. But then he did it again, and then he completely misused another term. This happened repeatedly. Which made me wonder if he was even a doctor at all.

Excited now that I had a plan, I stole a quarter from his wallet and sneaked off to the nearest public phone. This coincidentally also made the discovery of my identity impossible. Not that I realised this at the time, of course.

I remember thinking, if this guy's not a doctor then he deserves to lose money for all the people he's cheated. If he is one then I'll just give it back.

Nervous, I dialed 911 and told the lady on the phone that I suspected that the man was an unlicensed and untrained doctor.

It turned out he was part of a network of fake doctors who gave faux medicine for exorbitant prices. My actions ended up saving the lives of who knows how many people who had severe medical conditions that were not being addressed. If my identity had been made public we'd have been in the bad graces of many powerful people and 'dealt with' quietly. You see, it just so happened that the state health department had known about the doctors but hadn't said anything- for a fee, of course. The scandal had stayed in the news for several weeks as government officials were outed and fired.

Back to the topic at hand, instead of saying what I thought, I smiled at the man who'd just complimented me, and said, "thanks!". I was at work and my job was to help these people earn GED's. If they found inspiration in my story, however misguided, I ought to use it to do my job better.

The job, as I said, was a dream come true. I made even more money than my previous job with the added bonus of being able to attend intellectually stimulating events on a regular basis.

Going to my job also strengthened my want for a college education. Before I knew it, my knowledge of statistics and my self confidence went to war.

The odds of you graduating are near zero, are you really willing to put yourself into debt for that? One of the voices that occasionally visited my mind said. The name I gave it was Cynicism and yes it was very well... cynical.

I am not a statistic.

But you are, complete with the single mother and the total lack of parental supervision. Our life is practically a checklist for failure. I honestly don't doubt that you- we- forget it, I can learn the material. But there are other barriers that simply being smart won't cover. How long will this GED job last? Will we be able to stay on top of our taxes and avoid losing our house?

You have a point there. But that doesn't mean we simply give up. I am willing to accept a compromise here.

I'm listening.

This lead to me studying for several CLEP tests and taking several online courses. These CLEP test were tests that I could take for college credit. I did this while going about my ordinary life. I figured that if I could excel in my academic studies while working full time that I could handle anything life threw at me.

I succeeded in this pursuit. I had big plans of going to college next semester and even entertained the notion of receiving a degree while my mom attended the ceremony crying from sheer joy.

The last part was obviously going to never happen, my mom would be upset that I chose to major in the heathen subjects that were engineering and metallurgy. The fantasy was very appealing though.

But sadly, all dreams eventually must come to an end.