Disclaimer: I own a poster with Angel on it! It stares at me...O.O

Note: Sorry about the long wait guys. I was away from my computer for a longer time than I expected. Plus, un-inspiration found me and it just recently left. "I like the way you move" by BodyRockers can help you get back in the writing mood!


I remember very clearly the yelling and the warm, salty tears, and the arguments we had. I remember the looks of disgust as if they'd been etched into my brain. "A curse, Warren. Not a gift, a curse," He'd tell me over and over again until I stormed off, sick of the fact that anyone different was a curse. A curse that needed a cure until they could be loved properly. Like that kind of love was real anyway.

So, my father invented the Cure. He believed it would solve the mutant "problem" and everyone, human and homo superior alike, would be kissing his feet and thanking him. They didn't. They hated him for it and suddenly he was caught up in something he couldn't understand.

I ran from that cure the day he tried to give it to me. I leapt out that window, unfurled my wings, and glided above the heads of an astonished many. And I felt free for the first time in years. The hated harness was gone, the wings were open, and the wind was swirling over every inch of them. I shut my eyes and just flew. This was how it should've been all those years.


I was taking a quick break, hidden in a park, when I heard about Xavier's institute. A man and a woman were talking about sending their son there and from their hushed tones it was obvious they were slightly ashamed of him. My eyes narrowed, and I shot out of the trees, in full sight of them. I made firm eye contact with both of them while my wings flapped slowly in the air and then I flew away and straight toward the school.

When I saved my father after the rebels threw him off the roof of his lab, he simply stared up at me and I back at him, his jaw slack. I knew what he was thinking. " If he didn't have the wings…I'd be dead." Served him right. I don't keep in touch with him anymore. I don't think he even knows where I am or if he even cares. I saved his life and then left. And I don't want anything more to do with that part of my past.


I never got to meet the famous Professor Xavier, and it was obvious that the subject was a sore spot for everyone. I never met Scott Summers either. And the glimpse I got of Jean Grey, wasn't really Jean at all. So, the only people I know personally are the students, Logan, and Storm. And I've only seen Logan once or twice.

Storm asked me to start teaching history since they're a bit shorthanded, so that's what I do now. I've never had real class education, but I did have a private tutor. (Only the best for "daddy's little freak".) Thanks to him, I know a bit about the world's past. (Riddle me this: If people hate wars fought over racism, why are we still doing it, even though we know what'll happen every time?) I think being closer to the kids' ages helps a bit because it's more like I'm one of them instead of a controlling adult. Not that anyone is really controlling around here.


I like to get up really early just before the sunrise and take off. I just fly around the grounds and sometimes to the park nearby. When I get back, I always notice a small crowd outside watching me. They try to be discreet, but I can tell and I don't mind. These days, we really do need an Angel around.