So sorry guys. This is a story that has stuff added to it! And exactly why are two people reviewing? Only two? c'mon, that can't be right...

Anna's POV

I staggered out of school, still feeling dazed. I didn't know why I felt so disoriented, but at least Lance was helping me along. Once more, I lost my balance and Lance supported me until the parking lot. "I'll give you a lift home," he offered helpfully. "No way are you in any condition to go home in that state."

"Yo! Lance! What about us?" a voice yelled before I could respond. In the blink of an eye, a boy appeared next to Lance at the speed which was inhuman. He spotted me and let out a long whistle. "Who's the fox?" he asked, looking me up and down.

"Forgive Pietro," Lance growled through gritted teeth. "He doesn't know how to control himself, unfortunately." He rolled his eyes before adding, "Take it as a compliment."

"I think I'll take the bus," I smiled uneasily, backing away. "It's my normal mode of transport anyway."

"I don't think you have a choice," Lance grinned, flicking a finger behind me. I turned around and yelped when I saw the bus pulling away from me. "The bus just left."

"Now, unless you want to walk home…" Lance let the sentence trail. I blew a strand of hair out of my face and glared at him. "I did walk here this morning," I stated firmly. "Ran, even."

"Whew," Lance whistled. "Well, looks like you don't have a choice now. Walk or ride, and in your current state…"

"Lance, I need to talk to you. Privately." Pietro latched onto Lance's arm and dragged him off. The two of them put their heads together and started a conversation in a low whisper. I watched them intently, focusing on them. Then the strangest thing happened. I could hear snippets of their conversation, even though I was standing a good few feet away from them.

"What are you doing?" I could hear Pietro hiss, his eyes boring into Lance's. "She's not a mutant! You know what we agreed on!" Lance replied something that I couldn't make out, but I could hear the words mutant, powerful and Mystique mixed in. Slowly, I saw Pietro's indignant look being replaced by one of understanding. He looked in my direction and I glanced away pointedly. Good thing too, because I saw a huge boy, Sewer-boy and the girl I saw earlier walking towards me, or in the case of the huge boy, lumbering and Sewer-Boy was doing something closely resembling hopping. Only the girl seemed to be anything remotely normal. I quickly corrected myself when I remembered that she was a mutant like me. We weren't normal.

"We're back." Lance's voice startled me as I looked back. His arms were folded as he leaned against the car. "It's all settled. Pietro will run back to the house while all of us drop you off at your crib." I winced. "Just because I'm riding?" I asked concernedly. Lance shrugged before leaning in. "He has superhuman speed. Don't worry about him," he whispered.

"Hey, I see the pretty lady's riding with us today," Sewer-Boy said, hopping up to Lance and me at last. He stuck up a hand that looked suspiciously…eew, was that slime? I grinned and kept my hands to myself, hoping he wouldn't think it was rude. He looked at me and got the message when the girl rolled her eyes and said disdainfully, "Give it up, Todd."

"This is the rest of the Brotherhood," Lance said confidently, stepping up beside me. "That," he pointed at Sewer-Boy, "is Todd Tolensky. The morbid girl here," now he pointed at the sole girl apart from me, who scowled darkly. "is Wanda Maximoff, brother of Pietro, who you just saw shooting off. And Mr. Bulky here," he walked over to the remaining large boy and patted his stomach, "is Freddy Jones. (AN: is that his right surname? I can't remember) He's kinda fat."

"I am not fat," Fred protested, pulling his head out of the packet of chips he had been previously holding. "I am big-boned."

"I fail to see why being err…big-boned is a mutant ability," I spoke. I eyed the tremendous size of Fred. "After all, I believe the heaviest and the biggest person is 300 pounds. He can't be as heavy as that."

"Ah," Lance grinned proudly. "That's the beauty of it. Not only is Freddy here at least 800 pounds, he has the strength to withstand heavy weights on his body like a car slamming into him."

I whistled now as I glanced at Fred with new respect. The respect quickly faded when he stuffed his head in the packet of chips again. "Lance?" I queried as I turned back to the apparent ringleader of the group. "What other powers do those two have?"

"Ah," Lance said again. I suspected that he had been waiting for me to ask that question. "Todd is able to shoot slime from about ten yards away. Of course," he continued with a quick glance in Todd's direction, "his accuracy is another matter. Wanda is a witch. Not the ones that you think of," he added when he saw a startled look spread over my face. "The kind that has the power to hex people."

"Observe," Wanda said lazily, flicking a finger. Todd yelled as he rose into the air. He did a few somersaults, all the while glowing with a strange blue light. "Let me down!"

"As you wish," Wanda shrugged, flicking another finger. Todd landed with a hard crash on the ground, looking really dazed.

"Enough idle chatter," Lance said, snapping into gear. "You gotta go home, Anna."

"Oh, yeah," I remembered, sighing. I got into the passenger seat next to Lance in his battered Jeep. He started up the ignition and headed in the direction of my house. I sighed again when I remembered I wasn't supposed to make friends. I predicted that my dad would move again. Wasn't that always the case?

"Thanks, Lance!" I called, waving as the Jeep roared away. I heard the door slam behind me and I frowned in confusion. Who was home at this hour? Usually my mom wasn't home and Dad was usually at the Korean consulate working. I mean, he was a diplomat. I slowly turned around, praying it was my sister.

No such luck.

My dad stood on the door step. I tried to smile. "Hi dad," I mumbled, the words so faint even I couldn't hear myself whisper the words. My dad was staring at me with a livid expression. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged into the house by my hair.

He threw me into the wall. "Where have you been?" he thundered. I wish I knew that he was just trying to take care of me. Unfortunately, it wasn't so. He pulled me up and pinned me against the wall. I could smell the beer on his breath. Obviously, he'd been drinking again. And in that state of mind…

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" he screamed now, spraying me with spit. I closed my eyes and tried to retreat to another place. He started shaking me and I knew I had to give an answer. "The library," I said softly. But the next second, I knew that was the wrong answer. He threw me against the floor mat. I closed my eyes and wished I could sink into the fibers.

"You're lying!" he shouted, kicking me where I lay. I stifled a gasp of pain and bit my lip till I could taste the blood leaking into my mouth. "I know! Who do you think you are, lying to my face?" He kicked me again.

Then I heard the door open and slam. My mother's voice sounded from the doorway. "Sze-Chuan!" she cried, using my father's name. "What are you doing?"

"She's despicable!" I heard my father yell. Into my dazed mind comes the question why he wasn't at the consulate and was at home, but I had no strength to ask. I heard my mother say gently, "But you're killing her, Sze-Chuan. Why not speak to her gently-"

"Get away from me, woman!" my father growls angrily at my mother, whom I can see shrinks back now, fear etched over her face. "This is your entire fault! You raised her to be this way! Look at what kind of daughter you have raised!" He grabbed my black hair and yanked me off the carpet. I grimaced in pain, but I kept my mouth shut, retreating to my mental place. He dropped me onto the carpet and my head hit the floor, but I barely felt the blow. I felt myself floating away…

And then a surprising thing happened. My mother, my mother, who had surrendered to my father ages ago, actually raised her voice and yelled at my father. It was like the anger of so many years had built up and was now lashing out at my father.

"You worthless dog!" she screamed at Dad. "You're no better than a common hoodlum! Why do you think our children always hide from you?" I wanted to scream, to tell her to not endanger herself, but it was too late. Dad was already advancing on her, a hungry expression on his face. The two of them headed into the kitchen, where moments later, I could hear pots clanging and screams echoing of the tiles.

"You and your sneaky ways. This is your entire fault," my father snarled from the kitchen. I shivered, my hands sliding into the fibers of the mat.

From the kitchen, the screams continued. Finally, the earsplitting scream of my mother, followed by the horrific sound of pots crashing onto the floor seemed to wake me from my stunned daze. I scrambled to my feet, moaning as the pain from my side sliced into my body. I grabbed the phone lying next on the floor from where my father had thrown me earlier. I hastily jabbed the numbers of the Bayville police department and pressed the phone to my ear.

Almost from the first ring, a pleasant voice sounds in my ear. "Hello. Bayville Police department how may I help you?"

I was stunned that someone would actually help us. It was when the woman finally threatened to arrest me for a crank call that I sprang into action. "Help," I whispered finally. "My father is going to kill my mother."

"Honey, are you at 47 Macadamia Lane?" the woman's voice asked after a few moments. I didn't know how she knew this, but I was thankful that I didn't have to say more than "yes." I clutched the phone tightly. "Please," I gasped. "Please, please help."

"We'll be there as soon as we can," the policewoman promised. She hung up.

I sat there like a statue for a few minutes. Then my mother's cry of distress pulled me into reality again. I leaped to my feet, my side jabbing me like a knife. Speeding into the kitchen, I saw a horrific sight. My father was holding a knife to my mother's throat as they leaned over the kitchen sink. I cried out, diverting my father's attention. My mother pushed him, but his attention was fully focused on me now. My blood started to boil. "How dare you…" I hissed, my hands balling instinctively.

But surprisingly, my father didn't advance on me. Instead, he did the unexpected. He started to back away from me. He started to stutter as he pointed at me. I looked down and surprisingly, what I saw didn't surprise me at all. My hands were on fire.

And then my father passed out. He did. He collapsed right onto the floor in front of everyone.

The next moment, the police burst in. It was then that I realized my anger had given way to relief. I fell to the floor, and buried my face in my hands. It was finally over.

Hey, guys, the abusing part is actually inspired by a part of the book A step From Heaven. It's a great book so no credit to me, all credit to the book!