Scott's mandatory teacher-forced journal he does not want to be writing.
Entry; April 14th, 1985.
Today is my older brother's 16th birthday.
I've been here for a year and three months now. Less than that, maybe. I don't know. That's the issue, without Alex around I get confused too much, I can't remember the date, or how long it's been and what the time is, I need Alex around, I don't understand why they took him from me. Or, took me from him, I guess. I don't know. I don't know anything, that's what Nate says "You don't know anything, Scotty, y'never will". Nate's not very nice sometimes.
I think he's wrong, though. I know a lot of things. I know the multiplication tables, I know what time Thundercats comes on TV (half past four in the afternoon, just after the Road Runner show), I know that I haven't seen my older brother in a year and two months and three weeks.
Today I got a phone call from Robyn, she 'just happened' to have another business trip in the area, so she's coming down to see me soon. That'll be fun, I think. I haven't seen her in a few months, I hope she's doing okay. I wonder who takes care of Flash while she's away? Flash is her dog. Black Labrador. Full name Flash Gordon. I knew him when he was a puppy, it's funny how quickly animals grow up. Makes me wonder if I've grown any.. I can't really tell without Alex around.
For lunch I had a cheese and honey sandwich. Funky combination, Nate's idea. Not half bad.
There's a chance this'll be my last weekly entry here, though. Because I might be being adopted. I hope that doesn't mess up my plans to see Robyn.
He stands up, and he hands the notebook into his teacher. She takes it.
Scott doesn't find much exciting anymore. It felt like every day things went from bad to worse. Yesterday he stepped in a mud puddle and ruined his jeans, today he fell over onto the grass and stained his favourite white shirt. More like he was tripped. By his dorm-mate, Nathan. Or, Nate, as he liked to be called.
Nate was a real piece of work to have as company, he thought. Reaalll piece of work. One minute he was more overprotective than his older brother was, next minute he was awful and giving Scott a black eye. Scott always forgave him, though. Nate had issues. So did Scott. Everyone here had issues. Kids without parents, no guidance in the world, no family, no mother to hold them.. Scott felt lucky he at least had Robyn and.. he used to have.. gosh, what was his name? His Brother. Scott forgot his name sometimes. He forget it a lot. He forget he existed in the first place a lot and he hated it. Scott hated his memory problems. This is what he gets for having his skull split open, he thought.
At least his big brother was adopted, he must be happy, with a loving family. Scott wondered how he was doing, and where his brother was. Was he still in Illinois? Could be all the way in Hawaii for all Scott knew.
He didn't mind it here, Chicago was nice, a lot of cool buildings though he didn't often get to see much off of the orphanage grounds. The times he did venture into the city made him wonder why it was 'Windy'. There wasn't much windy about it, to him at least. That's what he'd tell his brother if he got the chance to write to him, or talk to him on the phone, or maybe even see him. He'd tell him the so call 'windy city' wasn't that windy in his personal opinion.
He couldn't help but get lost in thought, thinking about his brother, standing absentmindedly in the doorway to his room. What was his name again?
A... Albert.. No, not Albert. A.. A, something beginning with A.
"Scott? What're you doing there? Look like a damn zombie."
"Alex? What?"
"Alex..? Eh, Scott, you juiced or somethin'? I'm Nate."
Scott sat down on his bed.
"... Yeah, sorry, I know, jus' was lost in thought."
"You've been doing that a lot, you must be goin' mental, hueheh, y' tard. Got a fucked up head, all y' screws are loose, Scotty, gonna need some fixin'."
"... Yeah, whatever, Just leav.. leavvvvvvee... leave.. leavee... me alone. I've got things t' do."
Scott pulled out the book he had to read for class.
Scott's mandatory teacher-forced journal he does not want to be writing.
Entry; April 23rd, 1985.
I had that weird dream again last night, the one about sitting in the white room, and my old psychatrist (How do I spell that?) is there with a clipboard, and I'm sitting on the steel bench, and then the dream usually ends. I always wake up with itchy eyes, very itchy, they've been so itchy lately, I talked to the nurse about it, she told me not to worry, but they're not just itchy they uh, they sting, too, really bad, really, really bad. Robyn's here today, she's picking me up in ten minutes, so this entry is shorter, sorry Ms. Craig. I've been waiting to see Robyn for a long while, I'm excited to see her again! Kinda sad she isn't bringing flash with her, though. Beggars can't be choosers.
It's been confirmed, though, I am being adopted. There goes my chances of seeing... him again, I guess. At the end of the months the guys coming from Joliet to meet me. He's moving to Chicago, apparently, though. I hope he's nice. Name's Jack, apparently. I've got a bad gut feeling but, you know. What can you do.
Robyn's going to take me for ice cream, and we're going to some airplane museum, gonna be a real fun day.
"You're being adopted, huh?"
"Yep."
"Guess this means this may be one of the last times I see you, Scott."
"... Yep."
"Do you want chocolate, or..?"
"Strawberry."
"Strawberry? Gosh, someone's feeling adventurous today. I'll order in a bit but, Scotty, we need to talk first."
"What's there to talk about?"
".. I don't trust the man adopting you. I don't trust that orphanage you're at either, Scott. I just.. don't. Listen, I've been doing some research, and- Uh, One strawberry milkshake for the young man.. And for me, er, give me a coke."
"You really like Coke, huh, Robyn?"
"Drink of choice. Anyways, I've been looking through things and uh,.." She quieted her voice to a whisper. "I'm going to get you out of there, Scott. Or at least try my best to." And back to normal. "But, who knows! Maybe this Jack Winters guy is going to be a uh, wonderful new, opportunity for you.. You could be very happy, Scott. Haha.. Listen, I'm-"
Scott wasn't enjoying this conversation with Robyn one bit, she seemed extremely on edge. Extremely.
"Listen, Scott, take this, it's a list of numbers, child protection agency, MY numbers, work, home, fancy new mobile cell phone, police stations, churches in the area. Take it. Keep it. Use it if you need it, okay? I just want you to be safe. You're a great kid."
She looked Scott in the eyes, and Scott looked back, and Scott felt a sway of safety and trust and shuffled the piece of paper into his coat pocket, silent.
"You really don't talk as much since Alex was adopted, do you?"
"Nope."
"Understandable."
Robyn stood up, grabbing her coat and her bag, and gestured for Scott to stand up too. "C'mon", she started, "Let's get you home, huh? Getting a bit chilly."
"Yep." Scott followed, and the two walked out the door, to the parking lot, got into Robyn's car, and Robyn with for whatever reason trembling hands grabbed the wheel.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, Scott. I'm fine. Just.. I'm okay."
Scott knew that was a lie, the poor woman looked as if she was about to burst into tears, but she was just trying to protect him. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, a feeling that was eating at him. The situation he was about to find himself in really, really didn't feel like a good one. No, not at all. But he was tough, he was a trooper. At least Robyn said he was a trooper.
With only a few short days left at the orphanage, he thought it best to start packing his things tonight, he needed to know how Nate was doing, too. Nate was pretty much his best friend, a real dick sometimes, and he said curse words waaaay too much, but, he was a good guy. It was going to be hard to say goodbye to him.
Scott's journel, this time not teacher forced.
April 28th, 1985.
Excuse my spelling and writing, i don' t have anyone here to correkt it.
nate jumped off the roof today . i don't want to write about it. apparently i'm being adopted tomorrow. strange coincidence.
Jack Winters was not a nice man. Something unusual about him, something Scott very much didn't like. Other than his criminal tendencies, his bad odor, and lack of any nice place to live. It was weird, Scott thought, that a man such as he, who seemed quite smart and quite respectable- an Ex-Scientist, he claimed he was, at least- was living in such squalor.
It wasn't just that, he was off, just.. off. No other way to put it. Sometimes it felt like he was in Scott's head. Literally. Telling him to do things, mostly to commit petty theft. Sometimes he'd be walking with him, and he'd just smash his hand into a glass window and take whatever was there, no injuries had, and nobody would bat an eye. Or, they would, they'd look at him, but then suddenly hesitate and just stand there. Reminded him a bit of how Robyn could tell people to do things. Scott missed Robyn.
He'd been Jack's 'Son', for a year now. He hadn't seen Robyn in six months. Every day he got tempted and tempted and even more tempted to dial one of the numbers on the list.
Jack would hit him, not on the regular, but regular enough it left a bruise that as soon as it went away would be replaced by another, would constantly make him do.. awful things. As said, mainly petty theft. Scott didn't like to think about it. He tried to be an optimist, as hard as it was.
Whenever he got a spare few dollars he'd call Robyn on the payphone. She'd ask about his Brother, and he would reply "Brother?". Things were hard to remember. Alex would fade from his memory and come back and fade away again and he wished one day he'd wake up and he'd be back at home seven years ago. Not that he remembered home. It was more the concept of it that made him want to go back, not the content.
July 12th, 1986.
Entry;
New journel. Jack knew where my old one is, so i've bought a new one. If anyone ever reads this, excuse my spelling and grammar and the such. no one here to correckt it, and i haven't been to school in a long time.
today i'm going to call robyn. she's in the area. she can get me away. from him, i mean. she's agreed to helping me aleady. i've been planning this for a long time.
i'm almost excited, to tell her all that's happened. she'll get me away, and take care of me, and i'll be safe. she's been talking about adopting me if i ever ended up back at the orphanage somehow. amount of times i've accidently called her mom aren't funny. i hope things work outl. even if she doesnt adopt me i just can't take it here anymore. she's going to pick me up from the basketball court and we're going to go to the police, and then she's going to drive me up to nebraska and we're going to lay low with her parents who live there while we sort things out, and there's also apparently someone there who wants to meet me. an air force buddy of her pop's, claiming he knows me. knows my name, at least. i think my dad was in the air force, or so i've been told. maybe it's him if i'm lucky.
i can hear jack yelling for me, so i've got to go.
wish me luck, journel.
When Scott woke up the next morning, he was safe. Or at least he felt safe. His plan had apparently gone, uh, according to plan. He was in a hotel room, in Robyn's arms, he felt warm and safe and he was sure he was. Robyn was still asleep by the looks of it. Scott didn't mind.
As Scott became more awake- more aware, he.. he was... his legs hurt. They hurt like he did when he was younger. Really really hurt. What had happened? He could barely remember what had happened. Life felt like a dream.
"Robyn?"
"Mn.. Scott? What's up? How're your legs?"
"Legs?"
"Yeah, legs. Are they okay?"
"... I don't know what's wrong with them, jus' they, huu... huu... huuurt. Bad. So does.. eugh. Fuck. Fuck. What happened to me, Robyn?"
Robyn sat up better, moving Scott so he was sitting on the bed, and she took a deep breath, and looked Scott directly in the eyes.
"Scott, I'm- Don't swear. Uh, I'm.. not surprised you don't remember yesterday much, uhm, how do I word this.. uhm... Scott, don't panic, but."
"Just tell me, Robyn."
"Alright, well, it's uh, a long story. But you're.. I caught Jack in the middle of, doing something very bad to you, okay? Very bad. I don't think you were conscious but I.. my eyes, Scott. I'm a mutant. Do you know what that is?
I can influence people, as in, I look them in the eyes and people will do what I say, believe what I tell them to believe. It sounds scary, but, I don't use it to hurt. I'm not hurting you. It's the only reason you and your brother didn't land yourselves in juvi right from the moment you dropped the match on that damn- or, just. Scott. It's a long story, and I'll explain it better to you very soon, but remember this; Mutants aren't bad people. We're not scary, we're just like you or me. Even YOU could be a mutant, Scott. I... Feel like, considering what I've heard about your brother- Uhm..."
Robyn let out a prolonged sigh, watching Scott's face contort with confusion. He didn't understand, but that was okay. Scott was only 13 after all. Almost fourteen. Poor thing, she thought, he's probably scared out of his wits, just can't.. gosh. She cleared her throat, patting Scott on the shoulders.
"You hungry? How about we go get breakfast.. McDonalds? You like McDonalds, Sc- Oooh, gosh, your legs, that's right. We're going to need to buy you some new crutches, since yours are back at the orphanage, aren't they.. Hum."
"You haven't even told me what's happened with 'em."
"... Scott, uhm, Jack, he- he did something bad. Okay? Bad."
"What, did he 'touch' me? Thas' not really new news to me if he did, I.. he's not a good man, I 'unno how he, he.. Awgh.. Legs."
"Scotty... I'm sorry. I'm really sorry they ever let you.. I- Oh, gosh, goshgosh, legs hurting? Lay down, Scotty. Shh. Lie down, I'm here, uh."
"I'll be okay, I'm used to it, I just, I wish.. he was here."
"He? Who's he, Scott?" Robyn caressed Scott's hair, watching the boy droop slowly back to sleep.
"A.. ahhhlex."
"Ah.
Still not over those speech issues, huh?"
"Prolly never will be."
"Tough."
July 14th, 1986.
Scott's new Jounral.
Today I woke up back at the orphanage. I don't know why. I don't know how I got here. All I can remember of last night is loud noises, bangbangbang. Gunshot type. And I remember her, the blonde woman, the one I knew back in Alaska. Miss... Emma? I don't know, she was there, and the Wolfman. I've seen that Wolfman around. I don't know what happened, or what they did. I was with Robyn, but the rest is just a fog. It hurts my head to think about it.
Maybe all of this has been a dream. I'm surprised I'm back here. I really, really don't understand what's going on.
To top it off, Nate came to me in a dream last night, I had the dream about the white room again, except this time Dr. Essex WAS Nate. Maybe it means something? Hurts my head to think about that, too. What's going on with me? I wonder.
I was sure I saw Nate, too. Dr. Essex was outside this morning, in his fancy car. I don't know why he'd be here, it'd make sense if I really did see Miss Emma at some point last night but other than that it's lost to me.
I can't move my leg properly still. It's like being a little kid on crutches all over again, this time without him here to help me. I wish I could remember his name more often. My big brother's name.
I don't know where Robyn is or what's happened to her, no one will tell me. Damn it.
I have to go talk to the staff and some policemen soon, and a man, I don't know what they want from me. I'm going to go try to get myself together before I have to do that.
September 20th, 1986.
Scott's new Journal.
I've finally learnt how to spell that. It's a whole new period of my life now! Look out world, Scott Summers can spell!
I saw Nate in the streets today, or at least I think I did.
Had some Macaroni for dinner tonight.
One of the staff here said they think I'm hallucinating. I don't know what that means.
Things are boring.
I miss Robyn.
February 8th, 1987.
Scott's journal.
i saw him on tv today. him. my brother.
i dunno what he was doing on there. he was wearing this weird costume looking thing, doing some funky stuff . i'm too tired today to write properly, sorry, ms. craig.
he looked so much older, a lot bigger than when i last saw him. he was with some other people helping with some military looking thing and a boat. i don't know, it looked strange. really big guy they were fighting, looked like a blob of fat.
i feel like i probably made it up in my head. i miss alex a lot.
August 3rd, 1987.
Scott's Journal.
My brother stole me? From the orphanage. He took me in the night? With some hippie. I don't trust either of them.
I'm in the back of a car right now, I'm tired, and I'm perplexed.
I don't even know if this guy is my brother. Could be the police. Could be the man Robyn wanted me to meet a while back.
This other fella is suspicious, too. Much too friendly, overenthusiastic. Looks like he bathes in golden water.
These two stole me, and, I don't know where I'm going. But at least I know his name now. May not be a lie, after-all. I wonder how they got past the caretaker so easily. She seemed, almost too compliant.
