A/N: Thanks for all the comments on my first chapter! (Believe me, that was a record!) So thanks Sam_Wiise_Gamjii, Winterwarrior, and Certh! I'll try to make the chapters long, but I'm not making any promises.

~Tray

I do not own X-Men

Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
Its Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry, Sir?
Daddy says there's not much time
you see, she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
and I want her to look beautiful
if Momma meets Jesus, tonight.

The radio gently sang the words of "Christmas Shoes", as Andrea drove down the snowy street from Adoration. The street was lined with bare, oak trees whose leaves now lay beneath the snow. Their branches extended over the street, seeming to avoid the power lines, and their trunks were thick and round. The snow lay on the ground, pure and clean, reflecting the sunlight.

"…If Momma meets Jesus tonight."

As the song finished, a reporter came on the station, talking slow and steadily.

"Traffic is going slowly right now on Amsterdam Road."

Interested, Andrea turned up the radio.

"Policemen and firemen have just recently responded to an emergency call. Reportedly, one of the houses has caught on fire. The police say they are not sure of the cause yet or if there was anyone in the house at the time. We will keep you updated with this throughout the night. Now, onto our highways, Traffic on I-91 is going fine and-"

A worried expression crossed Andrea's face, and she turned the radio off. Her heart rate increased while she pushed harder on the gas. In her head, she could only imagine which house on her street had caught flame. Her street, Amsterdam Road, was quite old. The houses were probably reaching 100 years old. They were all Cape-Cod styled homes, partially surrounded by oak trees. If one of the oak trees caught fire, the forest behind their neighborhood would erupt in flames. The only hope for the forest was if the firefighters arrived quickly enough.

The rest of the fifteen minute ride, Andrea could've sworn she had a panic attack. But when she reached her street, she knew her heart had skipped a beat. While she drove down the street, she could see smoke arising farther down. The closer she got, the blacker the smoke became. The blacker the smoke became, the thicker the air was, and the thicker the air was, the harder it was to breathe.

While she travelled down the long street, her hand fumbled around in her purse for an inhaler, for if the air became any heavier, she was likely to have asthma attack.

"Come on," she tapped her fingers on the dashboard.

The farther down the street she drove, the more worried she became. She knew that her house was one of the last ones, and the closer she got, the chance heightened of her family's house aflame. So many things could happen with this fire. One, she wouldn't have a place to sleep tonight, for the rest of her father's family was in Cincinnati, Ohio, and her mother's side lived in Quebec, Canada. She wouldn't be able to sleep in a hotel, for her family had no money in the bank. Her father was an asbestos worker and that only brought in enough money for the family's taxes and weekly meals, and her mother was a stay-at-home mom. Her head raced with endless assumptions of her future without her house. The results were endless. As she thought of these things, she found it difficult to cope with the 20 mile per hour speed limit, so she sped up to 40.

As she passed familiar houses, the tension in her mind rose. In disbelief she looked upon the truth. She was at the end of the road. Her car skidded to a halt, as she gazed upon the burning house. Her house. Yellow police tape surrounded the area. Inside the taped perimeter were policemen and firefighters. Small clusters of policemen stood near their cars discussing issues, probably the cause of the fire or what donut shop to go to tomorrow. Some firemen stood outside her house, spraying the house with their hoses while others were inside, searching for her mother, father, and brother.

Cautiously, Andrea opened the door of her Mustang and stepped out. One of the policemen spied her and began to walk over. Andrea took a look at her house and then at the policeman. He was tall and slim with strikingly blonde hair and electrifying blue eyes.

One look at him and Andrea thought,' Player, much?'

He looked at her and gave her a smile.

"Ma'am, is this your house?"

"Yeah, it is"

"Where were you before this fire broke out?"

"Perpetual Adoration," Andrea answered slowly.

"Do you know of any likely causes of this unfortunate event?"

"I'm not sure if it is one but our Christmas tree. It was a real one. Those are flammable, right?"

He nodded his head slowly and scribbled something down. "Do any more possibilities come to mind?"

Andrea shook her head and exclaimed," I don't know, my toaster?"

The police officer bit his bottom lip before telling her," You are aware that you mother, father and brother were in the house at the time of this burning."

Slowly, Andrea nodded her head before yelling," Oh my God, please don't tell me!"

A look of pity and pain crossed in his eyes before confirming the news;" Your mother and brother were killed in the fire. They were pronounced dead on the sight."

"Oh my, Oh my God!" Andrea cried out. She dropped to her knees, sobbing heavily. Her shoulders shook with every sob and her hands clenched the grass in a fisted rage. The girl's jeans became stained with grass and her red sleeves became damp with tears. After a few minutes she looked up at the officer, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Is my father okay?" Andrea was never close to her father but now, it was a different story.

"He is critically burnt. You may not recognize him afterwards. We drove him to the hospital immediately after finding him. He has a 35% chance of living."

Andrea pounded the ground with her fists, ripping and tearing at the grass. She didn't care if her face was sweaty or covered in mud; she already knew she had a few pimples on her cheeks. She didn't mind the fact that her crimson shirt was stained with the earth. She would give it all away for the return of her mother.

A/N: How was that? Is she starting to sound like a Mary Sue? Was it long enough? Is it as descriptive as the previous chapter? If you don't review, you will be pelted with cashews tomorrow when you least expect it! Oooh, dun dun dun.