Wow! One day! It's a record!! But here you are! Thanx for the comment! :P as greedy as this may sound I hope to gett more XD so please enjoy! And still don't own the x-men :P

Violet 3

Morning could not be sweeter, I awoke cold and panicked. These dreams were seriously starting to scare me. I stare at the plain white ceiling, wishing I had the energy to wipe the black bangs from my face. What did these dreams me? Was I a schizophrenic or something? Split personalities? I thought of what the other me had said. Her golden eyes seemed imprinted into my mind. I used most of my strength to grab the small mirror on bedside table. I quietly laughed; I had enough energy to grab the mirror but not to brush away my hair. I bring it up and look at my face, no golden eyes; just my bright green ones, my crooked nose and bandaged face.

I give myself a crooked smile, but it fades. What did I mean; I'll always only be me? I couldn't be better than me? I thought of how I was now, and I shrugged. Why would I want to be different? I like being me, short Asian me. So what if I wasn't good looking, I suppose I didn't really want to change. But that still didn't explain these weird dreams. Oh well I guess.

Days turned to weeks and finally after two, I was out of the hospital. My father wheeled me out, my arm was in a smaller cast and my leg was bandaged. I was still having problems breathing so I was still attached to an oxygen tank. God a month in this hole, the food was disgusting and the beds not very comfy. Breathing fresh air was such a nice change, finally I was going home.

"Well sweetie, I hope you can't wait to go home," my father smiles at me. I give him a smile back as he wheels me next to our car. I look into my reflection and see my skimpy self looking back.

My dad lifts me up and places me into the front seat of the car, "So I booked you a lesson with Jim this Friday. This guy is a master with guns; he can teach you a lot and self defense." My father smiles at me.

I pause for a second, Friday, "Dad! That's in like three days! And I can't even walk!"

My dad ruffles my hair, "Don't worry he's just going to teach the basics," he kisses my forehead. He folds my wheelchair and closes my door. I sigh; my dad was pretty serious about this whole thing about keeping me safe. I wasn't sure if I should be scared or feel safe.

My father turns on the ignition and soon we're on our way home. I stare at the Rochester scenery that flies past my window. Some green, some grey and at other times colorful. To me it's all beautiful, then again what more did I need? I now knew my parents loved me, I had a good home, and I was alive. Yet I had this hole in my chest, I couldn't help but feel that I was missing something. I looked at the backseats of the car, as cramped as it was I felt someone should be there. I pushed the thoughts out of my head, I was probably just thinking of my mother.

Finally we reach home and I peer out at our huge house. It's beautiful in an old Victorian way. The yard is a rich green and the trees were in flower. As I'm wheeled into the home my mother comes to greet me.

She looks better than she has been in years; her face is aglow and healthy. She smiles and her face is makeup free. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she is wearing a soft pink apron.

She embraces me tightly, "So good to have you home!"

I hug her back and smile, "I'm so glad to out of there."

"Well how does cake sound like?" she exclaims obviously overjoyed to have me back.

I nod and soon the whole family is in the kitchen eating my "Welcome home" cake. One big, happy family.

Bang!

The shot rings through the warehouse, echoing throughout the building.

"See told yah this thing was loud," Jim, a gruff big man with a handlebar mustache tells me. I have no idea how my father found this guy.

"But you told me my ears should be ringing," I asked confused touching my ears and their lack of protection.

Jim looked at me confused, "They aren't ringin'? Weird cause mine are and I've been firing guns for years." He shrugged it off and handed me the large pistol.

"This is a little bigger than your two little slick babies." As he told me this I had a slightly confused look on my face, two little slick babies?

He didn't notice my face, "But it's a good training gun, it'll get yah used to the idea of a gun." He bent over my wheelchair, pulled my index finger over the trigger. "Basics are, pull the trigger the bullets gonna come flyin' out. Now this here is an automatic so you don't have to pull back the hammer every time yah fire. So this is closer to the guns you have, but yours is gonna have more bullets, meaning rather than six bullets, it can hold 8. Bullets are smaller though so accuracy is needed more. However your daddy informed me he's getting hollow tipped bullets. So that's gonna be an added fire power."

All this information flew right over my head. Hammer? Hollow tipped bullets? What?

Again ignoring the confused look on my face he motioned at me to lift my gun, "So just like I did I want you to aim for those paper targets. And then just pull the trigger."

Nervous, I was now sweating, I lifted my gun to match the height of the target and my arm tensed up. My hand started to shake and my finger would not pull. "Just relax kid, here I'll help," he says sounding slightly frustrated, he brings his hand up and pulls the trigger.

However my arm is so loose now the kickback flings my hand and gun into my head. I yelp in pain and I hear a bang but the bullet doesn't hit anywhere near the target. The bullet hits the ceiling and then ricochets into the concrete of the floor.

I drop the gun and my eyes well up with tears that start to stream down my face. "Owww," I moan in pain and clutch my face in pain. I take my hand off my lip and see a puddle of blood forming in the palm of my hand.

The huge man rolls his eyes at my tears, "Maybe your daddy was wrong to send you to these classes."

I'm about to agree with him but then my thoughts go back to the other me. With her words, "You'll always only be me," still ringing in my head I ponder. I'm better than this, maybe now I'm happy but what about later? Will I always be content with being only an everyday girl? I look at the gun; I can be so much more. And a little voice in my head tells me I'm meant for so much more.

"No, I can do this," I tell him and lift my right arm again.

Still it shakes and Jim is looking at me in doubt. Personally I'm starting to doubt what I had just stated.

Sitting in that wheelchair with blood running down my chin and my face still wet with tears, I whisper under my breath, "I can't do this."

But then almost subconsciously my left arm grabs my right arm, keeping it steady. I hear in my head, "Yes you can." And then I pulled the trigger.

Bang!

I didn't smack myself in the face, nor did the bullet hit the ceiling. Hell the bullet even hit the target.

It was a perfect bull's eye.

I was so surprised I laughed in joy and clasped my hand to my open mouth.

"Holy shit kid! Even I don't think anyone's beginner luck could get 'em that perfect of a shot!" Jim exclaimed pushing his sunglasses up to see the shot." Nice shootin' kid, you're a natural!"

I smiled at my shot, overjoyed at how well I had done, my eyes hadn't been closed or anything! I look down at the gun in my hand again. No longer does it seem like a scary monster or even a killer. Now I see it as what it really is, a hunk of plastic with bits of metal shoved in it. I lift it up in my hand, I realized now that what I held in my hand was powerful. This object could strike fear into millions of people's hearts. Still I knew I would never be able to shoot another human, or even a mutant. I didn't have the heart for it.

Little did I know it was that second bullet that would send me spiraling down to my twisted destiny.