((Grrr can't sleep and I'm drowning in tiger balm cuz my side really hurts so I decided to write this chapter :) Hope you like it.
3 things before you read on:
1. The flash backs are in italic
2. In a scene following the credits, Dr. Moira MacTaggert checks on a comatose patient who greets her with Xavier's voice. This is a reference to a statement Xavier made earlier on in the film while teaching a class, where he discussed the ethics of transferring one's consciousness into the body of another, who, in this case, had no consciousness to speak of, although all organs and circulation were functioning normally. The film ends as Moira, shocked, whispers, "Charles?" that will come into play later, hint hint.
3. Its a pretty dark chapter so watch out))
Chapter 3
I reached up to move hair out of my face when I felt unfamiliar and painful tug on my arm. I looked down at the IV in my arm and my plus quickened. I took in my surroundings and it did nothing to help the heightened fear that was creeping its way into my mind. The room was white and sterile; it was different yet much too familiar. The flashes start, jumping in random order, going from age to age.
I'm 12 and Jess has come home with another failing grade and this is where it all begins; the abuse and beatings start here.
"Dad, no don't hit him! He can't help it! It's not his fault!" my father back-hands me across the face.
I pull the IV from my arm in a frantic attempt to rid myself of the memories. I sit up and the room spins so I sit on the cold mettle table.
I'm 14 and father has caught me kissing one of the only mutant friendly boy at the school and he's not happy. He takes the knife to arms and makes a steady line across.
"That'll teach you, it'll teach you to be a dirty little slut. I'll kill you, I will," he mutters and he inflicts both physical and mental pain on me. My red fur bleeds a deep crimson.
The room stops moving enough for me to tear the little wires from my chest, arms and face. The steady beeping that once measured my heart rate went silent; for it no longer determined anything.
I'm 13 and my father leers over Jess with a baseball bat, hitting him over and over again just because Jess doesn't understand that he has powers and doesn't know how to use them yet.
"Jess! Jessy! Get off of him you fowl piece of crap! He's only 8; he doesn't know what it means!" I try to pry the bat from my drunken fathers hand with my own fur covered ones but its no use; he hits me away. I jump on him and the fate blow to Jess's head that would have killed him misses. I was locked in the basement for that one.
I franticly search for an exist and I find a door that it opens on my approach. I skid into the hall and look down each way; there is no one. I'm not sure if I want there to be people or not.
I'm 14 and this time I hold the knife to my own arm. Contemplating where or not to take my own life. It would save my horrible father the trouble, because undoubtedly he will kill me sooner or later. The bitter cold of the mettle blade touches my skin but I stop. I stop because of my sweet and innocent brother Jess. I'm his only true family, the only one that holds him when he cries. He doesn't belong with my father; he belongs with me.
Tears pour from my face as I blindly run. I'm not certain as to where I'm going, I only know I'm going someone where; trying to out run the painful recollections of my vile past.
I'm 16 and I try to convince my brother that we need to leave. To get out but Jess can't leave. He needs to stay here because he needs to be close to mom.
"No, Shae-shae its okay," he shrugs my hand off.
"It's not Jess, you can't stand their and tell me that it's not. We have to leave," I try to start up the old argument again but he wont hear it.
"No Shae, I'm not pulling you out of high-school for me," he tries to leave but I catch him.
"It's for both of us," I look strait into his eyes. He shakes his head and steps out the window, and floating down to the ground below. I watch after him and he walks down the darkened street, things moving around him as he practices his power. A 20 year old man stuck in a 11 year old body. If I had it my way, he would never have grown up so fast but I never got my way. I turn back to the window and see him vanish around the corner, unaware that this is the night that Jess is going to die.
I brace myself for a memory that I know is coming next. It's the most raw and heartbreaking one that I have stored in my mind.
Jess come late and I try to get to the door before my intoxicated father but he beats me there. Jess opens the door and my father grabs his shirt and pulls him up. I tug at his arms, trying to get him to let go but he wont budge and Jess is slowly turning blue.
"You were, out there doing magic. I saw with my own two eye. I said not to!" he screams in his face and drops him to the ground. I clamber to him but father pulls me back by my tail and i shriek in pain. He pounces him and I faze and jump at him, but he turns and strikes me with so my force that I fly back and hit the wall.
I try to pull myself up but its too late and my drunk father already has a gun out. I let out a the closed thing a wolf can to to crying as he shoots my baby brother.
I stop moving and slid to the floor. I curl up into a ball and sob.
"It was a terrible accident," my father lies smoothly. "I can't even fathom where he got the gum from," he shook his head solemnly. I stand mute by his side as the doctor informs us that Jess is dead. His fault. His fault that my only family is gone, the fault of the man now faking sadness. This man has never truly been my father. Only a man that for some reasons my mom loved and I had to put up with it, but not anymore, because I was leaving.
"Shae?" asked a tender voice I look up, at an Angle. I take in a shaky breath and a new wave of tears rolls in. It's all too much. I've woken up in too many hospitals do to 'misfortunes' to be able to take it well.
I cry myself dry in his arms. "I-I'm sorry," I hiccup. "It j-just hurts s-so much."
"Why?" he hugs me closer. I took in deep excruciating gasps as I tried to steady my breathing. Once I was back in control I answered
"Everything," I whispered. "I-I don't really want t-to talk about i-it, but thank y-you," my head pounds from crying and all I want to do is sleep. And that's exactly what I do; I fall asleep in the arms of Warren. I haven't felt this safe and loved since I was 11; when I mom died.
((Oh, god I'm depressing… I'm sorry 'bout that. If I have forever depressed you I apologise for that. I'll try to have things… nicer next chapter. Hugs and kisses))