Rogue

(told in her point of view)

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"Oh My Gawd!" Were the first words that my birth mother spoke to me.

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32 hrs. Ago

I hated myself for turning on him like that. He probably hates me now. I love him and he knows that, but I want more in life. Is that so wrong? I know that there is a chance I'd never be able to physically touch anyone for the rest of my life and probably have no kids, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to have someone to grow old with.

I cried to myself as I took to the skies at the first light of dawn hovering for a moment or two before flying back to the Professor Alejandro's home to get my belongings. I could just fly to France, but I decided against it for two reasons. One, although not heavy, there's still a lot of stuff to carry and lastly Destiny left me a plane ticket. Key term being 'a' as in one. She must have known this was going to happen.

I left his home for the airport. The plane wasn't scheduled to depart for another four hours, but I had no place to go. I sat in the terminal with an empty seat on either side of me. I felt even more alone as I looked at them. I half expected Remy to just show up out of nowhere like he always does and put a smile on my face.

That was something I missed already. His presence. Having him near made me feel stronger and without him I felt like a straw house ready to be blown down at any moment. Pulling my knees to myself I thought of the things I liked about him. Like his scent, no the aphrodisiac of his that made me love to inhale the smell of his trench coat while he was away, missing him while he was gone.

I missed those eyes of his that glew both while he was endearing and when he was angry. They always make me wonder why people hate his eyes. Their uniquely beautiful just like him.

Almost smiling to myself I thought of the cool air whipping our faces on a long ride under the moonlight or how he would come and 'rescue' me from the confines of my bedroom in the mansion. Or that smug little trademark smirk of his that would send my heart a fluttering. I can still fill the butterflies when I think about it.

I miss his walk of confidence practically covered in bad-boyness. I miss the way he would scratch his head when he was thinking or searching for a good excuse and how I would fix it for him, then mess it right back up again. I already miss or arguments about anything and everything.

I miss him and I feel like a fool for leaving him. Why couldn't I just be content with what we had? Yet I already knew the answer to that. If we're together then we're together. I deserve a fair and deliberate relationship. I don't see any other men in the world in the same way and he should be the same way about me. I need him to feel the same way about me. I know that a part of him still loves Bella and I refuse to share his heart.

Looking at the wall clock I still had a long time so I decided to just sit and think.

"Last call for terminal 8, nonstop flight to Paris"

Snapping out of it I took my things and boarded the plane. I had a window seat. I looked at the window seeing my reflection. Then I saw something red in the reflection. I turned around heart beating to see a man with a red cap.

"It's not him." I whispered quietly to myself.

About halfway through the flight my mind drifted to the task at hand. Destiny said that my real mother would teach me something I've wanted to learn my whole life. If there was one thing that I've wanted to know for most of my life was to control my powers.

So is my mother a mutant? Is she like me? If she is that means I'm not as alone as I thought I was and if she can control her powers that gives me hope that I can too!

After eleven hours the plane finally landed. I grabbed my suitcases and walked outside into the pelting rain. I forgot to exchange my dollars for Euros, not that I had much anyway, but Destiny at least had the foresight to leave me some.

I got a room at the Hotel Regyn's since it was close to the subway and surrounded by café's. Pulling the red curtains to I just remembered that Destiny did not tell me where Annabelle Louisa actually lived. Why do adults just find the need to just not give you the answers fully?

Mentally sending a glare my foster mother's way I turned on the computer that was provided to look for my mother on the search engine when I realized I couldn't read French. Damn. Tired I decided to get some rest.

…

I awoke around what I supposed was noon. Goodness I was more tired than I thought. Running my hand through my tangled hair I sat up and headed to the dresser pulling out a simple white sundress and underwear to wear for today.

A shampooing and a warm bathing later I blow-dried my hair and got dressed. A few minutes later I was walking through a shop with books. What was dictionary in French again? If it's anything like Spanish it should sound close to dictionary … I AM COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY LOST!

"Do you need help?" the salesman asked me. Bless him. After a quick chit chat I had my book. When I came back to the hotel room the home page was where you were supposed to type in your name and room number.

Flipping through my new French to English/ English to French dictionary I was finally able to figure everything out, typed her name in, then the wireless internet connection went out. Angry I went down to the front desk demanding to know what had happened.

They of course muttered something about technical difficulties and free room service so I relaxed for a while and ate. I also went to see a few local sights before returning back to the help desk.

"I am sorry Mademoiselle, but the internet is still not working."

"Man tat sucks."

I was about to leave when I saw him looking at me funny, as if he recognized me, "May I ask you why you need the internet?"

"I'm lookin fer someone."

"And who might that be?"

"One Annabelle Louisa." I said and he laughed at near the top of his lungs.

"My dear everyone knows where she lives. Here I'll write the address down for you. The easiest way would be to take the subway …"

Well that was easy enough. But now that I had that information in hand I got shell shock. Was I ready to meet her? What would she say and more importantly what would I say? Do we look alike? Do I have siblings? I decided to go to my room again to think things out.

Pacing back and forth I knew this was childish. I'd fight Apocalypse without a second thought, but the idea of meeting my mom made me quake in my boots. Rolling my eyes at my own cowardice I left for the subway with my backpack on.

Five long hours later I arrived in Lille, a coastal city that is alongside the English Channel. In fact you could see the bottom of the UK from here. Pulling out the address again I walked past a few crowded areas to higher end residencies.

Walking as slow as possible to stall the inevitable I came upon a white beach house that looked more like it came from Beverly Hills than along the English Chanel. I went to the black gate and pushed the red button.

"Bonjour comment pouvoir je vous aide ?" (Hello, how may I help you)

"Umm do ya speak English?"

"Yes madame and you are hear because …"

"Well ya see tats along story, but I came here ta meet my birth mother Annabelle Louisa."

"Wait just a moment."

I waited impatiently for the older man to come outside. He was tall, lean, had bushy tan hair mixed in with his greys, and wore black wire glasses to match his suit. He eyed me up and down for a good long minute before he opened the gate.

"The Madame is in the back by her pool. I shall escort you there. Do you wish me to hold your … belongings?" he asked pointing to my backpack.

"No thanks."

He walked me around the estate to the back. All I saw of heart that instant was an over sized black hat and the wooden chair she was sitting on. Everything else was hidden from me. Trying to swallow my fear I was about to step forward when he rose out a hand to stop me.

"Wait here," he whispered, "The Madame can be so unreasonable at times."

Shaking his head quickly he tugged gently on the flaps of his jacket before straighten up and approaching her. After a few shared words I couldn't here he came back to me to tell me it was ok.

Heart beating ever faster I walked to her, "Ms. Louisa."

"Yes darling?" she said, face covered by big sun hat.

"My names Anna Maria, I'm yer daughter."

Her eyes raised to mine, "Oh My Gawd!"

That was the first time I saw her in a long while. We were separated far back when I was too young to remember. She had hazel eyes that were an inner brown with an outer green hue to them. Her hair was a shade darker than my own. Her skin fair, just like my own. She is wearing a boat cut white shirt and black pencil skirt with a dull grey scarf round her neck. Her black stilettos were staggering. Even though you'd have to be more than blind to not be able to tell we were related.

Ms. Louisa stood up and hugged me round the waist before backing up and looking into my eyes. Damn she's beautiful not in the hot way, but the old black and white movie couture kind of way. I almost feel ugly standing next to her.

"Annamaria I looked everywhere fer ya an I thought that, I thought that ya were killed just like yer fathah!"

"I'm ok … mom."

For at least an hour we sat outside crying together. I tried to talk, but every time I opened my mouth she shot out an apology. We didn't come inside till the butler told us that dinner was served.

"Do ya like my house?"

"It's really nice." I told her truthfully.

"I got it from my second marriage."

"Yer divorced?"

"Yep, you'd thank tat a man who's married to an Intanational model would not want ta go lookin round te bushes fer othah women! Ha, I took every penny he owned, his house, an his butler in te divorce settlement."

"You're a model?"

"Yes little miss. It was my dream since I was a little girl ta see my face on billboards, magazines, an tv. I loved te clohes, te glamour, te grace and te competition. Runway models can be so catty at times I tell you …"

"I aint never seen ya before?"

"Well judging on yer appearance I can tell tat yer not inta high end fashion. Tat's ok wit me. Aint ya bout nineteen?"

"I'll be nineteen in five months."

"Gawd ya make me feel old."

"Ya don look tat old …"

"Tat's cause I aint!"

"Was I a love child then?" I asked laughing as she smilled at me.

"Yes ya were, wanna hear te story?"

"Sure." My curiosity was defiantly peaked.

"I was eighteen years old. I was Teen Model Mississippi. I won my state and placed second at nationals. I came back home. My friend Jessie invited me to a party ta celebrate. I was there dancing ta some Prince music when I saw a man across the dance floor.

I'd never forget that day. He had brown hair down to his neck an te most mesmerizing olive eyes in te world. He had on his plaid shirt an blue jeans, I had my shirt tied at te waist with some daisy dukes on. He comes ovah ta me and asks me if I want ta dance.

Course I told 'em yes. After that night we hung out fer a month or two. We were so inlove. Granted yer daddy did get on my last damn nerves. He was always so stubborn, a risk taker, and he just wouldn't be satisfied till he taught me how ta ride a motorcycle like he did. I never got te hang of those monstrosities.

But yer fathah was also a big baby on te inside. His exterior was bullet proof. He always acted like he aint need te world, but I knew he really cared. He didn't always say that exactly, but he would show it in his smile or when we argued or how he used ta hold me on the porch under the moonlit sky.

Am I borin ya?"

"No go head," I told her thinking I sound a lot like my father, "I'm still listening."

"Alright then. Tell me when ya ears start bleedin then I'll stop."

"Ok."

"Anyway, being a man he wanted ta hav sex. I told em no. told em tat I had a future more so than he did. He wanted ta make a livin fixin cars and crap. But I did love yer fathah and eventually we did it. I was about ta start trainin fer next years competition when I realized no mattah wat I did I kept gainin weight.

My motah took me ta te hospital an ta her surprise I fount tat I was pregnant. Tat night my daddy called me a two bit whore, my motah told me ta get an abortion. I couldn't do tat cause killin ya would be like killin apart of Justin. Justin Talbolt is ya fathahs name by te way.

Scared I ran ta Justin. He took me in ta his place an by winter of tat year we were married. Not happy, but married. I accused him of ruining my life. Blammed him for why my parents hated me. Told him tat he'd never amount ta anything an I wouldn't either because of him. I told him we couldn't afford ta even send ya ta school with the salary he was making. I told him that I hated him and I wished he'd just die. Be careful what ya wish for …

One day he had enough. He was drank and instead of minding my own business I yelled at him some more and he struck me against the face. After that night he swore he's make it up to me. Tat he loved me. I told him tat I didn't believe him.

Then we had you and fer a spell there was piece. Aftah ya got bout a year old an I got my body back in shape I wanted ta model again, but yer fathah wanted ta turn me into a housewife. He wanted to take care of me. I was trying to be practical in getting another job. It was hard to afford ya.

So we argued and fussed. I regretted it now. It took me a long time to, but now I do. Then one day some blue chick come runin in our home. I was washin dishes wit ya in te high chair glaring at me cause I wouldn't let ya crawl round outside when ya father was fixing bikes.

The kitchen door opened and she came in. I screamed. Then Justin came runnin in ta see wat was wrong. I held ya an told her ta leave us lone. My husband ran infront of us to protect us. He wouldn't back down and the blue lady killed em.

I remember screaming his name, running to 'em on te floor, he apologized an told us tat he loved us before his body stilled. I remember sitting you down. It was kinda cute how you crawled into yer daddy's dead arms fer protection.

I remember grabbin a kitchen knife and swingin, but te lady jumped in te air and kicked me hard before she morphed inta a clone Justin an took ya away. I got in a car and chased her in hers. Then I chased her by foot, but I couldn't find er.

I called te cops, but they were no help. Told me ya had ta been missin fer two days ta file a missing persons report. I told those dicks tat ya were a baby! They wouldn't listen. Then I got a call from a family friend, Augusto, he asked me if I were sure that Justin was dead cause he just saw 'em drive by wit ya in te car a few miles west of where we lived.

I found out tat te blue woman was hidin ya in a hotel. I went in there ta get ya an I had ya fer a little while before she came again. This time she locked me away witout ya, took weeks fer te cops ta find me where I was hidin at.

Like I said I'm sorry." My mom started crying harder with broken sobs at that point. Had my life always been this dramatic? I didn't know how to comfort her but to tell her that everything was ok. But she insisted on knowing about my childhood, so I told her.

I first told her of what mutants were to explain the blue woman aka Mystique aka Raven's ability to morph as well as my own powers. I told her that I was happy for a long while, I also told her that I didn't remember her cause I was to young. I told her about when I got my powers and how betrayed I was when I realized who Mystique really was.

I told her of my XMen buddies, my father figure Logan, and Remy. We had a good laugh about us both falling for the bad boys laming it on genetics. Then I caught her up to why I was here in the first place.

"What can I possibly teach you besides perfect poise and how to catwalk? I am no mutant?" she said.

I was a little sad that she wasn't like me but pressed on, "I guess I'll just have ta find out another way …"

"Please stay."

"Stay?" I repeated.

"Please Anna, stay here."

"But my clothes are at te hotel …"

"We'll get them tomorrow."

"It is kinda late I guess."

"Good, Reginold, find my daughter a nice room to stay in. Tomorrow Anna we're shopping!"

"MA! I HATE SHOPPING!"

"It's good for you. You'll see. And we can talk some more."

"Damn …"

"Is that a yes?"

"No!" I retorted.

"Well your commin even if I have ta drag ya ta te stores."

"Good, ya can fail tryin."

"Hey te blind Lesbo sent ya to me, not te otah way around!"

"Fine I'll come. But that doesn't mean I agree to buy and try clothes on."

"I'll see about that. Night dear."

"Nite."

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Please Review

Gosh that was LONG but necessary. I hoped you like Rogue's entry (well point of view) because Remy's coming up next :}