Disclaimer: the only character I own is Emmaline Carlson. :D

Hope you enjoy! Please read and review! I updated completely & started from scratch. Hope you prefer this version!

Chapter 2

Emma rolled restlessly. She did not want to go to High School in the morning—she wished the professor had allowed her to go to regular middle school, or even better, let her do home school. Gradually, Emma drifted off into dreamland, no matter how hard she tried to stay awake.

She glanced down at the boy's shirt, where red was slowly blossoming over the white, dark red blood, and he lay limply in her arms.

Suddenly, gasping for breath, Emma woke for a moment, fighting against sleep, but plunged back under, into a old memory, terrible nightmare.

"We said—quit trying to stop us! You can't, you know so why even try?" Emma stared at the boy in the face.

"I don't care. YOU ARE BEING STUPID!" she yelled, anger surging through her veins. She felt herself blinded by a sudden flash of light, and then watched at the boy began to die. Compassion overtook her anger, for no matter how stupid someone's actions were, Emma's strength and weakness was that she always felt what they were, and felt terrible if she so much as squashed a mosquito.

But then she opened her eyes, back to the playground where everyone was staring at her. The boy who she had yelled at did not exist to them, since he was only a mental image. Emma looked into her best friend's eyes, Alexa's eyes. Inside of them she could see the fear, and then the hatred. Before that, she had still been considered the odd one out. People came to her, and told her things in another place, while her body slept. Yet now their feelings were disclosed. Six years old though she was, with tips of infromation about where to go being whispered into her ears, she had followed. When the teacher finally came down, the kids were acting normal, the screams she had heard were gone. No one ever thought about Emma again, nor did she want them to.

Sweat running in pools down her face, she woke. Emma hated those dreams in the same way the children hated her, the fact that the dreams told her too much was overwhelming. At least she hadn't dreamed about the students.

EMMA's POV

Early that morning, I headed down to the professor's office. I knocked loudly, and his voice called out, "Come in." Tentatively, I sat down, hating the tension in the room. Hating the tension even though I knew just how strong a word like hate was.

"I'm not going. I can't. Bayville High won't treat me any different than... than the other kids did."

The professor calmly folded his hands, looking me in they eyes, but I averted my eyes to the desktop before I could glance at him. "Emma, I'm sure it will be different. You are much older now, and much more sure of yourself." My eyes flashed at what I felt to be ignorence, even though it truthfully was far from such a thing.

"It won't be any different! You don't realize it, do you? I was six years old-that was half a lifetime ago, but I have little more control then I did then, just more infromation!"

"No, Emma, you have gleaned control from your comprehension of your powers. The reason I am sending you so far ahead, Emma, you know very well; although you are smart, if it were not for this outside source informing you of things even I do not fully understand, you would be in your grade level. But, because you have learned of things far beyound your years, I feel you would best be educated at Bayville High."

"Pardon me, Professor Xavier, but you have not seen me angry, or even annoyed. Right now I am slighly irritated, but no, not annoyed. I can't control my powers any more than Scott can," I stated firmly.

The professor sighed. "I know full well how easy it is for you to let you attention wander for a moment and lose control but I still think you could do it if you put your mind to it."

I responded with ease, "I won't even consider budging voluntarily from this seat until you explain to me how my abilities work." Professor Xavier let out an even bigger sigh.

"Emma, your powers are very confusing. I do not think we have even scratched the surface, but I will tell you what I see fit for you to know. In the most basic sense, you can tune into different energy feilds and control them. But I am afraid the details go far beyond that. It seems that you do not tire out easily because you can unconciously absorb energy. When your emotions run high, you lose control, and if the emotion is negative, you withdraw energy, and if the emotion is positive, you will 'heal' or give energy to the subject of your thoughts. You also have the ability to 'read' their energy, and find memories, feelings, and illness. Honestly, though, the reasons of your odd dreams, predictions, and writing are about as clear as a bog." Charles pushed himself back from the desk, and looked out the window.

"I'm not going. Basically what you just told me confirmed my fears; I cannot control my powers, and am a hazrard and hindrance to others." My eyes filled with tears, and I prepared my self to go home-hunting again as I stood up to leave.

"Wait, Emma. I do think I could attempt putting some sheilds in place, and help you gain control." My eyes watered, and I swiveled around to look at him. My peircing gaze likely shocked him, but he his his emotion well. At least I had no clue as to what was going on in HIS mind of minds.

"You still can't give me a life to live. No one wants to live with a freak who can kill them by being in the same room. Who would want to be my friend? People are all alike, and you being genorous does not mean everyone else will react the same way to me. Even other mutants can't stand me! They stare as I walk by, and I don't think they care like you do. A heart can't be mended with tape, sir. 'A house is built with boards and beams, a home is built with love and dreams.' You can offer me a house, but not a home! But there is no where else is there?" I sank slowly to the floor as hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Emma, you can make my house into a home. Everyone has to make their place in the world." With that, helped me up, and I slowly exited the room, sad and happy that Professor Xavier had been so accepting, and I set my heart on making this mansion into a home, not a house. And when I set my heart on something, I do not waver in my journey.

I hoped you liked it! The old version was terrible, and I sincerely hope this one is better. Please review! Thank you to those who have read, reviewed, and/or followed. I did this one on 9/22/12.

-flying feather scribbles