Disclaimer: The only character I own is Emmaline.

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Chapter 3

Emma's POV

I couldn't believe Professor Xavier had been so accepting! Maybe this place really would be different... maybe I could form a few friendships before my life went down the drain again...

There was no doubt in my mind that my life really would be ruined again eventually.

Because it always is. Just when everything feels perfect, it all blows up in my face (sometimes literally) and because there is no such thing as perfect, especially not for me.

So I began heading downstairs, to the Living Room.

I still figureed I might as well enjoy it anyway because if you don't enjoy the play life hands you, and spend all your time waiting for that ace in a game of War, you're gonna waste your entire life, so it's better to enjoy what you've got while you've got it. A memory sprung up to me; my mom used to hang sayings all over the house. One of her favorites was, "It is what it is." Tears came to my eyes, and I wondered how the littlest, Eli, was doing. It had just been Ian, Sophia, and I when I left.

I shook my head. Burying yourself in memories is not the way to go, experience told me. It was easier to just go on with life than dwell on wishes. Things that could never happen again.

Maybe Professor Xavier WILL turn your life around permanently. Maybe you COULD go back, a little voice in the back of my head whispered. "Shut up!" I hissed to myself. I could feel a pair of eyes boring a hole in the back of my head. I whipped around, to face the Southern boy-Sam?

His face reddened as his eyes practically popped out of their sockets. "Uh, um...," he stuttered. I felt sorta sorry for him and responded,

"Hi. Nice morning, huh? Sorry, sometimes I think way to much, and give myself a headache before my day has even started!" I beamed at him, even though it made me fell stupid. Nodding weakly, Sam stumbled over himself as he struggled to get away. Oops... overkill. I mentally scolded myself... wait a second, 'mentally scolded myself'? Sheesh, most of my life is mental (the crazy kind AND the inside-your-head kind).

At last I arrived in the Living Room. The news was blaring on about some silly election or dumb rant about politics. Nothing's ever changed, and who says this guy or that is going to make I difference? I though. Nevertheless, I plopped down next to Bobby, the ice dude, trying to be as cheerful as possible. Bobby raised an eyebrow, before turning back to the TV. "Aw, this stuff is boring. Can't we just change the channel to something actually interesting?" he whined to Scott.

Kurt, the German guy, supported Bobby; "Jah, change da channel! Dis is boring, for boring people!" Scott, the guy in the red sunglasses looked hurt.

"This is important stuff, guys. It's what's actually going on in the world. It's educational, and—"

"Jah, jah, ve know," said Kurt, rolling his eyes. Kitty stifled a giggle as Kurt vanished, then reappeared next to the remote with a POOF! of smelly smoke and attempted to snatch the remote, but failed. I glanced up to the screen, and saw the news lady continuing,

"Yes, and to move on from flash floods, Jerry. Last night, a family of seven was murdered in their sleep." My eyes widened, and I strained my ears to hear where, as terrifying thoughts of my family raced through my brain. All of the sudden, the channel changed to some teenager's Rock-and-Roll contest.

I screeched, tears running down my face, "TURN IT BACK! TURN IT BACK!" at the top of my lungs. Kurt's eyes widened, but Bobby swooped up the remote, and changed the channel—to some Monster Truck show! Outraged, and glared at him, and Bobby's face paled. "That might bbe my family!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, heart racing. By the time the elder boy had turned it back, the story was over. My face was pale, and the tears seemed to be trying to cause a flash flood.

"Who has a computer?" I rasped, my voice hoarse and cracked. Someone, I didn't notice who, passed me laptop with the murder story onscreen. My eyes ran over the page as tears ran down my cheeks. "Thank God," I whispered as I found out the family had lived in New Jersey and sank down into a nearby armchair. Which happened to be occupied.

"Ger-off!" the person grouched at me. I sprang back from the seat, and whispered a quick apology before scurrying away to my bedroom, scared that I would let my anger, fear, and relief get the better of me.

Hope you liked it! I'll try to write more soon! -flying feather scribbles