In a world full of mutants, Olivia Peters does anything but stand out. All of that changes when the apocalypse dawns on the world. The world's first mutant re-emerges with a plan to destroy the world as they know it. Forced out of her box, Olivia mu...
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THE MORNING WAS PERFECT in every way. It was her eleventh birthday and Olivia couldn't be more thrilled. Her parents would be home all day — no work calls, no emergencies, just Olivia. Her eyes fluttered open just as her mother knocked on her bedroom door. "Olivia? Are you awake?"
She was already sitting up, bouncing from excitement. "Yup!" Olivia yelled. The door creaked open, her mother's bright face peeking through. She winked and Olivia giggled. "Mama! Stop!"
At her words, the door opened wider and her father strode through, parading a tray of food, her mother filming from behind. "Happy birthday to you!" They began to sing, and rather poorly in Olivia's opinion.
The young girl laughed and clapped along with them until the tray of food was placed on her lap. "Breakfast in bed!" She cheered. Breakfast in bed was a rare occurrence but a tradition in the Peters household and it was one Olivia looked forward to every year. "Thank you!"
On the tray were all her favourites — pancakes, turkey bacon, apple slices, maple syrup — everything you could want in a breakfast. Her mother sat to the left of her and her father on the right, both smiling wide. "Eat up. You have presents to open!" Her mother said, poking the girls' side playfully.
Olivia's face lit up. She ignored the protests of her parents as she inhaled her meal as fast as she could. She didn't care about the hiccups that resulted, she was too excited. She swallowed the last bit of pancake and burped. "Presents?" She looked between her parents excitedly.
Her mother sighed and glanced at her father, who nodded. "Alright, we can-" Olivia didn't wait for her to finish — the young girl sprang from her bed, throwing off the covers and running towards the living room. "Olivia! Slow down!" Her mother called after her daughter. She took out her camera once again and rushed after the child, father in tow.
But alas, she has missed the reaction. Olivia stood in the middle of their living room, hands covering her mouth in shock. Right in front of her was her very own electric guitar — not her father's, which she learned to play on, but her own. And to top it off, it was yellow, her favourite colour. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She cheered, running to wrap both her parents in a hug.
Her father chuckled deeply. "You are very welcome, dear," He ruffled her hair lovingly. "Why don't you play us something?" He knew she had been working particularly hard on a Beatles song.
"Yeah!" Olivia gasped. She could finally show off her long-practiced skill. "One second, I have to plug in the amp!" She rushed to the guitar, caressing its bright yellow shine before heading to the amp sitting next to it.
