The Mutant World [UNFINISHED]

1

I open my eyes. The first day of school. Great. I sit upright on my bed and rub my eyes. The sunlight peeking through the blinds of the window create a soft glow upon my room. The light blue shade of paint on the walls reflect the sunlight in a pleasing and calm manner. My mind suddenly remembers that I can see my friends more often now at school. I smile and push myself off my bed with a new jolt of energy. I take two steps to face my closet and take a moment to stretch before sliding the doors open. Inside are a good handful of clothes, but my mind focuses on two different options for an outfit: a white dress or a pair of jeans with a white, low-cut shirt. I ponder for a moment while standing on the hardwood floor as it cools my bare feet before walking out of my room and down the hall to find my dad sitting at our diner table.

"Hey, Dad," I begin, walking up to a man reading a newspaper with his elbows resting against the wood table, "What's the weather going be like?"

"Sunny," he replies in a gruff voice as he turns to the next page. Finding that answer unacceptable I continue to prod.

"Will it be windy-sunny or humid-sunny or hot-sunny?" I press on, leaning against the cool wall near me with my shoulder. I reajust my sleeve of my t-shirt to cover my shoulder and lean against the wall again.

"Hot-sunny," the man replies, not looking up from his newspaper as he sips out of a nearby coffee cup.

"You know, you only have fifteen minutes before the bus gets here," my dad replies nonchalantly after setting his mug down on the table. 

"Thanks, Daddio," I thank him in a goofy manner before darting off to my room. The man grunts shortly as I leave, flipping the paper to the next page.

"Dress it is," I whisper out loud to myself while grabbing my plain, white dress. It's my favorite of the three dresses I own. I have a black one that has a bit too thick of fabric, so I wear that on windy-sunny days. My other dress is a lavender colored dress that has very thin fabric and I usually wear it on humid-sunny days. The dress I am holding is just the perfect thickness of fabric for hot-sunny days and was constantly worn by my mother when she was my age. I regularly hear she was very beautiful and that I get her good looks from her. I obviously got her secret, wings, but I'm not too sure about good looks. I don't remember much of her, only a short memory -- the last time I ever saw her.

My dad's secret is telepathy. He doesn't use it very often though, he's too afraid of the elite soldiers arresting him. He says it's because he "just doesn't want to use it for bad purposes," but I know the truth.

I go to a mirror to see how I look. My long brown hair falls over my shoulders on the pale white dress. The dress itself is very simple with no frills at all, just clean cut lines. I lean into the mirror and see a pair of bright blue eyes, or my father likes to call my mother's eyes, peering back at me. I take a step away from the counter before unfolding my wings slowly. I sigh in slight frustration as I look at them and notice how much they really stand out. Most likely because they are black, huge, long and bulky. Weird, I know. Usually, a person with wings gets the passed-down color of the person's family once they turn eighteen years old and before then, they are all completely black or grey. My dad had told me the night of my eighteenth birthday that my mother's wings were a mix of gorgeous blues, and that when I slept all my feathers will fall off and be replaced with a range of light to dark, blue feathers. I was really excited and could barely sleep at all that night. I woke up early on my birthday morning and ran to the mirror; they were still black. I don't understand it, but after a couple of weeks I've learned just to accept them. I still have time for them to change, maybe I'm just late.

I fold my wings back down. They fit through two small holes in the fabric so that they can be comfortable while wearing clothing. All my clothes are like that. I smile at the cheerful girl looking back at me and slide my feet into a pair of nearby sandals. Actually, they are the only pair of sandals I own. I don't usually like to have my feet exposed and without socks, but I'm in a confident mood today for some reason.