POLTERGEIST: AN X-MEN FAN FICTION

CHAPTER THIRTY

My screaming continued as I choked on unsteady breaths, the other children began to seek refuge underneath desks and chairs, their eyes wide with obvious fear. I felt bad for them a little, I must admit, but they had gotten what they deserved. They had pissed me and Poltergeist off which really wasn't a good thing to do. But now I had better things to worry about.

Like the terrifying fact that a desk was going through my waist.

Before I knew it, Hank abruptly opened the door with eyes the size of saucers as Charles followed. He was surprised as well, but he managed to keep a stone hard facial expression as he made his way towards me.

"Makayla..." He said loudly, mocking the tone a father would use when scolding his unruly son. "Settle down—"

"CHARLES!" I screamed, body trembling. "W—W—What do I do?!"

He tone was powerful. "Settle down. You don't want to set of your powers more and materialize while your still in the desk—"

"WHAT—"

"Listen to me, Makayla. Slowly walk forward, out of the desk."

Still trembling and barely able to cease the quavering in my lips, I closed my eyes and took large step slowly. I opened my eyes again to happily find that my body was perfectly in tack and I was no longer inside a desk.

"There we go...." Charles said soothingly, allowing me to hug him and softly weep on his shoulder. "I understand you're scared. I would be too."

I wiped a tear from my eye and tried to smile. Charles smiled back and rubbed my hand, attempting to calm me down more because a single light still flickered doggedly. The students in the class remained still as statues, and I turn to look at them will a hard stare.

Amanda and the other responsible for my incident simply looked away or backed away, which pleased me to some degree. I just didn't know why children here seemed to hate me.

"Come on, Makayla." Charles said, his eyes focused on the malfunctioning light. "It's time to go. You need some rest. It's been a long day."

I nodded in agreement. Charles was right about that. Nothing had gone as planned. I wanted to leave.

I began to make my way out of the door, but Charles stopped me. "I will be in your room shortly." He paused, staring at the restless teens. "It's nothing, I just want to talk. I have to deal with something now, so Hank will bring you to your room." He turned to deal with the students as Hank and I exited.

We walked down the halls rather quickly, and with each step I grew weaker, and the awkward silence that always fell upon us grew denser. Eventually, I fell, and thankfully Hank was there to catch me. "Woah," he said, caught off guard. "I gotcha..." He swiftly lifted me as though I was nothing, holding me like a soldier would hold another wounded warrior. "T—Thanks..." I mumbled.

I was extremely joyful when we made it to my room. Hank placed me gently on my bed, tucking me in gently and pacing around the room because he didn't know what else to do. I lied down with my eyes shut lightly, breathing softly.

"Makayla? Are you okay?"

I opened one eye. "Y—Yes...Hank... I'm just a little weak."

He looked a bit worried and ran to my side. "Weak?"

"It's normal, don't worry. Remember, I'm basically a living dead person."

He chuckled a little in a nervous way. "Yeah... Well, if you need anything I'm here for you."

"Thanks Hank..."

The silence resumed.

Then Hank said something strange.

"Is Poltergeist real?"

I stared at him dumbfounded. "W—What?"

"Is...she real?"

I scrunched my eyebrows as if I was experiencing sharp pain. "I'd like to say so."

"Professor has theories about her."

"Theories?"

"I shouldn't say."

"To late for that. Now you have to."

He sighed. "He thinks... you might be...exaggerating a bit about her."

"Exaggerating? What, like fabricating? Making up? Lying?"

"He says you shouldn't be so worried about her. You should ignore it."

"Ignore?!" I spat out, sitting up from my laying position. "How can I ignore something that basically rules my life?"

Hank noticed my sudden revulsion. "Not my words. I'm simply telling you what Charles said."

My eyes squinted. "You can tell Charles I said to—"

Charles wheeled himself in the slightly opened door. "Excuse me, am I interrupting something?"

"No," I said flatly. "You're not."

"Good," He returned the tone of voice. "Now we can talk."

Hank shut the door.

"Alright. Ask away."

Charles shook his head, but his eyes remained on me. "Not to you. To Poltergeist."

If it was possible, I looked even more dead at the sound of that. I felt woozy.

"Y—You can't talk to her! That's not possible!"

"Perhaps I already am." He stared at me in a way that made me want to scream.

My eyes turned white and the room turned cold. My right hand trembled back and forth, but my left hand firmly grasped it, frightening me a bit. I hadn't told it to do that.

"Charles..." My voice was smooth, my eyes blinking slowly in a calm and collected manner which was the complete opposite of how I felt. My voice sounded a bit different, but I ignored it. "She's not something you can really talk to."

Any small sign of happiness left on his countenance had completely disappeared. "That's all." He said abruptly with no emotion whatsoever. He suddenly turned to wheel himself out the door, letting Hank leave out first.
Them he turned to me, glancing at me like an untrusted enemy.

"I don't know which one of you is listening right now, but I'm telling Makayla to listen to me. If she ever acts up, I want you to fight. Because sadly, I might not be able to do anything about it..."

Then he left.