Mutants

Elmy

I must look crazy. My hair is a mess, my eyes are puffy from crying, it's thirty-five degrees out and I'm sporting an old pair of shorts and a ratty T-shirt. Foster care clothing isn't really that fashionable. Foster care isn't really that fashionable. My foster mother, Marcy, smokes whatever she can and avoids me. Martin, her husband, works and comes home to Marcy who is too high for him and takes out his manly needs on me. That's why I cried. I cry after. Marcy likes her stuff. One time I dropped a dish and she pressed the hot tip of her cigarette into me before locking me in the cellar. Whenever I did something wrong I was punished. I was clutching onto Perfect boys' jacket, sticky note, and physics notes I copied down for him. I gave in and put his jacket on over mine. It warmed me up enough to stop shivering.

The bus arrived, the bus to Little Rock, the only bus that stops at Little Rock prison. Thursday night was an eventful night; first, I talked to Perfect boy, second, there was a note on my bed from my father asking for me to come visit him. He was in jail for neglect, he left me in a crack house when I was three. I've been in foster homes ever since. I got a little nap on the bus before it dropped me off at the prison. I controlled my hair before going to see my father. The wait and process was long and tedious. Eventually, I was escorted to a room where my father, looking exactly how I remember him, sat in a chair handcuffed to the table. I sat down across from him.

"Elmira," he said adoringly. I wasn't convinced. "You've grown up so much." He tried to touch me but the handcuffs restricted him.

"What do you want?" Why did I come? Was I expecting an apology? He looked around the room. His face got very intense.

"Do you remember your mother? Do you remember how she died?" I never met her but I remember him telling me she died in a car accident.

"Yes."

"I lied, she didn't die in a car accident. I killed her." He's crazy. "She was a mutant, I'm a-you're a hunter. But...you're also a mutant." I stood up so abruptly the chair fell over. This is a joke. This is a sick joke. My name in that book. That book. Those gold eyes. My father. All a sick, sick joke. His voice got very low. "Elmy, you have to pick a side, pick a side before they try to kill you. I was supposed to but I failed." I banged on the door for them to let me out. They came rushing. I grabbed my personal affects and ran. I ran to the bus station. I ran until seven. I ran to the front door. I knocked. An unfamiliar face, similar to Perfect boys, opened the door.

"Is... uh..." I don't know Perfect boys name! The boy smiled, the smile pierced my walls of security and composure. To be fair they're pretty thin walls.

"Are you looking for Chase?" His name is Chase? "Why don't you come in?" His eyes flashed gold like Perfect boys.

"Oh, could you just give him this?" I tried to hand him the jacket and notes but he just glared at me. I felt fear intoxicate my blood stream. I should run. I should run fast and far.

"Luther, who's at the door?" I heard Perfect boy shout from inside the house. Luther opened the door wide to reveal me to a large group of people.

"Elmy, you came!" Perfect boy-Chase-stood to greet me with a hug but I just handed him his stuff instead.

"Elmo?" The boy, I'm assuming his name is Luther, who opened the door said. "Like Elmo?" I ignored him and focused on getting out of here.

"I actually have to get going." I imagined going home to Martin, he would be drunk by this time and watching TV. I could stay. There's no drunk molesters here. At least, I don't think there are.