SILVER | P. Maximoff [X-MEN]

Ⓧ | Folded Memories

•••
1973

The slow and barley moving ladybug on his windowsill said it all. As the Maximoff boy stood still, he felt the world pause around him. Correction, it wasn't paused, It was just dreadfully slow for him. Moving faster then the world around him, the boy always waited for the world to catch back up.

However, in the long-run he enjoyed life at a faster speed. Peter enjoyed the rush, that one certain feeling the boy got when he stolen something. The rush of excitement and instant challenge made him feel in the moment.

Walking into a store, he couldn't help but to take something on the way out. When he gripped his hands on a TV set or another box of tasty Twinkies, everything felt to slow down around him. The boy felt unstoppable with the breeze he got through this silver coloured hair and that feeling that he could take on the world. Sure his kleptomaniac habit was a bad one and he knew that, but it never stopped him the next time he did it.

For the longest time he could remember, the silver haired boy originally hated running. He hated doing laps in gym class and running in general. By the time Peter got his mutant abilities he had started to like running more than anyone. His powers made it so easy, he was there one second and something else the next. The world around felt slow while he was the only one fast enough to race it.

Now with his mutation, the boy didn't seem to sweat or become exhausted by running. He simply just couldn't get enough of it. With his enthusiastic attitude he joined the track team when he was fourteen. When he ran against them, he tried to slow down so he wouldn't stick out, but he could win with each time, there was no problem. By the end of the track season he began to end up to get fed up for waiting for people to catch up and soon he started to go at his own speed again.

In return, the boy broken eight world records with ease. Peter felt proud however he was eventually thrown off the team. They suspected that he was cheating, they thought that he was using something to cause him to run faster, they disqualified him for being a mutant and now he was banned. Therefore he began his bad stealing habit.

Peter sat his freshly stolen radio down against the floor of his basement room. He stepped back to notice that his 'little' collection was getting a bit out of hand. So in an attempt, he quickly began to sort and rearrange it. Through his mountains of things that he'll probably never use (except for the boxes of Twinkies) he kept digging until he stumbled upon an old Polaroid picture from behind the shelf that wasn't his. He had never seen this before. Curiously the boy examined the photo.

It seemed to be a black and white picture of a couple. He could recognize the woman as his mother, a rather very young looking version of her. But the man on the other hand, he had never seen him ever before in his life. He wondered on who he could've been. His father? The boy wasn't sure. In the picture, his mother and the mystery man both looked super happy, happier than he had ever seen his mom. The both had smiles across their faces and their arms wrapped around each other. The happiest he had ever seen his mom.

Peter flipped the picture around, noticing something written on the back. However it was another language that the boy didn't understand. It was probably the other language that his mother knew. He had many memories of her in frustration, yelling in Romanian when she was angry or the times that she'd mumbled something in another language.

Peter never understood what she was fully saying. He only understood a couple words and phrases from the lullabies that she sang to him as a baby and the small attempts to talk his mother's foreign language. But he didn't show the forgotten picture to his mother, he figured that she'd get mad at him for rummaging through the basement. She'd probably totally forgotten about that picture anyways.

The more he looked at the picture he couldn't help but wonder why they didn't stay together. They looked so happy, what could've happened that was so terrible. Was it him? Was Peter the reason that his father left. Maybe the thought of being a father was too much? Or maybe Peter was kept a secret from him. His mother was stubborn enough to not tell him and his father, where ever he was, probably won't be any help either. She wasn't the perfect mother, she drank too much, but she did the best that she could as a single mother of three children.

Peter just sighed at the thought, shoving the Polaroid picture into the pocket of his pants as he hopped up the stairs, into the living room. Peter's younger sister sat on the floor, dressed in a tiara and a bright pink princess dress. She had the same chocolate brown eyes as he did and and an in between shade of brown hair, not that dark but not that light. It was obvious that the little girl beside him was a couple years younger then him. She was six.

She patted down to the ground beside her, where Peter sat down. It wasn't too long till Peter was complete sucked into a little tea party game. Peter always got stuck with his little sister, from boardgames to dress up tea parties. His mother didn't pay much attention to her, or him in general. Mayra was always chill and always occupied with something other then her kids, she simply didn't want to be bothered. So Peter was now the entertainment for little Lori.

The little girl held a pink wand with a star on the end, she waved it around as if it was actually magical. "When will Wanda come play with me?", the girl innocently asked with a slight smile. Peter sat across her small child sized table with a toy tea set on top.

His head began to race over the thought about his quiet twin sister who was always kept to herself, most of the days that she spent was up in her room alone. Peter shook the question off, "I thought I was your favourite twin.", He said playfully. She gave him a small giggle, "Yeah but She's my only sister."