Truth and Lies (A Logan Howlett Fanfic)

New Begining

"Lierra, my child.

If you're reading this now it means that I have taken my place among the stars. The letter from Long Island explains your where father is. Turns out he really isn't dead; he was just never able to come home. I told you he died because he never came home, I was going to tell you about this when you turned six-teen. The letter in the purple envelope is for your father, to help explain.

There is five hundred in fifties, for the road. Tied with the money is a map, there's a path marked to make it easier for you to find him. The picture that is paper clipped to this letter is a picture of your father and myself. Your father was and is a good man he is with a team of others like him. I wish I could be there to explain in person, but it appears he must have found me. 

This man is a gifted one, humans call us mutants, he hunts his own kind. He especially hunts ones like you and me, shape shifters. He claims were a disease and should be extinct, but that is not the case, he is criminally insane. The humans don't care because he hunts mutants, something they are afraid of. Don't be discouraged you have to find your father, show him these letters, the pictures, and your birth certificate, he'll know what to do.

You must not stay at the house any longer than twenty-four hours. He is smart, and after twenty-four hours he will hunt you and try to kill you. You must get what you must and find Long Island, your father will understand. You look enough like him and me to have physical proof of your heritage. Your father has a gift too, you never inherited all of it though, you will find out what you inherited from him soon enough.

                                                                                                                                                        Sincerely,

                                                                                                                                                            Your mother,

                                                                                                                                                Clairity Rose."

The first letter was written in her hand writing, and I reread it three times, trying to make sense of it all. I read the second one, it was typed, and only had a few lines.

"Clairity Rose,

We know what and who you are. We know about your daughter and what she is too. He is not dead, he works for me and the government.

William Stryker"

I was going to find this William Stryker guy and finish this. I grabbed the letters, pictures, my birth certificate, the money, walked out to my mother's room, and collected extra running clothes, normal clothes; including socks, underwear, bras, shoes; jackets, and gloves. I walked out to the garage, set my stuff on the floor, found saddlebags, strapped them to the back of my motorcycle, and orderly placed all of my things in them. I quickly went back in the house and grabbed my phone, my mom's phone, our chargers, my wallet; which contained the money, my drivers license, and my motorcycle keys. I shut and locked all of the doors and windows, walked my motorcycle out of the garage and onto the road, I lifted my left leg over the seat of the motorcycle, sat down, looked over my shoulder at my used to be home, sighed, placed the key in the ignition, turned it, revved the engine, and rode down the road away from my no longer home.