I awoke that first morning to the sound of Blaise crying for mother. Guilt crushed down on me once again. I stole his mother away from him, and now there was no getting her back. I killed her. I killed my own mother, and now Blaise has to grow up without. I couldn’t take it, I broke down again. I curled up and started sobbing and hyperventilating, Blaise’s cries turned into screams of desperation to be heard and returned to his mother’s arms.
I guess I must have woken Erin across the hall, because next thing I knew, she was standing over us, speaking gently, as if to an injured animal. Blaise’s cries ceased, and I stopped hyperventilating, though the tears still ran silently down my face. I felt her peace enter me, like a hug from an old friend. She sat with us for a while, just holding us close as Blaise fell asleep and my sobbing quieted.
When I was quiet, she turned to me and asked why I was hyperventilating and Blaise was screaming for his mother. Why I didn’t leave him with them as he wasn’t a mutant, or at least not visibly so. I told her my parents were dead, and when she asked what happened, the story found itself pouring freely from my lips. I told I killed them, and to my surprise she didn’t get up and leave me. Just days ago, I would’ve if somebody told me they had killed somebody.
But she stayed, and she told me she knew I was sorry, that I wished I could take it back, because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have broken down like this. She told me she could feel the sorrow the second she entered the room. She then changed the subject, but she still stayed and talked to me for two hours until I needed to get ready for breakfast, and she had to go diffuse whatever emotional bomb Ari was sure to be planting without her.
I then got up and went to the wardrobe which was fully stocked with clothes, all in my size. (I’m a little curious as to how they did that when I was awake most of the night) I opened the closet and found baby clothes in Blaise’s size and a size larger, as well as a playpen and a box containing an IKEA crib for me to put together. (Sneaky AND sadistic. How wonderful.) I picked out an outfit for him to wear, dressed him, and went back to the wardrobe to pick something for me.
I picked acid distressed gray skinny jeans, and a plain black fitted tee. It was chilly, but the only form of covering there was a hooded cloak. (Strange fashion sense, these ones.) So I stuck Blaise in his playpen, took a much needed shower and got dressed. By then it was about time for breakfast, and that was when I realized I had no clue where the dining room was.
I walked out into the hall holding Blaise’s hand, as he toddled beside me. Erin and Ari (Who had horrendous bedhead, by the way) also joined us in waiting. Yet again. Eventually a girl turned the corner and gasped, showering apologies on us, telling us she should’ve remembered I had just arrived and wouldn’t know where anything was. I honesty had no clue who this girl was, so I don’t know how she’d know me either. (Maybe this was the mysterious clothes girl?)
She took one look at my confused face, and started cracking up. I had no idea what was so funny about my confused face, so she showed me. By wearing my face. ( Darn mutants.) She told me she was Mimicry, and all at once, I put it together. Mimicry=to mimic=shapeshifting. (How I didn’t get it before, I don’t know. Let’s blame it on the trauma, shall we?) I laughingly asked her if I could have my face back because she was confusing Blaise, she amiably agreed, and showed us to the dining room.
Well, this place is full of surprises. I can tell you what I didn’t expect, which was a ballroom (yes, chandelier and all) converted into a dining area by putting in family style tables. As for what I saw? You can reread the first description. I entered, Blaise in tow, and surveyed this grand room filled with teens, more than I even imagined. I watched trays float from table to table (yes, I literally mean float.) and teenagers chat happily with each other.
Leprowler caught my eye, and waved me over to her table, and the crew of newbies made our way to her. She introduced us to her “little brother” who she wasn’t truly related to. His name was Samuel, but he explained that despite his protests, they all called him Shadow Boy. I could see why, he seemed dark, with dark brown hair, pale skin, and dark shadows under his eyes. It seemed like he had never slept, and who knows? Maybe he hadn’t, this place was so strange.
I got most of the way through breakfast before Leprowler got on the subject of powers and names. First she wanted to know what my “masked avenger” type of name would be, proceeded to list some weird ones, and then realized she didn’t know my power, and despite her best pestering, I wouldn’t tell her. I didn’t want branded as the freak. You hear about powers like shapeshifting, flying, and telekinesis. You never hear of the power to age. That’s freaky.
Leprowler suddenly got serious and let me know that I needed to report to the training room in an hour, because it wasn’t curiosity that wanted to know my power, because curiosity is deadly to her, but it was a case of security, she needed to know for the safety of the group what I could do. With a pit of dread in my stomach, I agreed.
