X-men story (on hold)

1.No more

She floated high above the ground, fear written all over her face.
"Alright Sam, we get the point, now put her down." My mom said in a slow whisper trying not to cause me to lose focus and drop my ten-year-old sister from her position at the height of the rooftop.
"I can't, get something that I can drop her on." I replied my voice shaking as tears filled my eyes. This isn't the first time something like this has happened. Being a mutant, my abilities are unpredictable, and triggered by strong emotion. I always feel so guilty of the fact that I can't control when and how they work, causing all sorts of accidents and injuries.
My mom hurried out of the house with bundles of blankets and pillows and lay them on the ground.
"Alright, now, try lower her slowly." She stood close to me, trying to calm me down. My breathing was heavy and quick, my body shaking with a mix of adrenalin and terror. I drew in a deep breath and slowly lowered my hands from their position above my head, holding her in place. When she was a metre off the ground and I knew she'd have a safe fall, I released my mental hold on her and dropped to my knees sobbing.

30 minutes earlier

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"hey mom." I strode into the living room hearing her enter the house after dealing with one of her most difficult clients.

"Hey sweets, where's Carly?" of course that was her first concern.

"Playing teacher instead of doing homework; I tried mom, I really did, but I could see she was going to have one of her freak outs and cause a tornado if I told her to do it one more time." I tried to lighten the mood with my 'tornado/mutant/she isn't but I am' joke, but by the look on her face, I was in deep trouble.

She rubbbed her face muttering how useless I am at taking care of the house's asisted learning student. It's not my fault she lost oxygen at birth, not my fault she was in ICU five days after that, not my fault it caused brain scarring, not my fault we've been to over five doctors and still got no real diagnosis or treatment.

"I did try mom, at least she's still keen on going to school." I defended. with a nod she agreed and headed down the passage towards the 9-year-old's bedroom. I followed behind, turning into my room to carry on with my Kardashian-ised version of the Mona Lisa; with one earphone hanging from my ear, I turned up Adele's 'Someone Like You' on my phone.

Mom must be really stressed, she never talks badly about me when I'm around. Well, makes sense, she's got one undiagnosed academically challenged daughter who has a tendancy to have violent temper tantrums unexpectedly, one ADHD mutant daughter, and a possibly cheating husband. And how can I forget her job, doing admin for various indisicive scatter-brains.

Obviously, being the older, more independent and mutant daughter; I'm not the favorite. Sad, but true. No matter how hard I try, I can't make up for my 'curse' (as my mom would put it). Get all A's, nothing; compete in a National competition for dancing and singing then acheive the highest award, a waste of entry money; jump a meter twenty and bring home three first rosettes after paying thousands for my own sadle and bridle for my classes, complain about the horse trailor fee; cook supper, clean house, load washing machine and dishwasher for a week, and all I get is the demanding tone when my mom asks "Where is my red blazer?".

Now I just take over the job of cooking and cleaning, attempt to play tutor/ babysitter/ orpe and keep my marks and extra murals afloat. That's alot for a girl under sixteen.

"Sam." my mom's bored voice enters my room I pull the earphone from my ear and give her an expectant look, urging her to go on, not like she's looking anyway.

"School called, they want money for some competition they signed you up for." her eyes finally lift off of her phone screen, only to gaze around my room, which is currently suffering from artist's studio syndrome. She could've chosen any other time to criteque my neatness, but no, she chooses when I need to have a bunch of 'junk' all over my desk and floor.

"Yes, I would've paid but my allowance and savings have been depleted after having to buy equipment for my equestrian activities." make sure she knows how serious I am about this. It will help me so much when I need to apply for university.

"I see." she's annoyed now, staring into my head as I mix more water into my yellow wash. She's in a trap, she knows questions will be asked if she doesn't give the entry fee, but she doesn't want to let me participate.

"No" she dares. Annoyed and bored I see, wants me to overreact and provoke the 'curse'.

"It'll help my aplication for a part-time job I start next month." I encourage.

"I don't want to spend money on stupid competitions." she deadpans. I clean and dry my brush before closing the wash I'd just made and standing up to look her in the eye.

"No competition, no temporary job. No temporary job, no money for license, car and university. No lisence, car or degree, can't move out. Can't move out, you're stuck with me for even longer." I crossed my arms waiting for her counter attack.

"After finding out that you're a mutant no one will hire, educate or even accept you." yup, she wants me to freak out. She's hitting the right nerve and she knows it.

"This house is going to collapse five minutes after I leave." I walk past her through the house and into the garden. I knew she wouldn't let me get the last word, but at least less damage could be done if I'm outside. Carly was playing on our jungle gym. Sweet thing, such a pity she struggles in school.

"Oh yeah? Who changed your nappies, fed you, cleaned you, chased away the monsters and hugged you when you were crying?" mom countered following me. Damn, she knows how to annoy me.

"Most often, dad, but that was before you banned him from caring about me once you found out I was a mutant." I slight look of realisation crossed her face, didn't last long though.

"A mutant does not deserve to be cared about." she spat.

"Then, clearly neither do your daughters." I said, not noticing that I was levitating Carly from where she had been sitting on the swing.

"Well you surely don't." she slowly whispered, pushing my last nerve. My fists clenched and I lunged towards her throwing a punch at her face. She caught my fist and ducked as the second came towards her from the other side. She spun me and held my hand on my back, locking my arm in that position.

"How dare you even think of yourself as my mother." I sneered. We heard a scream from above us......