Freaks

XIV

"Mutant! This boy's a mutant!"
Peter looked at me from behind my grandmother with a speechless expression on his face.
"___, I'm sorry. I didn't know she—"
"I'm calling the cops and getting your ass locked up. Freak!"
My grandmother grabbed the landline off the wall and I instinctually ran in front of Peter.
That's when I realized I was done. I was done hiding.
"Stop!" I screamed at my grandmother.
She looked at me, stunned.
"If you're going to call the cops on Peter you're going to have to call them on me too."
"What are you talking ab—"
"I'm a mutant."
She scoffed, released a small laugh, and dialed 911.
"___, like I'm really going to believe that you're actually a—"
I generated a glowing ball of energy in my hand and she stumbled backwards. Her eyes went wide, and she stared at me as if I had seven rows of teeth and blood dripping down my chin.
"Grandma, I'm not a monster. Mutants are just normal people. Please, just accept me."
I could hear the faint voice of the telephone operator on the other end of the line.
911, what's your emergency? Hello? Hello?
My grandmother just stared, like she had never stared at me before and said,
"You're dead to me, freak."
Tears began to race down my cheek as she picked the phone back up,
"Help! There are two mutant freaks terrorizing me! They're going to kill me!"
I was drowning in my own tears now,
"Why?!"
I felt my hands shake uncontrollably and a giant mass of energy forming.
"___..." Peter said noticing my hands vibrating.
And eighteen years of hiding built up inside of me, until they bursted out in an dark blue colored explosion.
"I'M NOT A FREAK!"
I couldn't see anything, not even my grandmother's face. The house was nothing but a glowing mass of destruction.
I felt Peter quickly grab me by the shoulder and flash away from the detonation fueled by every single ounce of energy contained within my being.
I fell unconscious, certain I was dead.
My sight was filled only by darkness, a soul-chilling emptiness. Then there was a flash of light, and an array of dazzling color, colors that I still to this day cannot describe.
Then I heard him. Peter's voice. He was calling my name.
I could feel something soft under my head, and something velvet underneath my fingertips.
And in that moment I could only focus on the most basic of the human spirit. A heartbeat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I heard him call my name again.
"___"
I could feel the air fill my lungs again and then a hand interlocked with mine.
I had to try to open my eyes. I had to see his face.
I took another breath, the sweet oxygen giving me a boost of strength, and I saw him.
Peter was hovered over me, his mother behind him.
I was on his couch, in his basement.
He gripped my hand tighter,
"Oh my god. I thought you were dead," he said as a tear escaped his eye.
To say I felt weak would be an understatement. I was numb, I couldn't sense anything but my own heartbeat. I couldn't even speak. I needed energy.
I looked over at the potted plant on the bookshelf.
Peter's eyes met mine and he followed my line of vision to see what I was looking at.
"The plant...Mom, the plant!"
She quickly turned and grabbed it, handing it to Peter.
He took my fingers and touched them to the smooth green leaves.
I felt the plant's energy, constant and stable, flow into the tips of my fingers and into my veins.
My mouth slightly parted, releasing only the faintest whisper.
"Peter..."
He put his head against mine, my lips practically touching the tip of his ear,
"The forest, Peter."