Part One

I hurl myself around the corner and into a filthy ally, silently cursing my stupidity.

Friggin' idiot! You shoulda known better than to take that rout! I berate myself. You know all to well that's the territory of those bullies! You're sure living up to your nickname, Moron!

I try not to gasp too loudly as I leap onto and scale the fence blocking my way to freedom. Ignoring the metal thorns of the barbed wire someone put over the top of the fence, I throw myself over the edge.

I grimace as I hit the ground wrong and my ankle twists beneath me.

I force myself back to my feet. My heart pounds in my chest as I hear the shouts of the gang behind me. I'm sure the green glow of my pulsating birthmark can be seen through the fabric of my shirt.

Shit, move it, girly, before they break out the firearms!

I take off again, ignoring the pain shooting up my leg from my maltreated ankle.

I sigh with relief as I no longer hear the taunts and shouts of the gang, knowing that I'm out of their turf.

"One more block," I murmur, painfully limping my way to the old building I call home.

Ever since my mother's death three months ago, things just haven't been the same. Keys appear in my hand with a quick flip of a mental switch.

"Well, THAT was fun," I comment just to fill the all consuming silence that prevails. I close and lock the door after me, slowly and painfully making my way up the stairs.

As soon as I get in the apartment I used to share with my mother, I click on the TV to a news program. I sit down to examine my new injuries.

As I begin bandaging my hands and arms to prevent my bleeding from making even more of a mess, I listen to April O'niel talk.

"With crime rates rising at a disturbingly steady pace, so does the nervousness of the every day citizen of our fair city . . ."

"No shit, Sherlock," I wise crack, tying off a bandage.

". . . no one knows for certain what exactly is the catalyst for all these troubles, but many suspect that the cause lies in the mutant population."

"Why am I not surprised?" I murmur, checking out my ankle. It's swollen, but already going back down to its regular size.

"This is what the people out on the street have to say."

The view then shifts to various people out on the street, most of them badmouthing mutants.

For the most part, I ignore them, but at one point I happen to look up at the screen.

In the background of an old woman who looks like she has something rather uncomfortable stuck up her hind end, I think I catch sight of a short man skin?

"Hold the phone, when did the aliens touch down?" I get closer to the TV and try to get a better look at the man in the background.

He's not there anymore.

I shake my head and lean back in my chair as the camera cuts back to April.

"These views," she comments, "Seem to mostly be based on a pre-existing prejudice and hearsay. There is no proof to what these views claim. This is April O'niel signing out."

"I always did like that chick," I say as a commercial for tampons comes on.

I sigh and turn the tv off, suddenly feeling unbearably tired.

"Guess this means I should get some sleep," I murmur as I make my way to my room and stumble into bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I fall fast asleep.

Moron Index
Part Two