ALEXIA


It all happened so fast...  She felt the car slide sideways on the ice, and all she saw were headlights on the side of the car before the impact.  She was sitting in the back, while their car was struck from the front passenger side, throwing it spinning off the road.  She lay quietly, she couldn't move, stuck in the mass of metal and fiberglass.  Frozen in her place, silently listening to the low moans from her own mother, now somewhere above her in the mess.  A few drops of blood fell, dripping onto her forehead.  Probably from her mother...
She looked about, seeing some more wreckage, must be from the other car.  A man lay halfway in the road, thrown from the car...  her father.  She felt the plush toy bear her parents insisted she bring.  She now clutched it softly, fading silently into darkness.

She shot back to conciousness by the sound of screeching metal being torn apart.  It was light now, there was snow falling, covering the wreckage of the two vehicles.  They both looked as if they had been ripped in half, torn metal and glass covering the ground.  She saw a blood soaked sheet being placed inside of a large, black plastic bag...  the body of her father...  Another must be from the driver of the other car.  Her mother was on a stretcher being placed in an ambulance.  She saw the face for an instant, pale, lifeless.

"Hey!  We've got another one!" someone yelled.  They rushed over, looking her over.  "Don't move, ok?  Don't worry about a thing, we have to take you to the hospital."
She didn't have any major injuries.  A large gash on her back, but otherwise was fine.

"Alexia Matthews?"
She looked up from the examination table.
"We've stitched the cut on your back.  You should be ok in a couple weeks, ok?  Just be careful not to get the stitches pulled out.  Your grandparents will be here soon to pick you up." A doctor explained.  She was only twelve, but she knew what had happened.  She looked at the doctor, and didn't say a word.
"Lex??" Her grandmother's voice carried through the hospital's hallways to the room.  Alexia peeked out from the room, and saw her grandparents rushing to the room.  Her grandmother embraced her in a long hug.  She was crying.  Alexia hadn't shed a tear...


The same night, her grandparents took her to their home...  Alexia sat silently in the room they gave her.  It was bare, except for the old noisy bed and a dusty shelf with some big books on it.  She walked down the stairs, to hear her grandfather talking on the telephone.
"...  it doesn't look good.  They said she has a whole bunch of trauma to the head...  Even if they keep her alive, she'll probably be a vegetable.."  he choked on his own words for a moment, holding back his own tears.
"Yes, I know...  Mary seems to be taking it the worst.  No, I'd better not, she's already in bed, I'd like her to get at least some sleep...  Even Lex seems to be more calm than Mary...  Alexia, my granddaughter.  No, they were on their way here when the cars collided, Alexia hasn't seen us in around five or six years, she probably doesn't even really remember us."
She didn't.
Alexia heard someone talking through the loud reciever, but couldn't tell what they were saying.  They talked for a minute, then her grandfather said, "Well...  they said something about a brain hemorrage or something...  they're not too optimistic..."  The light over her grandfather made a popping sound, and went out.  "What the...?  The light went out...  dammit.  Anyway, I think I'm going to go to bed now...  yeah, thanks for everything."  He hung the phone up, and started to walk out of the room, and saw Alexia in the door way.  She darted back up to the room.
"Alexia, what is it...?"  The light bulb shattered, and glass fell over him.  He gasped for a second, noticing the blood trickling from a small cut in his forehead.  Wonder what that was all about, he thought...

She layed on the old bed motionless, clutching her bear softly.  She stared up into the darkness.  She knew her mother wouldn't make it...  But there was still a nagging feeling, something wasn't right.  She felt like there was someone to blame for the car crash, not her parents or the other driver, someone wanted this all to happen...  Who could it be?

It had been two weeks, her mother died the morning after the wreck.  Now they stood in the graveyard, attending the funeral.  Alexia stood, not even hearing the priest talk of her parents, for they were being buried side by side.  Her grandparents were a wreck themselves, hardly keeping composure.  Alexia couldn't find her emotions, she stood like a statue, pale as a ghost.
The preacher stopped with his speech, and Alexia's grandmother approached her daughter's coffin, which was still held above the grave.  "I'll miss you, baby..."  she broke into tears while laying her hand on the lid of the coffin.  Her husband pulled her back, doing his best to comfort her.
The last words were said, and the coffins slowly lowered into the graves.  Her parents were dead...


Same little room, same stupid, uncomfortable bed.  Laying covered, she could only sit there and think of the events of the past.  Pangs of guilt, sorrow, anger, everything coursed through her.  For some reason, the emotions couldn't come to the surface.  Her grandmother seemed to be getting worse, but Alexia hadn't cried once.  There had been no grieving at all.  Her grandfather knew something was wrong, but he didn't question her, he figured she needed to figure things out for herself.  Of course he mentioned being there for her if she needed him, but that was all.  Alexia's grandmother had all but forgotten about her.  She hadn't said a word to her for days, not that Alexia was talking...  Why hadn't Alexia said anything?  She didn't know, there seemed to be nothing to say.  The emotions and feelings were supposed to do the talking for her, but none of that happened.  So she lay here, silently, as always.
A knock at the door startled her.  Her grandmother entered, gently shutting the door behind her.  Her eyes enshrouded by dark circles, her face more down and saddened, giving her the look of a woman thirty years older.
"...  Alexia...  I...  I need to talk to you, darling.  I know how hard this is on you...  It's hard for everyone, belive me, I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in two weeks...  So I know how you must be feeling."
Alexia sat up, the tears fell from her grandmother's eyes once again.  "Look at you...  you're so pale, are you cold?"  Alexia shook her head slowly, "I know I haven't really been here for you, and I'm sorry...  Dear God I'm sorry."
Her grandmother walked over to the single window.  Moonlight was streaming through, giving her grandmother a more ghostly appearance.  She looked out at the moon, "...Almost a full moon.  You know, your mother loved the full moon, she would sit at this very window and stare at the full moon for hours..."  Alexia's grandfather entered the room.
"Yeah, she loved it," he added, "she slept in the same bed you are right now."  He sat down next to Alexia.  "She really loved when I would sit here and read her stories from those big books over there."  he pointed to the shelf.  Alexia sat and looked at him.  "You know what?  Would you like to hear a story?  It was your mother's favorite when she was little."  Alexia just looked at him.  He stood, and looked through the books for a moment, "Ah, here it is." he pulled a large book from the shelf.
Alexia glanced at her grandmother, still staring out the window.  Her grandmother gasped, and crashed through the window, dropping to the cement driveway below.  Alexia's grandfather dropped the book, and ran out of the room.  Alexia got up from the bed, and stood close to the broken glass on the wooden floor of the bedroom.  Walking carefully around the glass, she peered out of the second story window.  Her grandmother lay on her side, neck twisted violently sideways, as an ambulance siren was already heard in the distance...




She didn't commit suicide.  It wasn't suicide.  She saw it.  She saw it...  Someone pushed her grandmother out the window.  Her grandfather didn't see it, he didn't know.  It was almost as if she was picked up and thrown through the window, she didn't even have time to scream.  Alexia peered out the window, while they picked her grandmother up from the pavement, with a large support on her neck, and placed her on a stretcher.  There was nothing they could do, she could feel it.  Her grandfather got inside the ambulance with his wife of 45 years.  He knew she was dead, but the emergency crew gave the impression that she could be saved.  That only made it harder.
Alexia watched the ambulance speed off toward the hospital.  Something deep inside of her hurt.  It was the most pain she'd ever felt for anything or anyone.  What was it?  Sadness?  Fear?  It was something else...  She couldn't tell.
She waited for a long time, sitting, staring out the window.  How could this kind of thing happen to a person in so short a time?  Pretty much her whole family had been killed in the past few weeks.  Everything had happened so quickly around her, she felt like she would never catch up.

Her grandfather didn't talk to her when he returned from the hospital.  His eyes were red from crying, but now exhibited a strange kind of anger.  He went straight to bed.  Alexia went back up to her bare bedroom, and looked back out the window.  Clouds floated past the moon, casting the whole place into darkness, and then moved, bathing it in the moonlight.  Her grandfather was angry at her...  but why?  What did she do to her grandfather to make him so mad?  She didn't know what had been happening, but she felt bad about it, as if it were her own fault.
A small peice of glass slowly lifted off the floor, and hung motionless in the air.  Alexia blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what was going on.  The broken shard hung, frozen in the air.  She saw the moonlight gleaming from it.  A few more shards lifted themselves from the cold floor, and hung beside their companion.
Slowly, Alexia extended her fingers, but upon touching the broken glass, it sprang forward, slashing right under her left eye.  The others followed suit, most embedding in her left shoulder and arm.  She fell to the ground, sobbing.  She pulled the shards of glass from her arm and threw them angrily towards the many others still laying on the ground.  The shards slowly rose into the air once again, one dropping a bit of her own blood to the floor.  Many of the others followed suit, and soon there were hundreds of tiny glass bits hanging in the air quietly.
Alexia sniffled and wiped her nose as she got to her feet quickly.  Blood ran down her face from the cut under her eye, she wiped it away, streaking it sideways.  One of the shards shot forward, and she raised her hand to deflect it.  She felt it glance off and felt the blood dripping almost immediatly.
"STOP IT!!  GO AWAY!!!"  She screamed at the top of her lungs.  The shards of glass, as if hit by an invisible force, shattered into tiny bits, almost dust, and fell to the floor.  What did she just do?  She stopped the glass.
...  It was her the whole time...
There wasn't any ice.  She remembered the screeching tires, but the car spun as if there were a layer of black ice under the car.  She had killed her own parents.  Her grandmother...  She had thrown her own grandmother through the window.  Alexia dropped to her knees, crying.  She had finally started to cry.  The pain inside of her, it boiled up, a flood of emotion tore through her, and she cried.
Guilt, the pain she felt...  it was guilt.  She had somehow felt she had done it the whole time.  She knew a long time ago, but hadn't brought herself to belive it...  Her parents, her grandmother, were dead...  because of her.  She skidded back into a corner of the room, where the moonlight didn't touch, and sat in the darkness...  Crying...



She gathered a few clothes and possessions, and placed them inside of her backpack.  She looked at the bear for a long time.  It lay sideways on the bed, peering at her.  Staring into her soul.  It gave her a slight feeling of peace, of comfort.  She gently placed it inside of her backpack.
She slowly walked down from the room to the front of the house.  Her grandfather sat in the darkness.  His face was shrouded in shadow, she couldn't tell if he was looking at her, but she felt his eyes boring into her.  She stood there for a long time, with only the sound of their breathing filling the room.  She slowly walked past him, he didn't move, save the slight turn of his head while he watched her leave.
He would be better off, she knew he would.  She was scared of what could happen.  She wondered how he could know.  How could her grandfather have known it was her fault?  He probably didn't, he was angry because of the whole situation.  His daughter and son-in-law had died...  then not three weeks later, his own wife...

Alexia cried as she walked.  She didn't know where she was going, or what would happen.  She walked by a small park in the darkness.  She sat her backpack down on a picnic table and looked toward the moon.  There was a sharp chill in the air, and a few snowflakes blew around in the small breeze.  She concentrated for a moment, and felt suddenly warm.  This was amazing, she could do so many astounding things.  She sighed again as the thought of her parents crossed her mind.  If only she'd learned about it sooner, maybe she could have learned to control it.  As it was, she still didn't trust herself.

She wiped away her tears, and took her backpack into her hands.  Maybe there was someone out there who could help her, someone who had the same problem, but has learned to control it.
...  There has to be someone...  Alexia thought, as she walked into the cold night.



Alexia didn't need parents, she didn't need anyone.  She was perfectly capable of life without anyone but herself.  Did she really belive that?  She had been living for a while by herself, moving around, nomadic...  Her strange feelings and emotions seemed to help with controlling the weird power she possessed.  She still had little control over her own mind and emotions, and had gotten many a curious look from a simple bystander when something odd happened around her.  They would go on with their lives, and forget eventually.  She didn't really have a choice in the matter anyway, the weird power would manifest at the oddest times, it almost seemed to want to get her caught.

The library...  she found a library, maybe there was something, something about her...  condition.  If there was it should be here.  She spent hours in the library, a few words kept popping up:

mind (mind)  n. 1.  The human consciousness that originates in the brain and is manifested especially in thought, perception, emotion, will, memory, and imagination.
2.  The collective conscious and unconscious processes in a sentient organism that direct and influence mental and physical behavior.

tel�e�ki�ne�sis (tel-eh-ki-nee-sis)  n. The movement of objects by scientifically inexplicable means, as by the use of the mind or occult power.
The mind?  Was she doing it with her mind?  Did she have telekinesis?  She checked out the books, and left the library, it was starting to get dark.   Alexia knew she would need somewhere to stay.  Where could she?  She walked down an empty stretch of road quietly.  The houses were dark and looming over her.

"No please daddy, I'm sorry!  Please don't!!"  Alexia looked down the road, a small girl was being held by a man, obviously her father.  He was holding her by the arm, as she squirmed, trying to get away.  Alexia saw him raise his hand, and come down on the little girl's head.  The sound of shattering glass, and the girl dropped limply to the ground.  Alexia dropped her books to the ground, and ran to the little girl.  She lay on the road, a small pool of blood forming around a mass of cuts on her head.

"Who are you?  Get out of here, you little bitch!"  the man yelled at Alexia.  Alexia stood, and looked at him.  "Are you listening to me?  Get the hell out of here you stupid little fuck before you get some too."  The little girl on the ground moaned quietly, in pain.  Alexia felt pangs of anger coarse through her, but stood still.  She tilted her head at the man, looking a little confused.

He rolled his sleeve to his elbow, and shook his head as he put his full wieght into a punch aimed at Alexia's head.  His fist slammed hard into something, like an invisible wall or something.  He felt the bones up to his wrist cracking from the force of the blow.  He yelled in pain, but couldn't pull back his hand, it sat in the air, motionless, not four inches from Alexia's face.  His hand opened quickly, and a violent vibration shot up his arm, shattering the bones up to his shoulder.  He could do nothing but scream in pain.  His arm flopped limply, with peices of bone protruding from different spots on his arm.  Headlights approached from the distance.  Alexia pulled the little girl from the road, the man just sat there.

Alexia didn't let him move, she could tell he wanted to.  He wanted to jump from the road, save his own life, while just seconds ago would have been perfectly happy ending hers or even his own child's.  "D...  daddy...?" the little girl moaned again quietly.  She opened her eyes slightly as a diesel truck sped past.  Her father's limp body thrown like a rag doll to the sidewalk not fifteen feet from where they sat.  The truck's tires screeched the large truck to a halt slowly, and the driver jumped out.

"DADDY!!" the young girl screamed, she jumped off the ground and ran to his body.  "Daddy, daddy!  Please!!  Daddy wake up!!!"  Alexia sat there...  only watching.  The truck driver came over to help, but knew the man was dead.  "Come on, hon."  He led her to the closest house, and they knocked on the door.  Alexia stood, gave the man's mutilated body one last look, and walked back to her books.  Why did she do that?  She didn't want to kill anybody!  Why did that happen?  Alexia had seen the pain in the little girl's eyes when she saw her father was dead, but only five minutes before he had broken a bottle over her head.  He had planned on hurting Alexia too...  how could the little girl love someone like that?  She gathered her books back up, and left seeing the sirens of the police approaching from a distance.


Alexia didn't understand, life shouldn't be this complicated.  Why was this happening to her?  Why couldn't she control this, it could be so unbelivable.  The things she could do...


"Sir, another sighting.  A man was killed by a truck driver in a small town to the northeast."

"How do you know it was her?"

"Well, he had a little girl, and at first we belived it to be her, but testing has proved otherwise.  He was held in the middle of the road until the last second.  The truck driver claims the man looked like he was hanging a few inches in the air, and he didn't see him until right before he was hit.  The little girl claimed another young girl fitting the description given us was attempting to help her before her father was killed."

"Well...  get some men up there, and take her into custody.  Do not hurt her, I can't stress that enough, this girl's condition makes her extremely dangerous to herself and you."

"Yes sir."


She sat alone outside the library doors.  She read the books by the streetlight all night, finally dozing off right before sunrise.
"Are you okay, little girl?"  She was startled awake.  It was odd, nobody ever seemed to pay attention to her, why was this man?  He was tall, with clean cut black hair, and a nice buisness suit on.  Looked expensive.  Alexia shook her head no.
"Are you sure?  You look hungry."  It was true, she was.  Her stomach growled at the mention of food.  The man smiled warmly, "Come on, I'll buy you some breakfast.  Where are your parents?"  Alexia stood, the library was still closed, but she slid the books into a slot by the door.
She didn't feel safe, but she knew what would probably happen to the man if something went wrong, she followed beside him as they walked down the sidewalk.
"So...  you never answered me about your parents.  Are they around somewhere?"  Alexia shook her head no.  "You don't talk much, eh?  Well, that's alright, my mother always told me children are seen and not heard."  He chuckled for a moment, "that saying always kind of ticked me off, but that's all right, to each his own."
The man was knocked almost to his knees as a young man ran past.  "Hey!  Watch where you're going!"  The young man kept running, Alexia noticed the black shirt he was wearing, a picture of a crusified figure and the word "Asylum" printed in bold red letters over it.
"Whaa??  That little FUCK took my wallet!!"  The man growled, he sounded less friendly now.  He took off after the youth, "Get back here you little bastard!!" He yelled in a deep, violent voice.  Alexia stopped, and walked around the corner of the block, so the man wouldn't see her when he turned back around, and ran.  She ran around the adjacent corner, and slammed right into the youth.  She tumbled backward, he stopped, out of breath, checked behind him, and helped her up.
"Sorry about that," he huffed, "hey, if that guy comes back around here, don't tell him which way I went, ok?  He's not your dad or anything, right?"  Alexia shook her head no.  The youth walked down to the other corner, and peeked around, "Shit, there he is.  Looks like he's looking for you, you sure that's not your dad?  Do you even know him?"
Alexia shook her head.  He looked again, "Damn, here he comes, come on." they ran down a dark alleyway.  The youth rested on a trash can, he pulled a fancy black leather wallet from his pocket.  "Well, let's see here..."  He flipped through the wallet, "Man, how many ID's does one guy need?  He's got like 20 of them in here!  Different names, states, everything."  Alexia didn't understand, what did he want with her?
"By the way, my name's Tim."  Alexia used to have a friend named Timothy, well sort of.  Her parents scolded her because of her "imaginary friends", but Timothy seemed so real, he would even pick up toys and play with her...  She did that herself, too.
Alexia dropped to her knees, crying.  "Woah, what did I do?"  He didn't do a thing, it was her, it was all her.  Everything she'd ever thought was mystical and beutiful...  was all her.  There was no mystery, there was no invisible friends or anything, she had been doing this all her life.  She shook her head and he helped her up.  "Wow, you're cold as ice."  she didn't feel cold...  "come on, we'll go somewhere and warm up."

Alexia followed Tim to his home.  He opened the garage door, a warm wind brushed past Alexia as she entered.  The garage was set up to resemble a stage, there were musical instuments strewn about, and a microphone stand in the middle of it.
"You like it?" Tim asked, "I have a band.  Please don't say anything about how I'm too young...  I get that way too much.  But we're pretty good I think."  Alexia hadn't even really looked at him, the shirt was the thing she noticed right away, Asylum, must be the name of the band.  Tim was a little tall, he only looked to be about sixteen, maybe a little younger, he had short, blond hair.  He looked a bit thin, but not a total wimp.  "My parents hate all this stuff, they want to get rid of it, but I'm going to be in a famous band someday.  Our band is called 'Asylum'.  We kind of play thrash metal and stuff like that.  So what's your story?  I've never seen you around before, do you live here?"

Alexia shook her head no.

"Why don't you talk?  Can't you say anything?  Sorry if that offends you, I'm just asking."

"I can talk,"  Alexia said quietly, "...  I just usually don't have anything to say..."

"Oh, well that's cool." Tim pulled the wallet out, "so you have no idea who this guy is?"  She shook her head.  "Damn, wierd.  I don't think he was just some pervert, look at all the IDs in his wallet.  He looked like a buisnessman or something, maybe an FBI agent or something.  Why would the FBI looking for you?"
Alexia shrugged her shoulders.  A blatant lie, she knew why people would be looking for her..  "...  what instrument do you play?"  she asked.
"Guitar and vocals."  He answered.  "...  maybe it was a cop looking for your parents or something, did your parents do anything illegal?"

She shook her head, "They're dead."
"Oh, damn, I'm sorry, I didn't...  I mean...  crap." He stammered.
"... don't worry about it...  it happened a long time ago."  she lied again.
"I'm really sorry...  dang, I don't know what that guy could want from you, then..."


"Phillips...  what happened?"

"I apologize, sir...  A boy took my damn wallet.  She took off when my back was turned, sir."

"I saw the damn tape, Phillips...  We need to apprehend this girl.  You don't seem to understand, this is more important than your fucking driver's license, Phillips..."

"I understand, sir.  We belive the girl fled with the same young boy.  He could have taken her to a friend's house or even his own.  Either way, the backround check is almost complete."

"Fine, check his home first, I have a hunch they went there."

"Yes sir."


Two men drove to the residence.  "We are to apprehend the female.  Be careful, she's extremely dangerous, we can't harm her, use this..."  one man haned the other a strange looking pistol.
"What's this?"
"It's a tranquilizer pistol.  Be careful, it only holds one shot.  These are dosed so they should make a regular human adult quite groggy."
"What did they do?  And what's with this 'not harming her' kick?  We don't do this kind of stuff."  The passenger asked.
"Well," the driver laughed, "to tell the truth, we're going for a little girl."
"What??  We're going to tranquilize a defenseless girl?  What makes her so extremly dangerous??"
"I don't know...  we have our orders, though.  Let's just go and be done with it."

The car slowed to a stop outside of the house.  The two men got out of the car, they were wearing black, expensive looking suits.  They were both clean cut and shaven.  The passenger walked to the front door, and knocked a couple of times.
"Someone's here..."  Tim said, "it's probably Jeff, I'll be right back."  They had moved to the kitchen, and Tim had made some breakfast, Alexia sat for a moment, then quietly followed Tim.  She hid down a hallway, and peeked around the corner, Tim was talking to some men in black suits.  They looked kind of like the man she had seen earlier.
"Do you know anybody named Alexia Matthews?"  one of the men asked.
"Alexia...?  No, I don't think so.  Never heard the name.  Why, she kill someone or something?" Tim told them.
"No, of course not, she was a witness to a crime and we need to talk to her.  Are you sure you don't know her?"
"I'm sure..."  Tim said.  He heard something, almost like someone was talking on a phone in another room, and he noticed the tiny radio in one of the men's ears.  "Just who are you guys?"  Tim asked.
"Can I come in for a moment?"  The man pushed past Tim, and walked into the house.  He stopped suddenly.  The other man walked up beside him, "You alright?"  The first man was shaking in his steps.  The second man spotted Alexia, "Hey!" He pulled the tranquilizer pistol, and aimed it toward Alexia.  "Come out here, girl."
The other man stopped shaking, and pulled his pistol as well.   "...  Jake...  leave right now...  I know what she's going...  to do..."
"What are you talking about??"  Jake asked.  He turned his head to see the barrel of the pistol in front of his eye.  The pistol made the sound of pressurized air being released, and Jake fell to the ground.  Blood poured through the wound...  the dart had gone into his eye and now sat deep inside his skull.  The other man felt his body release, and he dropped to the ground.  He pulled another dart from his jacket, and rolled backward, loading the pistol.  He jumped to his feet, and shot the gun at Alexia.
The man's body dropped to the floor, about two feet from his head.  A metal ornamental tray sat, quivering, embedded in the wall beside where he was standing.  Alexia had decapitated him.  She stood for a moment, catching her breath.  Tim dropped to his knees in shock.  "Wh...  wha...  huh?"
Alexia felt weird...  Small red spots started appearing around the room, everything got bright, and as she fell to the floor she noticed the tranquilizer dart sticking out from her right shoulder...



"Who are you?  Why are you here?"
"I...  I don't know...  where am I?  I can't see anything..." Alexia said.
"That's just how it is here...  You should leave..."
"What is this place?  Who are you?"
"I'm sorry...  I can't tell you that.  I'm sure you'll find out for yourself.  I'll bet you know already."
"What do you mean?"

Everything went white, and as it dimmed down, Alexia found herself in a large empty place.  There was nothing, just darkness as as far as she could see.  She saw herself in front of her, like a mirror.

"...are you me?" Alexia asked.
"Sort of.  I guess I'm a part of you."
"Am I dead?"
"... I don't think so.  I think you're just knocked out."
"I think I should be dead..."
"...maybe.  I mean you can't really be around anyone without hurting them.  Look at your parents..."
Alexia burst into tears, "Why did you say that?  I feel so bad already, I can't go a whole day without thinking about that night.  I did it, I know that, but I don't know why!  It hurts so bad, every time it goes through my mind I feel sick, I just want to understand..."
"You're dangerous, Alexia.  You know that.  You need to worry about everyone you come into contact with.  I mean, if they find out about what you can do...  What about Tim?  He knows now, what if you hurt him too?  He seems nice, what if you kill him too?"
"Stop it!!"  The other Alexia shattered.  "I won't!  I'm going to learn how to control this!  I can do it, I know I can."
"But..." her voice, sounding like it was coming from everywhere at once, "...  will you ever be able to do anything?  Your life is different, you will be an outcast unless you hide your powers, and even if you do that, someone will eventually find out.  You can't get close to anyone, Alexia, you know that.  You can't be part of the world, so end it now, and be free from a life of suffering and heartbreak..."
She couldn't move, she didn't want to.  She knew she had heard the truth.  It was true, her life would never be normal, there was no way, but could she kill herself?  There was nobody left in the world that cared about her, there was nobody left who would cry for her death, nobody who would miss her company...  Nobody would even attend her funeral...
"You know what you should do.  It's obvious.  Alexia, just give yourself some peace, it's time...  you deserve it."
She did want peace.  She hadn't felt happiness in some time.  This could do it.  If anyone could stop her, it was herself.  She should do it, end the chaos that was being created by her.  It was about time for her to be able to laugh again.  Her emotions have returned, but not happiness.  Not happiness...
... she could finally feel happy again...


She had been asleep for almost an hour, Tim was starting to get worried.  What the hell had he gotten himself into?  She had just killed two people, but he didn't know how she had done it!  It was as if she moved stuff with her head or black magic or something.  What was going on?  He left the two men, there wasn't much he could do now, he was in this.  Either way, he was screwed, there were two dead men in his house, of course this would circle back around to him.  He laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all.
Tim studied the dart he had pulled from Alexia's shoulder, nothing important on it except a serial number or something.
She coughed.  He knelt beside her, as her eyes fluttered open.  She slowly sat up, "T...Tim...  what happened?"
"The knocked you out with a dart.  Looks like a tranquilizer dart or something." He said.  She sat there for a moment.  They weren't trying to kill her, which meant they really did need her for something...  but what could they want her to do? 
"Listen, Alexia, we need to get out of here, these guys have some pretty messed up stuff.  I'm sure the others know what happened already, come on."  He took her hand and started to leave, but she doesn't move.  "What is it?  We need to leave!"
"I...  I don't think I should run..." she said quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"I shouldn't be here...  I'm too dangerous.  You should go, I can't be around you anymore.  I'll only end up hurting you...  Or maybe worse." She said, starting to sob.  "Please...  I have to do something about myself.  Lock myself away, or..."
"What are you talking about?  Or what, or kill yourself?  How the hell's that going to help??" Tim said, almost angrily, "You can't just expect that after you kill yourself things will get better, I mean, these guys are after me now too, just because I fucking KNOW you.  You can't just run from this, we have to find the real reason behind this crap."
Tears were streaming down her face now, "Tim...  I-I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me..."
Tim stood for a moment in silence.  He had nothing he could say, he knew she was probably right.  But he wanted to find out what was going on himself.
"You know you can't do that, Alexia.  We have to figure this stuff out, come on, I want to know what the hell I've been dragged into." He chuckled a little, but she had the same expression.  "Well," he said, picking up one of the men's tranquilizer pistols, "whatever we do, we can't do it here, I'm betting there will be more of these guys here in not too long, they've probably figured out that these guys are dead by now."
"Alright..." Alexia answered, the two ran out the door.

"Jeff!!  Open the damn door!" Tim pounded on the large wooden front door of his best friend.  The door opened quickly, "What the hell do you want!?  Woah, who's the little girl?"  Alexia acted shy.
"This is...  my friend.  Let us in, will you?"
"Yeah yeah..."  Jeff was pretty tall, about six foot, he looked a lot older, almost eighteen or nineteen, Alexia guessed.  She could develop a little girl crush for him, under normal circumstances...  And these were not normal circumstances.
"This is Alexia...  Yo, do you mind if we hang here for a while?" Tim asked his friend.
"Go ahead, how you doing Alexia?"  Jeff sat down on a couch watching television, and casually twirled a drum stick.
"...fine..." she answered quietly.
"Jeff's our drummer, if you didn't catch that." Tim laughed.  "Listen, we should be fairly safe here, I'm doubting anyone will come looking for us here."  Alexia didn't really understand the logics behind that, this would be a pretty obvious place, she thought.  She sat down on a chair, and brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.  Why was she letting this continue?  There was something...  an aching that told her there was something she needed to know.  Something about her pursuers.  Something was wierd about the whole thing, an oddness that she couldn't get rid of.  There was a feeling of familiarity with the whole situation for some reason...  But she couldn't figure it out.
Just then, there was a pounding at the door...  Tim jumped up quickly, "Shit, don't answer it!"  Tim ran over to the window.  "...It's Shawn...  just fucking Shawn..."  He breathed a sigh of relief, and opened the door cautiously.
"Tim!  Whaddap my brotha!" Shawn said in a loud obnoxious voice.
"Hey, get in here." Tim grabbed Shawn by the arm, and pulled him inside.
"What...  what was that all about?" Shawn asked.  He was a little shorter than Tim, and looked to be about the same age.  Tim checked out the door quickly, shut it, and turned the lock.  "Hey, why're you locking it?  Mac was right behind me.  Tim didn't say anything, and walked back to the window.  It was starting to get dark already...  curse of the winter...
"So...  who's the girl?" Shawn asked Tim quietly, so she wouldn't hear.
"A friend of mine."
"Why you guys being so freaky, kill someone or something?"  Shawn asked.
"Yup." Tim said very nonchalantly.
Shawn laughed, and turned around to walk towards Jeff, "Whatever man, hope you don't get ass raped in prison man!"  Tim shook his head and laughed a little.  Someone else knocked at the door.
"I got it," Shawn said, jumping over the couch, "probably Mac.  Hope the asshole brought some food, I'm starving."  Shawn opened the door, Tim saw a confused look on his face, then a pistol put to his head.  Shawn's eyes went wide in surprise right before Tim saw his friend shot in the head.
Tim jumped from his spot, and ran to the living room, where Jeff and Alexia were already heading to the back sliding glass door.  Jeff threw it open, and the two took off into the back yard.  Tim was right behind.  A tall fence surrounded the back yard, Jeff's dog barked from one of the corners.  Tim reached them right as Alexia was helped over by Jeff.  Both Tim and Jeff jumped to grab the top of the fence, and pulled over as a man in a black suit walked through the back door.
They ran down a small alleyway that led them to the road.  Jeff heard his dog barking at their unknown assailant, and a sharp yelp, then another...  then a gunshot...  All they could do was run...


"Hey Alexia, where's Timothy?" Alexia's father asked.  "You should ask him to come out and play, my friend is here, and he wants to meet Timothy."
"But daddy...  Timothy doesn't want to play now.  He's mad at me." a seven year old Alexia explained.  "I took a toy from him...  a-and he got mad and threw stuff around.  I don't know if I like Timothy anymore daddy, make him go away."
"Why would you want that, Alexia?  Timothy is a great friend, you don't understand that yet."
"No daddy, Timothy's mean.  I don't want to play with him anymore." Alexia said.  Her father stood, and walked into the other room.
"Timothy, go away, I'm mad at you." a toy truck floated harmlessly in the air.  "No, I don't want to play with you anymore Timothy.  You're mean to me.  You hit me with a doll."  The toy truck dropped to the floor.  Alexia looked up to see a man in a black suit standing just outside of the door to her room.  He was smoking a cigarette.  Timothy shut the door on him.
"Timothy, that was mean.  See?  You ARE mean to people.  I wish you would go away, Timothy, I don't want to be your friend anymore..."

She sat on a curb, listening to Tim and Jeff argue about her a ways away.  It was obvious they didn't want her to hear, but she easily heard them.
"Listen, Jeff...  she has nowhere to go, her parents are dead, these guys are after her...  she has nobody to turn to.  Besides, I want to find out what's going on with those guys."  Tim said.
"Tim, what the hell is wrong with you, she's just a little kid, why are they after her??  She had to do something!"
Tim didn't know what to say...  He didn't know if he should tell his friend about Alexia's "powers", but he had to say something, their friend had just died.  "Jeff...  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to get you into this...  and Shawn..."  He choked on his own words for a second.  Jeff turned his back, and covered his eyes, trying to hide the tears for his friend.
"They...  killed Shawn, Tim.  He blew his fucking head off, TIM.  WHY??  What is this all for?!"
Tim sighed...  there was nothing he could say...  "She...  has something they want."
"Well fucking give it to them."
"It's not that easy, man.  They want her...  they will end up killing her to get what they want."
"They KILLED SHAWN!  How many INNOCENT fucking lives is she worth man!?  They could end up killing you, me, and the whole damn town before they catch her!  This isn't a damn game.  There is no way around it, Tim.  Christ, what could be so fucking important?" Jeff said.  A single tear rolled down his cheek, which he wiped away quickly.
"She...  can do things.  With her mind.  Manipulate, move, whatever...  she can do it."  Tim said quietly.
Jeff spun around, "Give me a damn break, Tim.  You're talking about fucking telekenisis here.  This isn't a fucking comic book dammit."
"Well...  she does.  I've seen it.  You can explain the guys in the black suits to yourself somehow if you need to, but I'm helping her out of this."  Tim said.  He turned, and started walking back to Alexia.
"Tim...  what are YOU fighting for?  What's your gain in all of this??"  Jeff called.  Tim kept walking.

When Tim reached Alexia, her face was buried in her arms.  He touched her shoulder, and she looked up, face red from crying.
"What is it?" Tim asked.
"M...  my father...  he, he had something to do with this...  Tim...  I lied before.  My parents, they died, but it wasn't very long ago.  We were in a car accident...  but it was my fault.  I spun the car into another oncoming car.  I was the only one who wasn't killed.  My mother was in the hospital for awhile, but she died too."  Alexia cried more as the story came out.  She told him everything.  Everything about her parents, about her grandmother, her grandfather, everyone she's hurt.
"Your grandfather just...  let you leave?"  Tim asked, sitting down beside her.
"He...  he hated me.  I'm sure he knows what's going on too.  He knew that it was me even before I did.  I remember those men in the black suits even from when I was younger.  They were always around, but I never paid any attention to them.  My father worked with them I think.  I'm not positive about the whole thing, but they were always there to watch me move things around...  I guess they were studying me."  Alexia explained to Tim.  He seemed utterly shocked.
"You...  you must have known deep in the back of your head they were going to take you, and your father was in on it.  Alexia...  I'm sorry."  He put his arm around her, and she hugged him while she cried.  Tim felt a warmth spreading over his whole body.  A calmness enshrouded him, an easiness, and then it stopped.  He felt a surge of pain and pure guilt and sadness crash through his weak form like a wrecking ball.  He realized this must be what she was feeling all the time.  It was the worst thing he had ever felt, but he held on even tighter, attempting to calm her fears for once.
As Alexia gripped him, she felt as though all of her bad emotions were washed from her.  She felt comfort as he held her, and didn't ever want it to stop...

"Tim...  Don't leave me, please?  I need your help." She felt like he was a big brother there to protect her.  Tim also felt the sibling feeling, as if she was a vulnerable younger sister.
"Don't worry, Alexia.  I'll help you."
"Tim...  where is Jeff?"  Alexia asked, wiping some tears from her face, and looking around.  Tim looked around too, but Jeff was nowhere around.
"I don't know."  Tim knew...  Jeff left.  He felt a small amount of anger, but he had figured it would happen.  Tim wouldn't leave, not now.  He had only known Alexia a short time, but he couldn't leave her now.  They heard another gunshot.  Alexia jumped to her feet, it had been about an hour, but the gunshot sounded like it had come from the direction they ran before.
"Jeff wouldn't be that dumb..."  He hoped Jeff wouldn't have gone back to the house.  They ran down the alleyway, keeping as quiet as possible.  When they got to the tall fence around Jeff's backyard, they stopped, listening.
Tim heard some commotion from inside the house, there was yelling.  Tim grabbed the top of the fence and slowly lifted himself up to look.  One of the men in the black suits was walking backwards toward the closed sliding glass door.  He had his hands out, no guns.  Another gunshot, and the man's left knee almost exploded, then the glass door shattered.  The man yelled in pain and fell backwards through the frame of the door onto the broken glass.  Jeff was standing in front of him, holding a shotgun.  He pumped the shotgun, sending the empty shell out onto the lawn, and stepped out beside the man.
"JEFF!"  Tim dropped back down, and helped Alexia over the fence, and climbing over afterwards.
"Tim?  What are you doing??  I was going to get some real guns to us, now you can get rid of that stupid-ass tranquilizer gun.  He was still snooping around, so I jumped him, and broke his radio."
"Damn Jeff..."  Tim looked down at the man in the black suit.  His leg was almost severed at the knee.  "What the hell did you shoot him with?"
"A fuckin' slug.  And I'm about to finish the job."  Jeff raised the shotgun to his shoulder, and aimed at the man's head.
"Jeff, wait."  Tim looked at the man's face, no expression.  He looked to be in his mid thirties.  "I know this hurts, dude.  How about telling us why you're after us?"  The man smiled a little, and Tim put his foot on the calf of his leg, applying a slight amount of pressure.  The man cringed.
"...D...  does it really matter?" He mumbled quietly, "You're probably going to die anyway...  She's the only one we want."  Tim put more weight on the mutilated leg, "aggh...  you know why we want her..." he was breathing quicker now, in pain.  "It's a matter of national security...  I personally don't know all the details."  Tim was practically standing on the leg now, the man groaned in pain, "I really don't, dammit!  Truthfully I don't even know what she can do...  You want to know what I'm here for?  The told me that I was to take her in, and neutralize anyone else accompanying her...  Hah, you two are dead already..."
"They're just going to kill us??"  Jeff shouted, his hands shook the shotgun, "Th...  this is so fucked up...  not three hours ago I was watching music videos completly content with my life...  now this shit."  He breathed in quickly, and aimed the shotgun again.  "Where did you come from?  Where is this all centralized?"
The man lay on the ground, he had regained control of his breathing, "Give me a break, kid...  This is such a huge function, what are you planning on doing?"  The man held his side, looking to be in pain.  He reached quickly into his pocket and fired a pistol from inside his jacket.  Jeff dropped the shotgun, and fell back against the fence.  He had been shot in the right shoulder.  Blood seeped through his shirt, soaking him, and ran down the fence, slowly creating a small pool below.
"Alright, now you." the man turned the gun toward Tim, but it spun, as if he was flipping it like an old western shooter.  "What the hell??"  he said.  The gun flew from his hand, and turned slowly toward him.
"Alexia, stop!" Tim turned to Alexia, she stood, looking as if she was in a trance.  The only thing he noticed were her eyes, they had changed from the dim green of before, to a bright, unnatural blue color.  The pistol went off, then again, and again.  It kept firing until the clip was emptied, and the trigger clicked two or three more times before the pistol dropped lifelessly to the grass.
Alexia dropped to her knees.  "I...  I couldn't stop it...  I heard you Tim!  But I couldn't stop!"  Her voice quivered in sadness, "I didn't want...  I didn't want to..."  Jeff sat against the fence in awe.  He gripped his right shoulder, blood leaking through his clutched fingers.  Tim looked at his friend, he understood exactly how he felt.
"Th... uh..  there's..."  Jeff stuttered.  He couldn't get it out.  It had been the most amazing thing he had ever seen.
"Come on, Jeff, let's go do something about your arm..."  Tim walked over, and helped his friend up.  A large chunk of flesh had been torn from his back also, meaning the bullet had gone straight through.  Jeff moaned painfully as he stood.  "Come on, Alexia, let's see what we can do about this."  Tim put Jeff's good arm around him, and helped his friend into the house.
Alexia walked slowly to the man's corpse.  Bullet wounds were scattered around his head and upper torso.  She kneeled down, and touched the man's still warm hand...  "I'm sorry...  I really am..."


Jeff inhaled sharply as Tim lifted his arm to better wrap the guauze.  The wrap soaked up the blood right away.  Jeff was bleeding very badly, and Tim knew he should go to the hospital.  "I...  I think we need to get you to a doctor, man.  You're bleeding really bad."
"I can't go to the damn hospital, we'll be killed."  Jeff explained, "Think about it, Tim.  It's obvious they know where we are and what's going on.  All we can do is fight back as much as possible, hopefully we can keep them from fucking killing US...  eh?"
Tim laughed at his friend, ecstatic.  It was true, though.  Tim knew there wasn't much of a chance, these guys were professionals, like the damn CIA or something.  And they wanted him and Jeff dead.  Plus he had no idea what they were planning on doing with Alexia.  Tim glanced in Alexia's direction, she sat on the couch, looking away.  She was deep in thought, as usual.  He could only imagine what she was thinking about.  Poor girl, she had been through so much in her short life.  He really felt sorry for her, thrown into all of this like she was.  He had to help her, it wasn't an obligation, he didn't owe her anything, it was sorrow.  He sincerely felt sorry for her, and he wanted her to feel a little happiness.

Alexia wondered why she was putting them through it.  She was dragging Tim and Jeff through this with her.  She felt so much guilt...  for everything.  She had killed people.  Tim was helping her for some reason...  it was her fault that Jeff had been shot, he was lucky the man didn't kill him.  One of those men had already killed their friend.  Because of her.  It was her fault.  Why did this have to happen so suddenly?  Why couldn't this thing have eased it's way out so she could learn to control it when it was weak?  Maybe because when it started she was so young that she didn't understand that she was doing it.  She had never thought it was her.
Also, what could her father have had to do with everything?  Had he planned on taking her in for the men all along?  It was obvious they had known about her power for a long time, what did they intend on using it for?  That man had said it was a matter of national security, whatever that meant.  Maybe it wasn't bad.  Maybe they wanted her help with something.  No.  They were trying to kill everyone around her, to get rid of all knowledge of her.  She was a secret of the nation.  She was going to be a cover-up, just like aliens and everything else.  Could she just let them delete her like that?  Take her life and white it out?  There is no way, she could never let that happen.

"Alright man, there isn't much I can do, there's enough wrapping so the bleeding will stop sometime soon I hope."  Tim told his friend.  "I put enough wrapping on there to plug the fuckin' Hoover dam, I think the bleeding will stop.  It didn't hit any lungs or anything, but it looks like it fucked up some of your bones, like your collarbone and shoulder blade, but I'm not really sure what I can do about that...  it's going to hurt like hell I'll bet, Jeff."  Tim said, seeming to actually have some knowlege of what he was talking about.
"Tim...  shut up man...  I know all that shit."
Tim laughed a little, "Well, in any case, how about we get the hell out of here, I mean, they'll be looking for their little buddy any time now."
"Yeah, but let's get a little ammunition first..."
"What are you talking about?  Taking guns with us?"  Tim asked.
"We have to.  These guys will kill us at the drop of a hat.  Just for defense, Tim...  Just for self defense."  Jeff told him.
"Fine, but seriously, careful.  I mean we'll end up fucking killing ourselves and saving the black suits the trouble."
"Totally, Tim.  I totally understand."  Jeff said.  "Tim, take the shotgun, there are some more slugs in my dad's gun cabinet.  I've got a .45...  think she'll want anything?"  Jeff pointed toward Alexia.
"I don't think so, I think she's the safest out of all of us..."  Tim said.  Jeff nodded in agreement.  "Well, I guess we can take off then...  Hey Alexia,"  She looked up, "come on, let's go."  She stood, and walked with them out of the broken sliding glass door.  The three of them gasped, looking around the yard.
"...Wh...  where...  wha..?"  Jeff said, looking at the empty yard.  The man in the black suit was gone, leaving only a patch of bloodstained grass in his wake...



Two males.  They were to die.  The female was supposed to be dropped, but not killed.  She was supposed to be apprehended alive.  He really didn't care much about that, it could be accidental...  Mitchel Blanchard sat in a tree about 30 yards from Jeff's backyard.  He was garbed in an entirely black outfit, holding the rifle   One of the males walked out the broken glass door, then the second.  They were looking around.  Obviously wondering where Thomas' body went.  He chuckled inside, this was going way to perfectly.  The whole plan...  Those others weren't supposed to die, and Thomas sure did good.  It's too bad he didn't realize he was going to die too...  oh well, he was going to be killed anyway.  His job performance had decreased almost exponentially since he had joined up.  The female saved him the trouble.
The two males looked extremly young to be with her.  She was supposed to be "extremly dangerous".  She HAD killed a few men.  Then he saw her.  Short, pale as a ghost.  She had shoulder length dirty blond hair.  Other than that, she looked like a normal little girl.  This couldn't be the one, he thought, she's just a little girl.
"That's her...  Do it." a voice crackled in his radio.  He shook his head quickly, he hated those damn radios, they set them directly in front of the eardrum so as to minimize the noise.  It worked, the radios could only be heard from about two inches outward of the ear.  Mitchel adjusted the volume, and checked through the scope of his rifle again.  He turned on his laser sight with a slight click.  He didn't need the laser, but it was procedure.  He hated procedures like that.  It seemed absolutly ridiculous.

Alexia walked toward the fence in the back, looking around.  He had to have been dead, there was no way he could get up from that.  He was almost torn apart from that gun, his face had been ripped open.  Someone must have taken him out of the yard.  She saw something from the corner of her eye, she looked down, it had been a red light or something on the ground or on her, but it was gone now.
"What are you looking at?"  Jeff asked, after moving toward her.
"I thought I saw--"  As she said it, Jeff's head kicked forward from the force of the bullet.  In slow motion, Alexia saw Jeff's face explode from the exit of the bullet, and felt the pain as it entered her in the chest.  She heard Tim's muffled voice as her legs gave way, and she dropped to the ground, with the backround growing white...


"Daddy, who is that?"
"Don't worry, baby.  He wants to watch you and Timothy play."
"Oh, ok.  Tiiiiiiiiiiimothy...  Daddy's friend wants to watch you agaaaaaaaaain!"  Her voice trailed off, as memories flooded her mind.  Images of flying toys, her father, and men in black suits flashed and tore through her thoughts, until she found herself sitting on a bench in the park.
It was the middle of the day, and bright sunshine made everything shiny and happy.  Alexia smiled as she looked at younger children playing on a merry-go-round.  She looked down at a small patch of grass, it appeard as though the wind blew through the grass, and in an almost perfect circle, flattened it.
"Hello, Timothy."  The head of a dandelion popped off and danced in the air.  Alexia laughed, watching the scene with a pureness of heart that she had only enjoyed as a small girl.  She wondered where she was, she didn't remember this.  Her father faded into the backround, walking towards her.
"Uh oh...  Timothy, you should go, here comes daddy."  The dandelion dropped to the ground lifelessly.
"Alexia...  I told you not to do that in public.  It's supposed to be our little secret."
"Do what daddy?"
"You know what I'm talking about Alexia...  Timothy?"
"But daddy, I didn't...  I mean...  Timothy just showed up.  I didn't want him to, I told him to leave, daddy!"
A sudden fear swept through her, as her actions were not her own anymore.  Her father took her by the arm, and dragged her to the car.  They were at home then.
Her father opened the door forcefully, and pushed her angrily inside.  "Alexia, I told you, you didn't listen!  Why won't you listen?"
She had an aching fear, a memorable fear, but she didn't know where it came from.  What was going to happen that she was so afraid of?  Her father picked her up, and slapped her back to the ground.  She sat back up quickly, a trickle of blood emminating from her nose.  Alexia was terrified.  He had hit her!  Her father grabbed her by the arm again, she pleaded for him to stop.  How could she not remember this?  Her father punched her, hard.  She tumbled backwards, and lay curled up on the floor, her cheekbone broken by the hand of her father.
"Daa...  daddy..."  She pleaded still, blood staining the floor from her nose and a little coming from her mouth.  She held her face as she lay.  Her father walked over, and sat down on a chair, placing his head in his hands.  He looked like he was crying.
The door flew open, as three men in black suits rushed in.  Her father jumped to his feet, and one planted a punch right into his nose.  The other two came over, and picked Alexia up.  One pulled a syringe, and stuck it into her arm, releasing the liquid into her body.  She didn't resist, she hurt too bad, instead, she succumbed to the effects of the liquid, and closed her eyes.

"He used to hit me?"
"It only happened a couple of times...  those men usually beat him up pretty bad when he did."  The omnipresent voice stated.
"But...  why didn't I remember?"
"Don't know...  maybe it's because of all the stuff those men did to you."
"What did they do?"  Alexia asked, not knowing if she wanted to know the answer.
"It's not what they did.  They kept you from harm many times, Alexia."  She recognized the voice this time, but didn't know who it belonged to.
"I want to remember...  I want to know what happened to me.  How many things have gone on that I don't remember?"
"Too many.  Alexia, you're not normal, you never were.  I'm truly sorry, Alexia...  if there were anything I could have done, it would have been done."
"...who...  who are you?"  Alexia asked.
"Alexia...  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry all of this happened to you.  I'm sorry I couldn't stop them...  I'm sorry I couldn't be your mother, like I wanted to for so many years."
"Wh...  what?  I...  thought you died."  Her voice choked, as tears formed in her eyes, "I thought I...  killed you?"
"Alexia...  you didn't kill me..."
"Wh...  what?"
"I am not dead, Alexia.  The woman...  that you've lived with...  it wasn't me.  She wasn't your mother, Alexia."
"But...  but why, why weren't you there?  What happened?"  Alexia's emotion was ripping through her, it was almost a physical pain, she felt as if her skin was being torn from her flesh.
"Alexia, stop doing this to yourself.  This isn't your fault, none of it was.  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry, Alexia.  I refused to participate in their experiment, and after they tricked me into giving birth to you...  I left."
Alexia sat silently, in the void of her own lonliness.  She had talked to her real mother, whom wasn't dead.  Very much alive, and talking to her through her mind.  This was crazy.  Her life wasn't hers.  They had everything planned from the beginning.
"Wait!  What's going on right now??  Am I dead?"
She felt the emptiness in her own mind.  She was alone again.  Alone...
"Please!  Talk to me!!  I don't want to be alone anymore!"  She felt the lonliness wash over her, like a river of darkness, enveloping her tiny form.  She was washed through more memories, her life.  Not the life she remembered, she was flooded with memories of her real life.  The nights in the facility, the tests they did.  She wasn't a normal kid at all...  They've been testing her all her life...

Alexia shot back to conciousness, sat striaght up, and screamed.  Three people who were dressed like doctors pulled her back down to the bed she was laying on.
"She's hysterical."
"How'd she wake up??"
"Quick, give her another shot."
"We can't, it could kill her."
"Shit...  you're right.  Alright, just calm her down."

A young woman stood over Alexia, who was breathing erratically, eyes wide open.  "Ok dear, we're going to need you to cooperate here, we're trying to fix up this wound, ok?  Just lay back and relax."  Alexia suddenly remembered what happened.
"W...  where's Tim?  And Jeff?  What happened?" she said, short of breath.  Her chest hurt like nothing she'd felt before, it hurt to breath.  She looked at her chest, there was a large hole that had been sewed up right in front of her right lung.
The woman sighed, "You were shot, dear.  We're trying to help."

"So she's going to be fine?  After getting shot in the chest??"
"Jason, she's not a normal kid.  Right as the bullet peirced her skin, it reflected back, as if Mitchel had been shooting at rubber dummies."
Jason Wight puffed his cigarette.  He casually watched through the two way mirror.  They were attempting to finish closing the wound, but Alexia had awoken, and was hysterical.
"Where's Blanchard?"  He asked.
"He's in medical also, just down the hall.  The bullet came back and hit him in the leg.  It's truly amazing, Jason, the power this little girl holds."  The female voice told him.
"Thank you, Heather."  Jason said.  He walked off in the direction of Mitchel's room.  Heather turned back toward the operation.

"Mitchel Blanchard..."
Mitchel looked around the dark room, attempting to find the voice in the dark room.  A figure appeared in the hallway, tall, dark haired...  the figure of Jason Wight.
"Wight...  what do you want?"  He mumbled quietly.
"I want to know how the operation went...  that's all."
"It went perfectly."
"Well, obviously...  since the girl is here in custody alive, albiet you took quite a chance by shooting her in the chest."
"It was unexpected, but I got my payback."  Mitchel stated, looking down at his healing right leg.
"Yes...  it seems so.  So the operation went through without a flaw, how about the two men with her?"
"The two boys?  They were very young, Jason."
"Indeed they were, we didn't have confirmation of who they truly were yet, but in any case, are they dead?"  Jason asked.
Mitchel despised Jason Wight.  He was the proverbial thorn in Mitchel's side.  No matter what, Jason Wight never saw Mitchel as a skilled gunfighter, and an almost perfect marksman...  Instead he saw Mitchel Blanchard as a plain out dirtbag.  Nothing Mitchel could do was good enough...
"Yes...  they're dead..."  He said finally.
"Good..."  Wight hissed, "maybe you're finally starting to do things right for a change."
"Of course, Mr. Wight."  Mitchel stated, sarcastically.  Wight cracked a thin smile, and backed out of the darkened room.  Mitchel cursed a bit under his breath, and put his head down to sleep.


It hurt.  It hurt so bad, but there was nothing she could do about it.  The woman told her she could die if this didn't get done, so she let them.  Assuming this was a hospital, she let them work on her.
"Do you want us to start testing now?"  Heather asked Wight as he walked back into the room.
"No..."  He answered, lighting another cigarette, "let her get her rest, we don't want to totally kill her.  Not until we get what we want, anyway."  He chuckled a slight bit, and watched them work on Alexia, alongside Heather.
"Mr. Wight?"  Heather said, with a slight bit of pouting in her voice.
"Yes, Heather?"
"I think you're amazing, sir.  This whole experiment and everything, it's all amazing."  Wight looked her up and down, taking in the full features of her beutiful body.
"I think so too, Heather." he said quietly, as he placed his arm around her.  "If only she hadn't gotten away before, the whole thing would have gone without a hitch, too...  that's alright, though, all's well that ends well, right?"  He laughed.
"I guess so, Mr. Wight."  Heather said quietly, as she moved in closer to him, "I guess so..."



The next day, Alexia lay on the bed they put her.  She acted asleep.  She remembered this place, the facility, the place they had done all the tests before.  Now she was inside a large room with three cement walls and a glass wall that they watched her through.  She didn't feel like herself anymore, even though she had only been in this place a short time, she wasn't herself already.  They were keeping her like an animal.  Especially the one that seemed like the boss.  He was there all the time, smoking and watching her.  She had tried to use her powers to break the glass a few times, but it didn't work for some reason, it must be because of how unbelivably tired she was.  All the time, she felt like she could sleep for a year.

Jason Wight puffed a cigarette.  "How's she doing this morning?"
"Just fine, Mr. Wight.  The injections we've been giving her are making her very drowsy, but keeping the telekenisis at a minimum." A nurse told him.
"Good, we don't need her running off, do we?"
The nurse smiled, "Of course not, sir."
Heather entered the room, Jason looked her over, she was wearing a tight buissness suit with a short skirt.  "Hello Heather, come to see the show?"
"I belive that's exactly what I'm doing..."  She said, flashing a smile toward him.  "Jason...  Why don't you tell me what this is all about.  I want to know about all of this, where did she come from and everything?"
Wight looked at her cynically, "Sorry, I can't talk about what she's here for...  but I can tell you where she came from."
"Didn't it have something to do with the Human Genome Project those scientists were working on?"  Heather asked.
"Exactly...  Those scientists found the genes that completly make up the human, what genes define hair color, eye color, height, whether your hair is curly or straight, everything."
"...Including psychic abilities...?  Could they use gene therepy to create psychic abilities in people??"
"Yes.  But it's not that easy.  The genes have to be present first.  So we had to find a person with the telekenetic abilities we were looking for.  And we found her, but she was less than cooperative, so we decided that we would have to trick her...  We had an operative of ours get in close with her, eventually marrying her, and got her pregnant.  Right when we found out she was pregnant, we did the experiment without her consent."
"How did you do the experiment without consent?"  Heather asked.
"Well, we made her think we had kidnapped her husband, and were going to kill him had she not done the experiment.  So of course, she agreed to the experiment, and eventually Alexia was born."
"Wait, but if you had a woman with telekenetic ability, why didn't you just use her for your purposes?  Why force her to have a child only to take it away from her?"
"Alexia's mother was a very weak telekenetic.  She could flip light switches and push doors shut, and that was pretty much the extent of it.  All we needed from her was the gene potential.  As long as we had the potential, we would be able to geneitcally manipulate the fetus, and enhance the telekenetic ability."  Wight explained, "We wanted more, Heather."
"I see...  So we're working for some military organization or something, is that it?"
"Heather, you ask a lot of questions..."
Heather walked to him, and took his hand in hers, and rubbed his arm with her other, "I was just curious, Jason...  So when is this little show going to commence?"  She said.
Wight checked his watch, "In a little less than an hour."

Blanchard sat on the edge of his bed.  He slowly tested his injured leg.  Upon putting pressure on it, he breathed out a sigh of pain, and eased back a little.  It was his right leg, right above the knee.  He wondered where the bullet came from, it was one of his own, and hit him not a second after he had shot the girl.  He didn't even mean to hit her in the chest, but the older boy stepped in front of her, so he decided to take action.  Bullets curve when the pass through people's bodies.  It's close to impossible for a bullet to stay it's course as it travels through a human body, there are bones, muscles, fat, everything that gets in a bullet's way.  He had shot the male cleanly through the back of the head, the bullet curved, and went into the little girl's chest.  Blanchard saw the bullet hit her, and it almost seemed to pass through the male again right before Blanchard himself was hit.  Looked like it was the same bullet, too...  The whole scenario took maybe a half second.
When he saw the little girl drop, he had figured she was dead.  He couldn't get it out of his mind.  She wasn't dead after a bullet hit her in the chest.  There was no exit wound, but the only bullet they found was in his own leg.  It's as if she had pulled the bullet from her own chest and shot it back at him.  But that was impossible, the bullet came back right after hitting her.  Like she was magnetically charged to reflect it.  Where were they keeping her again?  It was close, he remembered.  He stood, taking a crutch with him, and limped into the hallway.


"...she killed her own parents...?  Oh my god..."  Heather said, quietly.
"We're pretty sure it wasn't on purpose, she can't really control her powers yet.  Although she has done quite a number on some of my men when we were trying to apprehend her.  It's like she can't control what she does, but can still watch and see what pressure her existance is putting on mankind."  Wight explained, "Truthfully, I'm surprised she hasn't killed herself yet.  All that emotion would be enough to put any normal person over the edge, I'm sure."
The two adults looked into the examination room, where Alexia was sitting at a table with another man.  There were various objects placed on the table, a spoon, some marbles, thread, and other assorted things.  Alexia looked a little less than cooperative, on the brink of falling asleep.  The effects of the drug they kept pumping her with.
"We're testing those various objects trying to see what is easier for her to move, what kinds of material that is more flexible with the kinetica."  The man inside the room said, talking to a recorder, "Now, she hasn't done anything yet, but I'm awaiting the drug to wear down a little bit first."

"Kinetica?  Is that what he said??"  Heather asked Wight, "isn't that telekenisis implemented into military operations?  Jason, what are you doing here?"
"Just watch, Heather.  Trust me."

Alexia could hardly tell where she was.  They had put her into another room, and some other man was with her at a table.  He wasn't wearing the outfit the doctors had on, he was wearing a normal suit.  Her mind went softly black for a moment, and came back quickly, leaving her completly disoriented.  It had been happening ever since she had been given the shots.
"Alexia Matthews?"  The man at the table said.  She looked at him again, her face long, dark rings circling her eyes, standing out against the naturally pale face.  She felt so weak, she could hardly keep her mouth closed.
"All right, Alexia, I need you to do something for me, ok?"  He placed a marble in front of her, "Roll this marble to me, without using your hands.  Keep your hands still, ok?"
She understood what he wanted, but couldn't concentrate on anything.  "It's alright, Alexia, take your time, I understand that you're tired, take as long as you like."  She would.  She didn't want to move a stupid marble.  She suddenly started to feel better, a little more alert.  The marble started spinning on the table, staying in the same spot.
"The marble has begun rotating quickly.  It is still in the same spot I placed it."  The man said to the recorder, "Now, Alexia, can you roll the marble to me?  Do it slowly, please."  The marble stopped in it's place, and rolled very slowly toward the man.  "This is amazing..."  He told the recorder.

Heather stared into the room, her mouth gaping in shock.  It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.  She watched the marble playing around the table, rolling in little patterns, rolling to the edge only to turn back a moment before toppling over.  Wight looked at her, and displayed a smile, "Astounding, isn't it?"
"More than that...  I...  I can't belive that."
The man inside the room was smiling also, then he got a confused look on his face, "Something is happening to her, her eyes are changing color..."  He was then picked up out of the chair and thrown backwards into the wall.  He dropped to the ground a crumpled heap.  The table flew off of it's place on the floor and into the mirror they watched her through.  Heather jumped back, Wight stayed in his spot.  The table slammed into the mirror with such force that it splintered into pieces.  The mirror displayed a circular series of cracks.
"Hmm...  She's got quite a punch behind her.  This mirror doesn't even crack when it's shot at..."
Heather cautiously walked back up to Wight, completly stunned.  The man inside breathed shallow, ragged breaths.  Alexia stood up, and looked at the mirror.
"Facinating...  Heather look at her eyes."
Alexia's eyes were radiating a brilliant blue.  They looked artificial.  "They're beutiful...  Jason...  what do you have planned for her?  What would you possibly use this power for?"
Wight was silent, watching Alexia.
"Why don't you tell her, Wight?"
Wight looked over his back, Mitchel Blanchard stood in the doorway, leaning on a crutch, "Or...  I could."  Blanchard said to him.
Wight laughed out loud, "You would be leaking national secrets, Blanchard...  Your career would be over..."
Blanchard looked down at his leg, "I think it is already, Wight.  Come on...  Tell her about her great american government."
Wight sighed...  "I hope you understand I'm in quite a position right now.  I'm supposed to apply deadly force when something like this happens, Mitchel."
"Apply your fucking heart out, Wight.  I'm a trained professional killer."
"That's true, one of the best marksmen in the country if I remember correctly.  But there is still one little issue..."  Wight walked toward Blanchard, and nonchalantly kicked the crutch from his hand.  Blanchard winced in pain, and held his leg off the ground.  "Well, pro...  I think you'll be a dead marksman this time tomorrow."  Wight spun around and kicked Blanchard right on the bullet wound.  Pain shot up his leg, and he dropped to the ground, defeated.  He clutched his leg, as blood started seeping through the bandages.
Wight walked to the wall, and pressed a button on an intercom, "This is Jason Wight, we have a security risk in here, I need him apprehended immeadiatly."  About thirty seconds later, two men, clad in security gear walked in.  Wight tilted his head in Blanchard's direction, "There he is...  he will be executed tomorrow."
"E...  executed, sir?"  One of the men asked.
"Did I stutter?  Just lock him up!"
"NO!"  Heather said, "You can't just KILL him.  He hardly said anything, Jason."
"Heather...  Back off...  This doesn't involve you, and I don't want it to."  Wight said.  They all heard the window behind crack.  Wight looked over his shoulder, and saw Alexia, she stood in the center of the room, looking toward them, with the same blue eyes as before.  More cracks appeared on the window.  Slowly the cracks spread toward the edge, Wight turned, looking directly at her.  She shouldn't be able to see them, her side was mirrored.  Alexia was breathing very deeply, looking angered.  She was ready to strike back, he felt it.
The glass exploded into the room, throwing shards around everywhere.  There was chaos as the glass flew around the room in a tornado.  It seemed centered on Wight.  He looked from the eye of the tornado in a stunned awe.  The rest of the people were roughly ten feet from him, none had been hurt by any flying glass.
"Kill her..."  He said, almost melancholy.  One of the guards pulled his pistol toward Alexia, and pulled the trigger.  The bullet ricocheted harmlessly off the ceiling of the room.  The glass around Wight dropped lifelessly to the floor.  He backed off a little, but watched .  The other shot a bullet, which halted in midair, two inches from Alexia's face, and spun in midair.  It flew back into the guard's skull.  His body went limp, but stayed standing, held by Alexia's force.  His face contorted in death, as a trickle of blood emenated from the wound in his forehead.  The side of his head exploded as the bullet exited and went through the other guard's head, embedding itself there.  Both guards dropped to the ground.
Heather was knelt down beside Blanchard, both watching the spectacle.  Wight kept his eyes on Alexia, who's eyes were right back on him.  A large shard of glass jumped forward, catching Wight under the eye.  It scraped across, and shattered on the wall behind.  Blood flowed down his face from the deep cut, and he bolted for the door, hitting a large red button on the intercom.  Wight took Heather's arm, as they ran out of the room.  Blanchard sat with his back against the wall, and looked toward Alexia.  She was sitting on her knees, looking at the floor.
"Hey...  Alexia, right?"  She looked up, with tears streaming down her face.  "Wanna help me out a little bit here?"  Alexia wiped her nose, and stood up, walking to him.  As she got closer, his leg felt better and better.  It was amazing, by the time she reached him, he could even stand up.  "...how the hell...?"  He murmered, almost to himself, but he knew how.  Even though it was Wight's doing, it was absolutly amazing.
"Come on, I know how we can get out of here, if we go up a floor we can follow the fire escape down.  It's pretty high, but we'll be alright."  He bent down, and took the two guard's pistols.  Wight had gone way too far, screwed too many people, and whether it was Blanchard or not, Wight was going down, Blanchard would see to it...


"I don't give a shit if there's military vehicles on their way, get the chopper here, NOW!"  Wight yelled into a portable radio.  He and Heather walked accross the large rooftop toward a helipad at the north end.  The sunlight brightened the surrounding area the deep orange of sunset.
"Jason!  What are you doing??  We can't just leave!  Where are you going to go??"  Heather said beside him.
"You don't understand...  They know what I'm doing, which isn't what they've been wanting me to do!  In either case, I can't be caught."  He pulled a bloody hankerchief from his pocket and applied it to his again bleeding face.  "I want you to come with me.  If this place goes down, I'll have plenty of money, come on."
"Jason, I can't...  this isn't right..."  The wind blew fiercly around the rooftop.  Wight sighed, and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, and pulled a small metallic case, opened it, and took a cigarette, placing it into his mouth.  "Well..."  He put the cigarette case away, and upon drawing his hand out, revealed a .45 pistol, "... then I'm sorry, Heather."  He shot her directly in the chest, throwing her backwards to the ground.  He sighed slowly, turning his attention to the approaching helicopter.
The helicopter hovered about twenty feet above the helipad, coming down slowly.  The pilot turned his head toward Wight, who moved his arms indicating he wanted it to speed up.  Wight stood, waiting, and then saw the pilot's head jerk sideways, his body laying to the side.  The helicopter tilted to the side, the blades sparking off of the building, only feet from the edge.  The helicopter landed on it's side, collapsing in on itself in a mass of metal and glass.
Wight spun around, and saw Blanchard walking toward him, with a pistol aimed in his direction, and another smoking in his other hand.  He was walking, like nothing had happened to his leg at all.  His confusion subsided when he spotted the girl behind Blanchard.  She walked slowly behind him.  Blanchard stopped, and said something to the little girl, then pointed toward the fire escape jutting from the top of the roof.  It was ten stories to the ground below, it would take the girl quite a while to run, so Wight stood his place, gripping the .45 behind his back.
"Mitchel!  Looks like you've gotten some 'treatment' from you're little friend there!"  Alexia was at the fire escape, and started down.  Wight spotted the brown military trucks approaching from the distance.  "Too bad the military is here to take her back...  isn't it?"
"What were you going to do with her??  I know you weren't going to be handing her over to the military, I know you had better ideas.  What were you going to do?"  Mitchel Blanchard shouted.  He stood about twenty feet from Wight, close enough to hit a bee off his shoulder if he needed to, right now his pistol was positioned on Wight's head.
"Well Mitchel...  you seem to know me pretty well...  You should be careful, you don't really want to know the truth about this whole thing, you might get 'attached'..."  Wight hissed.
"What the hell are you talking about...?"
"You don't think I was stupid enough to use any old Joe's genes to mix with the telepath's to make Alexia, did you?  You have been giving up plenty of blood to the tests our facility conducts, you know...  What a miracle cloning is nowadays...  Although we had to do a little bit of splicing and all, but other than that, it seems to have worked pretty perfectly.  I figured you wouldn't enjoy the whole thing, so I had some idiot play her father.  He hit her a couple of times, but we took care of it."
"...what?"
"It's a shame you killed her mother, Mitchel...  A real shame!  You might have made quite a happy family...  white picket fence and all of that."  Wight said.  It was true...  When they pulled the child out with a c-section, the mother refused to allow the experiments, and even escaped...  They had sent Blanchard to apprehend her, even if it meant her death.  She resisted, and Blanchard thought there was no other choice...  He had killed her...  for the sake of Jason Wight, for the sake of the Project.
"Yep, you're a daddy, Mitchel!  Congrats, it's a bouncing baby girl!!"  Blanchard couldn't think, couldn't even imagine...  the deceit this man has put so many people through.  He didn't even notice Wight pull his gun forward.  "Goodbye, Mitchel, I've always hated you..."
A gunshot...  Wight's face was frozen in a state of pain, he glanced down to the bloody stump that used to be his hand, glanced forward at Blanchard, who was on his hands and knees looking toward the ground...  "Wh...  what..?"
"Sorry, Jason..."  Wight spun around, looking down the barrel of Heather's own .45.  He noticed the hole where he had shot her ended after her shirt, and the fabric of a kevlar bulletproof vest.
"Wh...  why....  Heather...?"  He grasped his bloody stump of a wrist.
The woman flashed him a badge, "My name's not Heather, Jason.  It's Rebecca Harris, from the Pentagon.  We heard about your stupid little plans, and decided to scrap the operation.  It's over, Wight."
Wight's face was pale from the pain, "Scrap...  ssscrap" he mumbled, "you mean..."
"Yes, we're terminating the op, Wight, and everyone who knows about it..."
"WAIT!"  Blanchard yelled, stumbling over, he held a pistol toward Wight, and one toward the woman, "What about Alexia?  What are you...  going to do to her?"
"I'm sorry, Blanchard...  The military has come to take her back, the place is going to be bombed soon.  This operation has become too dangerous, they're terminating it...  That includes Alexia."

Alexia stumbled down the steps of the fire escape, and saw the military vehicles.  She wondered if they were going to help, or if they were here to kill them.  She reached the fifth story, and noticed the men getting out of the vehicles, and shooting the workers.  They were going to exterminate everyone...
She heard the first gunshot from the rooftop, and gasped, she hoped the man was alright.  There was something about him, something inside telling her to protect him.  She hoped he would be alright...
She heard something that sounded like a powerful flame, and saw the rocket flying toward her.  It was easy to turn it around, and the rocket exploded in the middle of their trucks.  Alexia stood on the railing of the steel fire escape, and dropped down.

Mitchel Blanchard held his pistols toward the two people.  For the first time in years his hands shook while he held the firearms.  "Blanchard..."  Rebecca said quietly, "you're not going to get out of this, I'm sorry, if I could help it, I would..."
"Shut up..."  Blanchard said to her, "So we're all dead...?"  Rebecca only sighed in response.
"...  They're going to nuke this base..." she said simply, "and everyone unlucky enough to be on it at the time..."
"Give me your gun..."  Blanchard said.  Rebecca had been pointing it at Wight, and switched to Blanchard.  He shot her directly in the chest, in the same spot as Wight.  She stumbled back, and Blanchard was there, he pistol-whipped her in the forehead, and she crumpled to the ground unconcious.  "Guess what, Wight...?  We're all dead anyway, so...  I could KILL you, with absolutly no aftereffects..."  He turned around, and Wight was waiting for him, Wight kicked both guns from his hands with a single roundhouse.  He kicked Blanchard accross the face, then side kicked him square in the chest.  Blanchard fell backwards to the ground, gasping for air.  He spit blood, probably from his lungs, Blanchard figured.  Wight stooped to pick up his gun with his bad hand, and approached the fallen Mitchel Blanchard.

Alexia floated about two feet over the ground, the dirt swirled underneath her.  She dropped to the ground, and backed into the shadow cast by the fire escape.  The explosion had completly diverted their attention, just in case, she lifted a large truck into the air and tossed it like a child's toy.  It landed and exploded from the various arms and ammunitions inside.  This place was like a desert, there was simply dirt around her, and mountains off in the distance, she wondered where she was...  She noticed an opening in the chaos as some soldiers ran to tend to the injured.  Some people came from inside the building firing rifles of their own.  Gunfire, yells, screams...  she ran.  All she could do was run.

The darkness was starting to envelop the area as the sun had gone down.  The soldier barely noticed her run by.  He jumped from his cover just in time, startled her, and hit her in the chest.  She didn't scream, simply stopped running and grasped her chest...  and almost in slow motion, dropped to her knees...

"I...  meant what I said before...  Mitchel..."  Jason Wight growled as he approached Blanchard, "I really do hate you, I always have...  I've given so many missions that were supposed to...  fucking KILL you...  but you always, ALWAYS seemed to come out...  perfectly fine!"  Wight could hardly talk, blood trailed around the area where he had been.  He held out the pistol, aiming at Blanchard.  He couldn't hold the pistol still, it moved around Blanchard, he couldn't point it right.  He fired once, and the bullet clanged harmlessly off of some metal from the fallen helicopter close to them.  Wight was about to pass out from the pain, but he had to do this, he needed to.  Blanchard turned his head toward Wight...  "No Wight...  I've always hated you...  and I've been waiting for my chance to kill you...  It will almost be as satisfying if she does it, though..."  Wight didn't turn fast enough, Rebecca's pistol fired a leathal bullet into his brain.  He dropped quickly to the ground, a pool of blood forming under the large head wound.
"...thank you..."  Blanchard told Rebecca, "for all of this...  thank you."
"...  what do you mean?"
"I killed people for a living...  I was very good at it.  I could kill people at any time, it would be explained by my outfitters, my bosses.  I tried to never kill the innocent...  but I have, many times...  Sometimes accidentally...  I don't think I've been trying to kill people, I think I've been waiting for someone to kill me..."
"I understand, Mitchel...  I'd like to say 'your welcome', but I don't think I deserve it..."  She raised the pistol to his head, and fell to the ground from an intense shaking.  "What was that??  Not yet!!"  She glared into the sky, "it's not the bombs, what is going on?" she crawled to the edge of the building, Blanchard followed her.

Alexia felt the pain of the bullet entering her, she felt her feet give way, and she dropped to her knees.  The soldiers gathered around her, her brilliant blue eyes faded to a very light grey, almost disappearing.  Her face was blank, no expression at all, a surge of force went through her, sending a shockwave out around her, and shook the ground.  The soldiers were thrown back, only to stand up again, targeting her with their weapons again.  She sat in the same position.  They were confused, not knowing what happened or what to do next.  Alexia slowly lifted off the ground, hanging in the air, and another surge of force, this time, the force of an atomic explosion violently shook the area, creating a hemisphere of pure force a mile wide, destroying everything...  it lasted for almost a minute, engulfuing everything around...


"Hello, Alexia..."
"...mom...?"
"Yes...  I'm sorry, Alexia..."
"For what, mom...  you didn't do anything."
"It's my fault, Alexia...  I wasn't there, I couldn't help you..."
"It's not your fault, mother...  I know you couldn't be here...  you died a long time ago."
"You knew...  I'm sorry, I couldn't tell you, I just couldn't find the words...  I'm so sorry Alexia, you've had such a hard life...  It's my fault..."
"It's not your fault, mom...  it's not...  It doesn't matter, anymore.  I can't hurt anyone anymore, mom."
"I know, Alexia..."
"I even controlled it a little...  I helped someone..."
"What?  You controlled it...?  How?  Who?"
"...my real father..."

Three stealth bombers approached what was supposed to be the target area, all that was left was a large crater.
"What happened?" one pilot asked.
"Don't know, maybe they were holding nukes in the building somewhere and one exploded."
"The place is destroyed." another one said into a radio.
"What?" a garbled voice returned.
"It's gone, wiped out, looks like someone got to it before we did."
"Well, return to base then, we'll send some people down and check the place out."  the voice said.
"Aye sir."

He heard the bombers, but there were no explosions.  Obviously, they didn't need to nuke the place anymore...  Mitchel Blanchard moved a large piece of wood that was covering him.  He surveyed the surrounding destruction, wondering how it was possible that he survived.  The girl must have known...  She had to have done it, saved him...  He marched his way out of the large crater of nothingness.
She lived a life of controversy, lies, tests, pain and sadness.  How could he even imagine what it was like to be her, she could never be happy.  She killed people without wanting to, she was a tool, a puppet, a weapon, not to be treated as a human.  She was  nothing to them.  She meant nothing, when it started to go wrong, they didn't even think twice about killing her and everyone who knew about her.  Life didn't matter...  only death, only the destruction they would be able to cause...  the people they could hurt.  Now she and hundreds of others were dead because of a stupid little secret.
For some reason she had spared him, he didn't really know why, but he decided that it was for the best, now he actually had his life back.  Nobody would know he was alive, there was no way to test bodies around this place, they would log him as dead...  if they logged this incident at all.
Well, now everyone he knew was dead, there was nothing, nobody.  He could start any life he wanted...  and for once he was happy himself.  It was all because of this little girl.  One little girl that could cause all of this to happen, one little girl that couldn't find a place in a world that didn't want her...  she had been released, now...  gone...

Wherever she was...  he wished her happiness...
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