kalimando P st
Resident Telepath
Posts: 990
(9/19/05 6:54 pm)
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Dear Diary
Author: Kalimando (Quidam)
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Marvel
Rating: R (swearing, general mood/theme)
Genre: Movie-verse, X-Men 2
Notes: Written for the ficathon on livejournal
So the Professor gave me this notebook to write about what I was feeling since I didn’t feel like talking. Why does he want me to talk about it anyway? Isn’t he supposed to be the most powerful telepath in the world? I mean he can just reach in and find out what I’m feeling any old time he wants. I even suggested that he do just that but the Prof. said no. “Talking heals,” he said, or some shit like that, which is crazy because the teachers are always telling me that I talk too much. Now that I have nothing to say, they’re all bugging me to talk. I wish they’d just leave me alone.
So anyhow, here I am with this stupid book and it’s nothing fancy. Just one of those black and white, 100 lined pages, composition books. 100 pages. Do they honestly think I’m going to fill up all the pages in this thing? And anyways, with all the money the Professor has, I’d think he’d be able to afford something a little fancier, like leather, instead of a cheap $1 composition book. Stupid thing makes me feel like Anne Frank. Whatever though. I’m not calling this book ‘Dear Diary’ or anything like that but if Rogue or Kitty tries to read it, I’ll hand them their asses on a platter. SO IF YOU’RE READING THIS, YOU’D BETTER PUT IT DOWN NOW!
Just for kicks I’ll introduce myself in case this thing gets found after a hundred years or so and people want to something about the person know who wrote in it.
My name is Jubilation Lee. I go to school at Xavier’s School for the Gifted in Westchester County, New York. I’m 15 and Chinese American. Think Mulan or some other typical stereotype and that’s me except I really suck at Math and Literature. Oh. And I’m a MUTANT.
Hey, if you’re still reading this and you haven’t burned this book and scoured your hands with bleach in an effort to get rid of any mutant cooties, congratulate yourself. You’re not an asshole.
8 days ago my school, you know- school as in A PLACE WHERE KIDS LEARN STUFF LIKE MATH, SCIENCE, AND LITERATURE?- got attacked by the United States military. What the fuck were they thinking? That we’re really using ee cummings as a weapon of mass destruction?
Yeah. I can so totally see people dropping dead by the hundreds here. Most of the kids got away but me and some of the others weren’t so lucky. See, the US army came at night while we were all sleeping cause you know, nighttime is the most dangerous time for all non-mutants. That’s when we mutants like to go around like zombies on some crazy killing spree. The US government can bury the truth all they want and say that they never had a hand in what they did but I saw the truth just before I got shot by a tranquillizer gun.
I woke up with the other kids, barefoot and in my pajamas, in some cell like we were a bunch of rats or something. They didn’t even bother lying to us- said that we were scum, freaks and the same shit we hear all the time. I won’t lie- for a while I thought we were going to die. I mean, this guy named Stryker didn’t exactly hide his intentions from us. I think he got off on scaring the younger kids.
But anyways, we didn’t die. At least the kids didn’t. Dr. Grey did though. I never watched anyone die before. I saw a lot of things happen that day that I’d never seen before like Mr. Summers crying. We always said he had a stick up his ass but that was before. I try not to go near him because what am I supposed to say? Sorry your girlfriend died? How fucking lame is that? What am I supposed to say?
So we got back to the school, which really didn’t look like a school anymore. It resembled something out of those cop shows. You know, those buildings the SWAT teams use for practice. A couple places were off limits like the kitchen and part of the second floor, probably so they could clean up the blood. There’s this rumor going around, and no one’s really come out and to say it’s not true, that Wolverine killed a bunch of those men. I hope it’s true. I don’t care if it’s wrong of me to think that because what those men did was wrong and they deserved what they got. All those bullet holes in the school? They didn’t care if they hit a wall or a student.
Everyone had to help clean up the mess and I didn’t really mind because when you’re busy like that, you stop thinking about everything else. So now there’s new paint and a new kitchen, new walls and windows, and new everything. It’s bullshit. Do they think that by replacing everything we’re all just going to forget? Before everything got replaced there was this hole in the wall right above my bed. They want me to forget that that hole is from one of the tranquilizers they shot at me? Yeah, right.
These stupid meetings we have to go to… at least talking isn’t mandatory. A lot of the other students go on and on about how afraid they were and how they thought they were going to die which makes me want to slap and yell at them. See, they got away through the tunnels. They weren’t shoved in some cell like cattle in a slaughterhouse. They weren’t told that they were going to die. They don’t know what being scared is. They know nothing. They go back to their brand, spanking new beds every night and sleep in their brand, spanking new rooms and pretend that nothing ever happened.
Only one room in the whole school was left alone and that was the library. Guess ee cummings wasn’t all that dangerous after all, huh? It’s kind of ironic. I used to hate the library and all the hours I’d spend in there trying to do homework because Kitty was blasting Apocalyptica too damn loud. I spend a lot of time in the library now for a couple reasons. If the soldiers come back they’ll probably just leave the library alone again, it’s quiet, and let’s face it. Who the hell is going to look for me in the library?
At one of the meetings, the Professor said that anger is a secondary reaction- that another emotion always precedes anger. I think he was trying to get me to say I’d been scared because he looked straight at me when he said that. I didn’t say anything and the Professor didn’t pressure me into talking. Yeah, I was scared and still am. I’m also pissed off.
Sometimes I hate him. He SAID we’d be safe. I mean, wasn’t that the whole purpose of the school? To keep us safe from THEM? He left us though. He should have been there to stop them. He shut down the whole fucking museum on our field trip, why wasn’t he there to shut them down?
We always hear how bad Magneto is but I’m starting to think that maybe Magneto has the right idea. He doesn’t hide behind this false pretense that by hanging ‘Make Love, Not War’ signs around our necks everyone is suddenly going to accept us. They never will. We’ll always be freaks and they’ll always want to kill us. Maybe I’ll follow John’s example and go join the Brotherhood where they actually stand up and fight because sometimes talking just isn’t going to make a difference.
You know what? Fuck this writing crap. Fuck this school and everyone in it. Fuck everything.
Wow. It’s been a couple of months since I last wrote in this thing. To be honest, I’d forgotten all about this black and white composition book. I only found it under the bed because I’m packing up for summer vacation.
A lot has happened since the school got attacked. Some of it’s been pretty rough but it’s all slowly getting better. Or maybe it’s just getting easier to handle?
I blame Kitty, and I mean blame in a good way, for breaking me down. One day after getting back from one of the Professor’s meetings- the ones I never talk at, there was this fucking dartboard hanging right above my bed over the exact same spot where the hole had been. I really don’t know what kind of reaction Kitty was looking for but it probably wasn’t the one I gave her. I sort of went nuts and started screaming at her- something along the lines of, ‘I hate you, you stupid bitch,’ and a couple of other things that were pretty mean. Kitty had been one of the ones to escape and I guess I kind of did hate her for that.
But anyway, back to the dartboard. After I finished screaming at her, I started crying and I could not stop. I seriously couldn’t stop. Not when Kitty started saying sorry over and over, not when she ran to get the Professor, not even when the Professor took me to his office. I don’t remember falling asleep but I must have because I woke up on the leather sofa in his office and apparently I had slept for 18 hours. When I woke up, the Professor asked if I wanted to talk. I told him that sometimes I hated him. I knew he understood. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know. I didn’t tell him everything at first, just bits and pieces. He let me stop going to the meetings and instead I got to meet with him privately and that helped.
Poor Kitty… she thought she had sent me off the deep end with her ‘joke.’ When I finally had gotten back to the room, I found that she’d stuck her picture up on the dartboard. Right on the bull’s eye. That was the first time I’d smiled since the night of the attack. Laughing didn’t come until much later.
I still have some pretty bad nightmares when I sleep but not as often as before and the dreams that aren’t nightmares are pretty blank. Maybe one day I’ll go back to having normal dreams because I really liked sleeping.
I’m still angry about what happened and I still hate the men who attacked my school but I also have other feelings now too. I’m not angry all of the time anymore. I thought some more about the Brotherhood and I changed my mind about wanting to join them. The X-Men uniforms are just a lot cooler. I still think about John though, and wonder how he’s doing.
I’m back to avoiding the library like the plague. I’ve come to the conclusion that Apocalyptica is a pretty cool band after all. Especially when you’re trying to avoid homework.
So that’s where I’m at now- still pretty screwed up but hopefully getting better. Maybe I’ll write in this some more, I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on whether or not I find it again after unpacking from summer vacation. One thing’s for certain though. I’m still not going to write, ‘Dear Diary.’
Signing off,
Jubilation Lee
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