School - Rey
I sat in the car as we drove to the school.
The handcuffs were still around my wrists but no one complained as I sat cross legged so that was a bonus.
Stupid Henry Wilkins was driving the car, I'm assuming it was his car because it smelled like wet dog, despite the air freshener that dangled from the rear view mirror.
And the worst part was Guville had to go back to work so it was just Wilkins and I in the car.
He kept trying to talk to me.
"So Rey, planning on making any friends at your new school?" He asked me though there was a sneer on his face so the question felt more mocking than real.
I didn't reply, instead just settling to give him a cold glare to which he just laughed.
"Sadly though it's an all boys school." He continued with that same sarcastic voice and that smug smile on his face that made me want to commit murder. "So a.." He trailed off to laugh at whatever corny joke he had made in his head. "Bachelor like you will probably struggle." He bursted into a fit of laughter at his own joke at my expense whilst I just rolled my eyes.
Jokes on him I would struggle to get a girl even it weren't an all boys school.
And yeah I just roasted myself.. I know.
Being the bigger person, I ignored his comment and instead just stared out of the window at the scenery.
Trees blurred into a sea of green as comically white clouds sat in the sky, almost like sheep without the head and legs. Occasionally there was a house but it was overshadowed by the brilliance of the nature trail in all it's glory as electrical lines spread across the road, becoming a temporary seat for the occasional pigeon.
As I saw a particular dirty pigeon I couldn't help but picture Wilkins in it's place.
On second thought I'd rather look at the pigeon.
As if on cue a bird flew over the car and I heard a wet splat before something slid over the window of the car.
I don't think I need to describe it to you, we all know what pigeon shit on a window looks like.
Wilkins let out a list of profanities that I will not repeat so allow your imagination to really go wild there as I struggled to not fall into a fit of laughter.
"Don't laugh." Wilkins snapped at me and I pinched my lips together to stop the snickers from coming out.
We continued to drive down the road and more scenery passed, the trees on the outside blurring into a sea of green as we headed towards the stupid ass boarding school.
Eventually an imposing building came into view, the white paint peeling off to reveal ugly grey walls in desperate need of washing.
As we get closer a tall electric fence faded into my sight and I scowled, feeling myself tense up as I clenched my hands into tight fists. "Why would a school have an electric fence?!" I asked as I tried to hide the irritation in my tone.
"It's a juvenile correctional facility." Wilkins piped up, an evil smile growing on his face. "Oh did I forget to mention that?"
My heart dropped in my chest, sinking to the ground as I closed my eyes for a few seconds.
I was trapped.
Stuck. Unable to move.
Locked up and locked away like a prisoner.
My mind immediately goes back to memories of my childhood, tears filled my eyes at the memories of Francis chaining me down with metal strong enough to contain the Hulk so as to stop me trying to escape from the Workshop.
I rubbed my head slowly to try and get rid of the memories and it works, I pushed down the thoughts back to the back of my head as I often did when I tried to ignore the things I'd gone through in the Workshop.
The tests they'd done to see how strong I was with Angel's mutation running through my muscles.
The experiments to see how fast I could regenerate with Wade's mutation in my body.
The trails to see what would hurt and what wouldn't with Francis' mutation numbing my pain receptors.
I was supposed to be perfect, unbreakable and the best soldier for the Workshop in generations. With Wade's and Francis' mutations I would be unstoppable, unable to feel pain and able to regenerate.
But mutations don't work that way and I wasn't that powerful:
I don't heal at a fast pace, picture a snail in a five meter race and you get the idea, not to mention the fact that I have to put my hand on the wound for it to heal.
My pain receptors are completely fucked up, like Wade when he gets high, and I can handle a gunshot wound like it's nothing but if a thin piece of dead tree (paper) decides that it's going to be a little bitch then I might as well just dig myself a grave and jump in it to stop the pain.
I ignore the memories, stubbornly deciding not to go down memory lane and relive my childhood, instead to focus as the car parks and Wilkins opens his door, climbs out before opening mine and leading me to the entrance of the school.
My life was about to become a living hell. I could tell that just by looking at the heavy iron gates.
This is gonna go well.
Not.