George
George and his best friend Ethan grew up together. Living next to each other in suburbia, they were two adventurous boys from the moment they met at six. While the world was giving more attention to the growing mutant paranoia, the boys grew up with minimal interaction with any of the concerns of mutants.
When the boys reached 16 years old, Ethan’s parents decided to test Ethan for the mutant gene. The positive test scared Ethan’s parents. They sent Ethan away to a mutant learning facility.
George sat at the dinner table, pushing his food around on his plate. It had been weeks since Ethan left, and the empty seat next to him in school gnawed at his thoughts. He had asked his parents about it, hoping for reassurance or explanation. But their response had been dismissive as if Ethan had never really mattered. “He’s a mutant, George,” his mother said with a wave of her hand, her tone casual, almost indifferent. "It's probably better this way." His father nodded in agreement, barely looking up from the newspaper. "Those kinds of places are where they belong." George clenched his fork, feeling a flicker of anger, but he stayed silent. To them, Ethan had simply become something else—something less. But to George, he was still his best friend.
Something had to be done.
George’s hands were trembling as he crouched behind the chain-link fence. The facility looked more like a prison than a school. High walls, guard towers, barbed wire—nothing about this place felt right. Ethan didn’t belong here. No one did. George knew this was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t sit around anymore. If Ethan was in there, he had to do something.
He slipped through a gap in the fence he’d cut the night before. His heart pounded in his chest, his every step slow and careful. The plan was simple—find Ethan, get him out. He didn’t think beyond that.
But as soon as he was inside, he realized how out of his depth he was. Alarms blared. Mutants—kids—ran in every direction, some using their powers to fight off guards, others just trying to escape. It was chaos. George froze, unsure where to go, his mind screaming at him to run, to hide. But then he saw Ethan.
Ethan was caught in the middle trying to fend off a guard, but the guard wasn’t going down. George sprinted toward him, yelling his name. Ethan turned, his eyes lighting up after seeing his friend, it was short-lived because the guard kicked him down to the ground.
George felt something inside him snap. A surge of energy rushed through him, and before he could control it, the ground beneath his feet trembled. Vines and roots exploded from the earth, crashing into walls, and tearing through the concrete. Trees sprouted from nowhere, their branches whipping through the air. Everything was moving too fast—he couldn’t stop it.
The guards opened fire. George screamed, trying to pull back, but the more he panicked, the more out of control his powers became. He saw Ethan running toward him, but then the ground split and George watched in horror as debris rained down. There was a sharp sound—a gunshot—and Ethan collapsed.
“No—” George’s voice broke. He stumbled forward, his legs shaking, but Ethan wasn’t moving. The vines, the trees, the earth itself—all of it was still writhing, tearing the place apart, but George couldn’t focus. He dropped to his knees beside Ethan, his vision blurring as he realized what had happened. Ethan was gone.
Around him, the devastation spread—mutants fleeing in every direction, guards trying to hold the facility together. But George couldn’t stop it. The power inside him was out of control, the earth responding to his every emotion, every thought. Everything was falling apart, and Ethan was dead.
George looked at his hands, bloodied and shaking, his mind a fog of disbelief and guilt. He had come to save Ethan, but all he’d done was destroy everything.
It must have been days of George holding his friend’s body. It felt like days for George. Come daybreak George heard a voice in front of him.
“George.” The woman in front of him said softly. George didn’t look up or let go of his friend. The woman knelt in front of George, her voice soft but firm. "George," she repeated, gently this time. "You have to let him go."
George didn’t move, didn’t even blink. He just held Ethan’s body tighter, as if letting go would make it all more real. She sighed, lowering herself closer, trying to find the right words.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but he’s gone.” Her voice cracked, but she pushed through it. "This wasn’t your fault, George. You didn’t mean for this to happen."
He still couldn’t bring himself to look at her, or anything around him. All he could see was Ethan. All he could feel was the emptiness.
The woman shifted, “There’s nothing you can do for him now. I’m sorry.”
George looked up to meet her eyes. He found the woman to be just as old as he was. Perhaps a bit older.
Silence hung between them. She stayed there, hoping that something she said would reach him. “I’m not leaving without you,” she added softly. “My name is Lilly. I’m here for you.”
Lilly reached out slowly, her hand hovering for a moment before resting gently on George’s shoulder. He flinched but didn’t pull away. She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around him, and pulling him into a hug.
At first, George didn’t respond, still clutching Ethan’s body. But then something broke inside him. His grip loosened, his arms shaking as the weight of everything came crashing down. He let out a ragged breath and leaned into Lilly’s embrace. She held him tighter, her own eyes filling with tears.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, both grieving in their own way—Lilly for the friend she never knew, and George for the one he had just lost. It wasn’t enough to fix what had happened, but in that hug, George didn’t feel so completely alone.