Two Sides Of A Coin

3~Charles

I groan as the motion of the car makes me sick. What's wrapped around me? I try to look down, and catch a glimpse of what looks like the candlestick set from my mansion.

"And why am I wrapped in candlesticks, Erik?" I glower at the portion of him I can see. He doesn't even turn around.

"Why do you smell like a dying skunk?" I ignore his snarky remark.

"Those were authentic," I murmur. I shut my eyes to relieve the feeling of sickness. Why does he always answer a question with a question?

He neglects to turn on the radio, so the silence is consuming. My brain is still lagging; the drinks have not worn off yet. Perhaps he plans on driving until I'm sober. If that's true, good luck cleaning the seats.

I giggle at my own joke, but Erik seems to take no notice.

"So where have you been?" I slur, readjusting my head to get comfortable. He doesn't answer. "Too good for me, too good for me, I see. Did you find any mutants? Eh, don't answer, I don't want to know. You were gone long enough. Should have found an army by now." Erik remains slient. This irritates me, so I stop talking too.

I try to sleep, but the movement of the car keeps me awake. I settle for keeping my eyes closed. My head feels like it is airing out, so I decide to resupply it with alchohol. I didn't want to face reality. I reach inside my robe for the flask I keep there for emergencies. I pull it out-

The tires screech and we come to a stop in such a jerky motion I roll off the seat and onto the floor. I hear the door open, and then the door by my head opens as well. Just as I try to steal a drink the silver flask is taken out of my hand. I can hear it being crushed, presumably by Erik's power over metal. Suddenly hands are clenching my upper arms and I am raised back onto the seat. I am not aware of the rest of the car trip, after a fist to the face ends my consciousness.

The car rolls to a stop as I open my eyes. It is now dark out, but the stars are not visible. Erik gets out of the car and grabs something out of the trunk. My head is pounding, which makes it hard to think. The door opens, and I am somehow levitated out of the car.

"Be careful Erik!" I whisper. He only slams the door, which sends my ears ringing.

I stay, floating, at his side as he walks up to a door. I see many parking spaces that are empty, and recognize the side of the building as a hotel. He puts his hand in front of the lock, and then I hear a click. He opens the door and takes a step inside. When he is satisfied, he hovers me inside and shuts the door.

"I will not be seen in the company of a man in your state. Put yourself together or so help me I will dangle you upside down from the ceiling." I grimace at his harsh words as I am floated into a small bathroom. I am dropped onto the floor, and then the candlesticks are snakily undone until they are flat. Erik grabs them and throws the bag on top of me. Then the door is shut loudly.

I call him foul names until I am sick, and I lean over the toilet seat. This is all his fault. Why did he have to come drag me out of my comfortable life? I'm getting sick because of him. Next he will say I'm in danger and need my powers back. Always so dramatic Erik.

I flush the toilet in an attempt to get rid of the foul stench. In such a confined space it is strong enough to suffocate. I wave my hand in front of my nose, trying to diffuse the odor. I splash cold water on my face from the sink, and I get chills. I open the bag, water dripping onto my short beard. Some clothes she had gotten me and I had refused to wear. However, when I smell them, they don't have a smell, so I put aside their history and lay them out on the floor.

I undress and get into the shower. The hot water feels relaxing, as if it was trying to undo all of the stress I had been under. I linger for much longer than necessary, as the hot water is comforting. When it starts to cool I turn off the water and grab a towel. I dry off and put the clothes on. These aren't to sleep in... oh well, too late. I comb my mess of hair as best I can. I really need to get this cut. I put my previously worn, filthy clothes in the bag.

I exit the bathroom to see Erik sitting on armchair next to the window. He is reading a newspaper. I throw the bag so that it lands at his feet and inspect the room. There are two queen - size beds that have bland-colored sheets. There are a couple of unimpressive paintings hanging on the wall, interrupting the ugly shade of pink that the walls are colored.

"Well," I say, trying to get his attention. The bag at his feet hadn't seems to be enough. He doesn't look up from the paper.

"Yes?" He sounds angry, and at once I am offended.

"What?!" I raise my voice at him.

"You best get some sleep, Charles," he tells me monotonously. What kind of a-a-a-

Actually, sleep sounds good. I stop myself from arguing and flop myself on the bed furthest from him. I find sleep immediately.

Mother lays on the couch passed out, a picture of my father on the table by her head. Kurt Marko stands above her, glowering and sneering at me.

"Do better Charles," he tells me, "you're disappointing her." His voice is just above a whisper for the last phrase, and I stare at him, with too many emotions for any one to be visible.

I am bumped in the shoulder, and the running form of my step -brother Cain joins his father. Cain's fear is emanating from him while gives me a taunting smile from his father's side. Can none of you feel it? I wonder, and focus on my step-father. Kurt is a shade jealous of me, for the attention I still get from my mother, but mostly he is annoyed at my existence. After he married my mother, he drives us all away--his son included.

My vision glitches, and then suddenly my mother, step-father, and step-brother are gone. I feel something similar to a sonic boom go off in my head. Next it is only Erik standing there, shaking his head at me.

"What a waste you are," he says. I start to scream at him, and then I put my fingers to my temple to stabilize my mental attack. He recoils as I drive deep into his memories, pulling out the ones from his time at the camp, when he sees his mother die, and all his other tragic memories. I pull out his fears, and see who they involve, the results of which surprise me. I inflict pain on him, watching the expression on his face--

"CHARLES!" I jolt awake to Erik pulling the collar of my shirt to shake me. I'm out of breath, and struggle to retain it as he walks back to the armchair. I notice his bed has not been touched.

"You were keeping watch," is all I can say.

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Sincerely,
Lorna and Samantha