Hell's Angel

Waking up

I opened my eyes and blinked, letting myself adjust to the harsh light. Where was I? I pushed myself up onto one elbow, the freezing ground stinging my bare arm, and took in my surroundings. People rushed past, averting my gaze. One older woman even grabbed her two kids and turned back around in the opposite direction. Let me see, grimy, stuffy, packed, loud, kinda slimy, it must be the New York subway! I thought it was cleaner.
I sat up, and yawned. A man hissed at his children not to stare at the mutant girl as he passed. What's a mutant?
My wings fluttered slightly; wait, wings?! I flicked my head around and sure enough, two full sized, feathery, angel wings. They were just like the big glass windows in churches. If a bit dirtier. And less 2D.
I tried to stand up, and suddenly the pain started. My brain was pounding, the benches were shaking and the voices. Oh, the voices. I could hear the minds and innermost thoughts and whims of everybody around me, and it was unbearable. Imagine a serrated
knife being pressed slowly through your temples, in one side and out the other. I fell to my knees, clutching my head, people around me starting to point. The benches and trash cans started to hover above the ground. I writhed on the ground, blinded by agony, until eventually, I blacked out.
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I awoke in a padded room with no windows. "Hello?" I called out, incase anyone was listening. "I'm sorry for what happened in the subway, that wasn't on purpose, I swear!" Nope, nobody there. As good a time as any to try to remember, well, anything. My name? My age? Anything? Nothing.
I reached back and felt the soft down of my wings on my back. It was sort of comforting, in an unfamiliar way. Where did these come from?
I heard the door click open and a cop walk in. "Right, kiddo, don't panic. We brought you down to the station 'cos of the havoc down on the subway. Your mutation or whatever isn't working because we've got a temporary cure running through your veins but that'll wear off soon enough. You got any parents, guardians?"
"No. I mean, I can't remember. I can't remember my name! What's... I don't understand what's happened to me."
"Right," He sounded doubtful. "We've had loads of mutant kids in here before, who've been kicked out or whatever. We've got contact with an orphanage, I can call them, see what they can do."
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3 weeks later I was sitting cross legged on a grey bed with grey sheets in a cramped, grey room with a grey door, grey walls, and grey curtains, because discrimination is a thing of the past, of course.
I shared my humble abode with a boy, Ryan, a boy who's face was fixed with a permanent sneer and the mindset of every high school bully. He had decided long ago that it was out fault that we were mutants, and we should have done something about it instead of looking for pity. I knew that that wasn't changing any time soon.
Most of the children were like this. But he held a special grudge. You see, Ryan was here because his parents were killed by mutants, and at the helm of the legion, as he put it, a mutant named Erik Lensherr. And because he couldn't get his hands on Magneto without being killed in an instant the rest of us would have to do. Let's just say I wasn't housed for safety or comfort.
For "safety" I was constantly on the cure, for my mental powers at least, because my wings hadn't budged. It made lying on my back near to impossible, but I'm glad that they remained. I feel like I still have part of me left, and Lord knows I don't have much of that. I don't even have a name. I was given one when I got here, Evelyn, but I'm almost certain that's not me, even if I'm not certain of much.
At meal times, me and the other mutants who hadn't run away yet sat around the grimier table in the corner, trying to ignore the names and spitballs being thrown at us. Freaks, monsters, that's just what we were to them. We didn't belong. I can see why so many before us had scarpered.
"Evie! Evelyn! Flappy bird, come on, don't ignore me!" Ryan shouted, snickering to his comrades.
I turned to face him. "What do you want?" I asked sourly. "What do I want? You know what I want. For a start, for you to drop the act. Everybody knows you're a spy!"
I clenched my fists and stood up, trying to seem as big as possible. Kind of hard when I was thirteen at most. He stood up to face me, towering over me. I glared up at him. "You think I would still be here in this dump if I remembered even a glimmer of who I am, who I was? Why would Magneto send anyone to spy on you anyway? Your parents may have been planning something, but you're too stupid to even begin to!" That's when he grabbed my jugular. Oops.
He shoved me up against the wall and started to whisper into my ear. "not so powerful now, are you?" He crooned as I struggled against his grip. "We all know about that little show of yours at the station, but you try doing that now, eh?" Whilst he talked I fumbled around for something- there it was! One of the glasses, already chipped from its use over the years. I grabbed the glass from the table and smashed it over his head. He dropped to the floor as I glanced around me one last time before crashing through the window. I had made my escape.
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I pulled my knees closer to my chest in a vain attempt to shield myself from the pouring rain. Sometimes, running away seemed like a bad idea, but then I remembered the way they had looked at me. Here, at least I am invisible.
Homeless mutants aren't exactly uncommon, and people don't even try bothering to acknowledge us any more. I was expecting that. I wasn't expecting him to come along.
It was cold, dark, and wet. I was so hungry, so very hungry. Nobody hands their spare change over to us. Nobody feels pity for a monster.
"Hey kiddo, you okay?" I looked up and panicked. There was a huge guy staring down at me. "No please I didn't do anything-" He laughed. "Calm down kid, I'm not a cop! My name's Logan, and I'm here because you didn't do anything. I sort of work for this school, a school for mutants, like you," I smiled. "Not like the orphanage took me in, right?" I grinned peevishly. "That was you?" He asked, chuckling to himself. "I heard about that. I said the kid who stood up for themselves should be given a medal. The Professor didn't agree. Not a great one for violence." He stuck out his hand and I took it feebly. He hauled me up and led me out of the ally.
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Hi! This is my first Marvel fanfic so please, please, please comment your reactions as the story progresses! I know this chapter sucked, but this is just the filler chapters at the start! I promise I will be updating this a lot more that my other fanfics because I actually know the plot of this. So vote, comment and follow! ^'^ Luv you guys