Chapter 5: A New Voice
So, I prewrite chapters. Chapter 7 was long, so I split it into two chapters. So now I have a chapter 7 and 8. And what was originally chapter 8 is now 9. I went camping, and I just got back today, and I wrote a lot while I was gone. So, I have a lot to type up. But nonetheless, I feel accomplished! So here is a new chapter to celebrate!
"Why is there another conference in DC?" asked Sariah. She was perched on a counter in Mr. McCoy's study, which doubled as a laboratory, swinging her legs back and forth. It was the day after her birthday and she had gone down to Mr. McCoy's study as soon as she had come home from school.
"Well, there's elections for a new senator and lots of the candidates are talking about passing a registration act. So we need to talk them out of it. And meeting the candidates is good, so I can be acquainted with the future senator."
"They really want to make us register?!" gasped Sariah. She stopped swinging her legs and stared at Mr. McCoy in surprise. "That's not right! That's gotta be unconstitutional! What happened to fair rights; all men are created equal! What happened to that?!"
"Unfortunately, the mutant haters aren't thinking about our feelings, or thoughts, or our God given rights. They're only thinking about how scared they are of us, because we are different. They only think of themselves. Now, I'm not saying all humans are selfish like that. There are lots of people out there who are supportive of us. Unfortunately, there are a lot more against us than there are for us."
Sariah nodded sadly. "I had a great foster mom, but when she learned about mutants she suspected I was one, because of my case history. She called me a freak, and she told me to get out. So, that night, I left. She used to love me; but then she began to fear me. She was gonna adopt me, too."
"I'm sorry, Sariah," whispered Mr. McCoy, "It's sad to think that people are so afraid of something different, that they never give it a chance. They see it in a new way. They can't look past the difference. It's upsetting, but real."
"It isn't right," sighed Sariah.
Mr. McCoy smiled sadly. "Sariah, I have a question for you."
"Yes?" said Sariah.
"Would you like to speak in DC?"
"Me? Why me?" asked Sariah incredulously.
"Sariah, you are the most passionate young girl I know. You care about our rights. You are the future. I think that you can really help to show others that we're just as human as the others. You can help out more than you know, and help make a difference. That's what you want to do, right?"
"Yes, but I've never talked in front of lots of people before."
"Don't sweat it. It'll be like one of those moments when you and I talk together about this stuff. Don't worry. You'll be great."
"Are you... Sure?" asked Sariah.
"Positive. Now, let's go start dinner. You and I are part of the dinner crew today."
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Sariah was bombarded by people telling her she would do great in DC. Everyone was giving Sariah lots of tips to do well, but to be honest, it was making her even more nervous about speaking.
In fact, she was so annoyed that when she heard a shout of "Hey, Sariah!" she angrily spun around. It had been two days of people giving advice, wishing her luck, telling her she'd do great. Honestly, Sariah was kind of tired of it.
"I don't want your advice!" Sariah blurted out. She had just wanted to go change for school.
A flustered Angelo turned red. "I was gonna say you dropped something..."
Sariah sighed. "I'm sorry, Angelo," said Sariah, taking the crumpled up paper she had dropped. "I'm just sick of all the advice people keep giving me. I'm nervous as it is!"
"It's OK," said Angelo.
Sariah unfolded the paper, frowned, and crumpled it right back up. "This is my seventh attempt at a speech today," she sighed. "I can't seem to get it right."
Angelo took the paper, unfolded it, and read it.
"What are you talking about?" he asked in awe. "This is amazing. No wonder you got asked to speak. This is.... This is one of the best speeches I've ever read."
Sariah blushed. "Really?" she asked.
"Yeah. I'm starting to wonder what the other 6 speeches were like, because this is just amazing as it is."
"Thanks," smiled Sariah.
Angelo handed back the crumpled paper. Sariah noticed tears in his eyes.
"What's wrong?" asked Sariah hesitantly.
"I can't help but feel that Onnie would be proud of you," whispered Angelo.
"How so?"
"I don't know, Sariah. But I have a feeling you're gonna start something wonderful, and I know Onikah would be proud of you for that."
"Thank you."
Angelo smiled weakly at Sariah. "Keep it up, Sariah," he said.
"I will," she promised.
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The odd behavior of Angelo made Sariah wonder. He had gotten emotional over a speech that really didn't have much to do with Onikah. In fact, it had nothing to do with her. And yet, he was telling her that Onikah would have been proud and telling her to "keep it up".
Now, since Onikah's death, Angelo's behavior and mood had certainly changed, and now he was nicer and more considerate. But he was quieter, that was for sure. Yes, Angelo was nice now, but his behavior still made Sariah wonder.
Sariah sat on her bed, staring at the paper in front of her that contained the 7th attempt of a speech that Angelo had been so proud of. Had it really been that good? She hadn't thought so, but she was going to take Angelo's praise into consideration. She was speaking for all mutants out there, young and old. If Angelo thought it was good, it had to be, right? She'd need to ask some other people.
Her mind flashed to Mr. McCoy. She could ask him!
Sariah jumped up and was about to run off to Mr. McCoy when she realized she had to leave for school- and soon. Sighing, she pulled off her uniform and hurriedly pulled on pants, a tank top she had gotten for her birthday, and a jean jacket. She made sure she had her wolf charm necklace on before racing down the stairs. She hurried folded up the speech and shoved it into the pocket of her jean jacket.
"Has everyone gone?" Sariah asked Logan, who was sitting at the dining room table, taking his time with breakfast.
"Uh, Sariah," someone said. Sariah turned to see Claudia.
"Yeah?" asked Sariah.
"You still have your boots from the Danger Room on."
Sariah muttered something under her breath and raced to her room. She pulled off the boots and shoved on some tennis shoes.
"Hurry, Sariah!" yelled Claud. "We're leaving in like a minute."
Scowling, Sariah snatched up her heavy backpack, threw it over her shoulders, groaned at the weight of it, and proceeded to her balcony. She pulled it open, stepped out onto it, and shut the door. She then lowered herself down onto the driveway of the mansion and hurried to the waiting car which Jean was driving.
Sariah threw herself into the back next to Kurt and shut the door. She pulled off her backpack, dropped it at her feet, leaned back, and sighed as the car took off.
"That was close," chuckled Kurt.
"You're telling me," muttered Sariah. She buckled her seat belt and then leaned forward, pulling a pencil out of her backpack. She unbuttoned her jean jacket's pocket and pulled out the crumpled, folded speech. Sighing, she leaned back, unfolded it, and began to look over it.
"What's that?" asked Rogue, peeking over to Sariah from the front seat where she sat.
"My seventh attempt at a speech that Angelo said is actually good," sighed Sariah.
"Can I see?" asked Claudia.
"When I'm done," promised Sariah. "I don't even know if this speech will work out. I might start over."
"You have 5 days to get a speech though," pointed out Jean.
"Ugh," groaned Sariah, "don't remind me. I'm struggling to write this as it is."
"You'll do fine," smiled Kurt.
Sariah sighed. "All these expectations," she frowned. "It's overwhelming."
"We're saying you're gonna do well because we know you will," promised Kurt, hugging his sister whilst trying to get a peek at the speech.
"No peeking," said Sariah, playfully pushing her brother away.
Kurt pouted but relented. Sariah, sighing, folding the crumpled paper back up and stored it away in her pocket again.
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School was a quiet affair until Sariah's 3rd period class. It was mostly reviewing, which Sariah found to be utterly boring.
Sariah hardly ever zoned out in class, but the heat was kind of getting to her. She wanted to take off her jean jacket so she wouldn't be so hot, but she had to keep it on since she had a tank top on underneath.
Sariah found her eyes looking down at the pocket of her jacket, where the speech rested, neatly folded. She wanted to take it out and work on it, but the teacher she had was the kind of teacher who took papers and drawings from kids and showed it off to the whole class. She couldn't risk losing her speech, and she didn't want it read aloud, either. So she kept it in her pocket, longing to work on it.
Soon, Sariah found herself staring out the window at the bright, sunny world, the tempting green grass and blue sky filled with white clouds.
At first, she didn't notice it. But then she did. Someone was at the window, and Sariah made brief eye contact with the person before realizing who it was.
Sariah gave out a horrible gasp and scraped back her chair, dashing to the window.
"Sariah?" asked the teacher.
On her way, Sariah bumped into desks, knocking off papers and books. Kids groaned and shouted as the papers fell and she bumped into them. In a split second, she was at the window. She made brief contact with the person again before they seemed to vanish.
"Sariah Adams!" scolded the teacher. "Pick up this mess and see me after class."
Sariah shook her head in disbelief, not believing what she had seen. She did not hear the whispers of her classmates or hear the teacher's angry words.
"He was right there," Sariah whispered in shock.
When she felt a fuzzy hand on her arm, Sariah jumped. Kurt spun her around and gripped her by the shoulders.
"Sariah, what's going on?" he asked urgently.
"I saw him," she whispered.
"Who?" Kurt asked.
Sariah just shook her head. She was shaking.
For a minute, she thought she heard mutters of, "The mutant's snapped," and, "She's finally gone psycho." Some of the nicer kids were whispering and wondering if she needed an ambulance. This wasn't helping.
Sariah began to shake even more. "Excuse us miss," said Kurt, taking Sariah's arms gently and leading her out into the hall. Sariah allowed herself to be led out. She heard a chair scraping against the floor and heard someone following her.
When they got out into the hall, Kurt didn't shut the door. Someone else did. It was the person who had followed them out- Rogue.
Sariah sunk to the floor, shaking. Kurt took his sister's shoulders again and looked her squarely in the eyes. "What is going on?" he asked.
"I saw him, outside, looking in through the window."
"Who, Sariah?" asked Rogue gently in her accent.
"Robert," gasped Sariah, and the tears began to pour down her face. "I'm telling you, he's been following me, even to school! He's everywhere!"
"Sariah, I'm sure it's nothing."
"No, it's not NOTHING!" cried Sariah, pushing away Kurt's arm. "I know what I saw."
"Sariah, he wouldn't dare to try and do anything. You're in the safety of the school."
"He's out on parole, but he sure ain't afraid to violate it by stalking me, now is he?!"
"Sariah," said Rogue gently, "we don't even know if he IS stalking you."
"Logan smelled him! I saw him twice! This isn't my imagination. Something is up. He's following me, and he isn't afraid to strike again, you mark my words."
Kurt sighed and put his arms around Sariah again in a hug. Sariah did not resist. Rogue joined in, whispering into Sariah's hair. "You'll be fine," she whispered. "I promise."
Kurt smiled softly at Sariah. "I'm sure time will take care of it."
"Why can't Logan take care of it?" frowned Sariah.
"Eh, I'm afraid he might be too tough on Robert," shrugged Kurt.
"He'd deserve it," said Sariah bitterly.
"That isn't true," said Rogue. "You're just upset."
"Look what that man did to me!" cried Sariah, pulling up her pant leg to reveal her old scar. She pulled away some of her hair and pointed to the scar on her forehead. "Look! He did this to me!"
"Sariah, I-"
"Here!" cried Sariah, pointing to her neck angrily. "He grabbed me here once. He left bruises. No one did anything when they saw the bruises. They could have helped me. They didn't! They left me with that monster, and I had to rescue myself! I'm not gonna let that happen again! I'm not going to let him hurt me. I'm not gonna live in fear of him. I want people to help me with him! No one believed me when I told them about Robert last December and they never believed me all those years ago. And I won't have it!"
Kurt pulled Sariah into a tight embrace as she sobbed into his shoulder. Rogue was whispering to her, stroking her hair and trying to comfort Sariah as best as she could.
"Sariah," said Rogue softly, "do you want me to call the Professor to come and get you?"
Sariah looked at her half-sister. "I think I'd like that," she whispered.
"OK," said Rogue, nodding.
Kurt wiped Sariah's tears away and helped her stand up. With his arm around her shoulder, he led Sariah to the office. Rogue swung open the door and Kurt led Sariah in.
"May we use the phone?" asked Kurt. The lady at the desk didn't even look up from the computer.
"Sure," she said.
Kurt gave his sister a kiss on the head and gestured for her to sit down before picking up the phone. Sariah sat down, and Rogue sat next to her.
Sariah did not pay attention to what Kurt said. Not only that, but he was whispering, so Sariah could not tell what exactly he was saying to the Professor. She didn't care, though. She was still thinking of what she had seen. She knew it was Robert. She knew it.
When Kurt hung up, he turned to his sister. But before Kurt could say anything, Sariah blurted out, "Don't you think we should call the police?"
Kurt put a finger to Sariah's lips and gestured to her to go into the hall.
"What?" asked Sariah.
"The Professor said to be quiet about this," said Kurt.
"Why?" asked Sariah.
"He said he'll take care of this. He doesn't want you going to the police."
"Why not?"
Kurt sighed heavily. "What happened when you first started school here?"
"I got arrested." Sariah did not like to be reminded of this.
"The Professor thinks the police aren't going to believe a 15 year old mutant who was arrested for vandalism."
"But I was cleared!"
"I know, but the Professor believes the police will better believe the story than if it came out of a 15 year old's mouth."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Something like it will be more believable."
Sariah's face went red. "I can't believe this. This is so unfair. The police aren't going to believe the word of a 15 year old girl just because she got wrongly accused of a crime and because she's a mutant. This isn't right!"
"I know, I know," said Kurt kindly. "Just don't worry, the Professor can handle this. You have a lot on your plate- the school year is coming to a close, you have your speech- you don't need anything else to stress over. The Professor can handle this."
Sariah sighed. "Come on, Sariah," said Kurt. "You said you wanted help."
"No, I said no one ever helped me when I was little and he was my foster father."
"I remember you saying you wanted help though."
"Kurt- I want this man locked away, for good. I want him where he can't get me. But I want to be the one to do it."
"Sariah, Robert is dangerous. It's better if others handle it. I don't want you hurt." Kurt pointed to Sariah's bad leg and then the scar on her forehead as if to prove a point.
Sariah sighed. "OK, you're right," she said. "I just- I'm upset, and scared, and I don't know how to feel... I'm sorry. I won't try to stop him or get revenge, OK?"
"Good," said Kurt.
"Good," echoed Rogue.
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Sariah collapsed on her bed and sighed. The Professor, who had followed Sariah to her room, smiled softly at the young girl.
"Sariah, we're gonna take care of this," said the Professor. "You don't need to worry."
"I know," smiled Sariah sadly. "It's just that... I feel like, what if nothing good DOES happen? It never has for me. It's not that I'm doubting you can help me- it's just that I'm afraid it won't happen."
"I know, Sariah," sighed the Professor. "You've had disappointments. I understand. And I won't lie, there will be lots of them in life. But that doesn't mean there always will be. There's good in the world, you know. Sometimes it's hard to see. But it comes along. Look past the disappointment, and you'll see you might have learned a lesson, or become a better person. It's all a matter of your point of view on what happens."
"I know," smiled Sariah.
"Now, how about you get some homework or studying done?" said the Professor.
"Alright," said Sariah. As she took fof her jean jacket, she remembered her speech in the pocket. She pulled it out.
"Does Mr. McCoy know I'm here?" asked Sariah.
"Yes," said the Professor.
"Good- because I need to show him my speech," said Sariah, holding up her paper.
"He's in his laboratory," smiled the Professor.
7 minutes later, Sariah was holding out her speech for Mr. McCoy to read. "It's not done, and it's not as good as I'd like. I might start over, because..."
"Sariah," interrupted Mr. McCoy, "this is amazing."
"Huh?" asked Sariah in astonishment.
"This is amazing!"
"I- I feel like I could do a lot better."
"No, no, Sariah. You're expecting way too much of yourself. This is amazing- trust me."
Sariah smiled. "Thank you," she said. "I was just worried this wasn't good enough."
"It is, Sariah," smiled Mr. McCoy.
"Thank you."
Mr. McCoy's eyes narrowed. "Don't you have exams coming up soon?" he asked.
"Yes," said Sariah.
"Well, go grab your books. I can help you study."
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For the next few days, Sariah stayed at home. Mr. McCoy helped her with her homework and studying.
She insisted to everyone that she was fine, but everyone was worried about Sariah. Kurt was checking up on her so much that she was becoming tired of it. As much as she loved her brother, she didn't like his over-protectiveness.
Before she knew it, it was the day before she had to speak and Nelson was reluctantly boarding a plane to fly off to the wedding.
Sariah saw him off.
"I wish I could go to the conference," he said, pouting slightly.
"Try to watch me on TV," smiled Sariah.
"It won't be the same, but I'll try," laughed Nelson.
Sariah ruffled the boy's hair and watched him as he went to his plane.
Once she and the Professor were sure he was safely on the plane, they headed for the mansion.
"Are you ready for your speech tomorrow?" the Professor asked Sariah, who was in the seat next to him. Scott was up front driving.
"Oh, I'm so nervous," groaned Sariah. "There was a lot of people at the other conference. I expect just as many, maybe more. It's nerve wracking, and I've never done anything like this before. And there will be so many important people there!"
"Don't sweat it," said Scott from the front seat.
"You'll do great, Sariah," said Jean, who had of course come with Scott.
"I don't know how I'm going to look past the fact that there's so many people. That's most likely what is freaking me out."
"Don't freak out," said Jean. "You're gonna be OK."
One thing Sariah hated was how her gut instincts always seemed right. She also hated that she, and mostly others, didn't always believe that gut feeling. Maybe it was because she was a telepath. Bu she wasn't a psychic, either.
That day, Sariah couldn't help but feel like something was gonna go wrong, but she wasn't sure what was going to happen.
She didn't like it.
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Sariah slept as best as she could that night. When she woke in the morning, she got up and slowly pulled on her outfit.
Sariah slowly trudged down the stairs. She found Mr. McCoy eating a bowl of oatmeal. She was holding her speech in a sweaty hand.
"Are you ready?" asked Mr. McCoy. "You speak near the end, by the way. I'll be calling you up."
Sariah just nodded nervously and poured herself a glass of juice. She swallowed it in several long gulps.
"Slow down!" laughed Mr. McCoy. "You're gonna make yourself sick."
"I already feel sick," muttered Sariah.
"By the time you have to go up to speak you'll be used to the atmosphere of the room. You'll be more comfortable. Don't sweat it."
"Everyone keeps telling me not to sweat it but it's making me want to sweat it," frowned Sariah.
"I know," sighed Mr. McCoy. "Just do your absolute best."
Sariah nodded. She ate some oatmeal and after 10 minutes, looked at Mr. McCoy.
"I'm ready to go," she finally said.
"Wonderful," smiled Mr. McCoy.
Sariah and Mr. McCoy headed to the car, where early riser Logan was waiting to drive them to the train station.
"Don't be late for your train home," muttered Logan. "And try not to attract a mob. I don't think the Professor would enjoy flying the jet back to DC to save your necks."
Sariah smiled at Logan. "Thank you for giving us a ride," she smiled, ignoring his sort of threat.
The ride to the station was quiet. Logan insisted on seeing them get on the train and take off. Finally, they were on the train and Logan was disappearing from view.
"I think the Professor put him up to be our bodyguards at the train station," muttered Sariah.
"And our chauffeur," muttered Mr. McCoy.
Sariah laughed. "Well, he was kind enough to accept," she smiled.
"Mm," muttered Mr. McCoy.
Sariah smiled. "Let's just enjoy our trip," she said.
Mr. McCoy nodded in agreement.
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The train ride went by quicker than the last time they had rode the train. Sariah and Mr. McCoy once again walked into the conference center, only this time, Nelson was not with them. It seemed... ODD, to not have him here.
Sariah was vaguely aware of half of what was going on. She was busy reading and re-reading her speech even though she felt sure she had memorized it by heart. What got her attention was when Mr. Kelly went up.
Sariah had not seen her principal in a few months- not since he had unexpectedly quit after there had been a fight in the auditorium after school hours that had almost destroyed it. Sariah wasn't sure if the auditorium's destruction had anything to do with his resignation or the new elections for senator.
Sariah carefully listened to what he said- and a lot of it made her mad. She knew that if he became senator, he would try to make life a nightmare for mutants.
Sariah stared at the man with intense anger in her green eyes, but she didn't do or say anything.
After Kelly's speech, Sariah was not aware of anything else but his speech for a while. But when Mr. McCoy got up next to her did she snap back to reality.
"Now," she heard Mr. McCoy saying, "you'll be a little surprised to know that I didn't actually come here to speak. Oh yes, I'm here to hear the speeches, but I don't intend to speak today."
There were whispers as the confused audience whispered amongst themselves.
"A very good friend of mine is speaking instead," continued Mr. McCoy. "I've asked her to speak to you all today. She's bright, and one of the most inspiring and passionate young people I know. Would she please come up here?"
There were whispers as Sariah stood up and made her way to Mr. McCoy. "You can do it," he whispered to the young girl. She nodded.
"Everybody," said Mr. McCoy, "this is my special friend, Sariah, here to give you a speech."
Mr. McCoy went to his seat and sat down as the people continued to whisper. From his spot, Sariah could see Mr. McCoy giving her a thumbs up. With a boost of confidence, Sariah began to speak.
"I know I'm not what any of you were expecting," she said, chuckling. "I suppose you were expecting someone a bit older, definitely not someone who looks like they just stepped out of the halls of a middle school. I'm surpised I got asked to speak too."
The whispering had subsided.
"I'm going to tell you a true story. 15 years ago, a frightened, new, young mother left her baby. She was afraid. Afraid her baby would be hated and feared because of her. This young mother wanted to protect her daughter. She wanted to save her from the hate and fear she faced.
"This young girl never found a family to adopt her, or love her, until almost a year ago, when she found others like her. You see, all her life, this young girl had had powers. Powers she was afraid of. Powers she had taught herself to control. Because of these powers she isolated herself from her foster families so she could learn to control them. She was afraid someone would get hurt.
"And she was given up, and for years left unloved. When she was 9, her foster father, a man who was supposed to love her and take care of her, found out about this young girl's powers. He used her. He hurt her. And when she escaped, she was broken, and hurt, and she could trust no one. She still can't.
"I'm that little girl. My mom is a mutant. She had to leave me to protect me from the people that hated and feared her and who would no doubt hate and fear me because of who my mother was. No mother should EVER have to do that. No mother should have to fear for their newborn's life because of others so much that she had to leave her child."
Sariah took a deep, steadying breath "I've found my family now," she said, "but there are lots of mutants out there lost and rejected from their families just because they're different. I'm lucky to have found people- a family- who cares for me. Yet, so many mutants don't have people who care for them.
"Have you ever thought that the reason mutants lash out with their powers is because they're scared? Scared of the people who hate them because of something that isn't their fault? Have you ever thought that maybe these mutants feel like the only way to protect themselves from the hate is with their powers? That they feel lost, and hurt, and unstable because of the hate?
"I'm going to tell you from firsthand experience that growing up, as a teenager, in this day and age, is difficult. Lots of other teenagers will tell you the same thing. But it's even harder when you're one of us- a mutant. People pick on you, and hurt you, and put you down. We are at the time in our lives where we are building a sense of who we are. How we are seen by others is important- and the hate can put us down. It damages us. It damaged me.
"When I first started my current school in New York, the hate was shocking. Everyone knew I was a mutant. I was falsely accused of vandalism because my name was spelled out on a wall with spray paint. And because I was a mutant, it was instantly assumed it was I who did it. I was arrested. No other evidence to suggest it- just circumstantial evidence. I was cleared, but it still weighs heavily on me. Who knows if it's still on my record?
"Mutants are still people. Can we help it if we have these strange abilities? We were born with our gifts, just like people are born with a disability, or crooked fingers, or with the ability of being double jointed. We aren't targeting them. But we're targeting mutants. We can't help that we are different. We didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for this.
"This needs to stop- the hate, the rejection, everything. We need to accept mutants. Take this from a 15 year old who has experience this first hand. If we make mutants register, we become an unfair target. This could put our lives at risk!
"What about "All men are created equal with unalienable rights"? What about that?! To strip of us of our rights, and freedoms, is not only unconstitutional, it's wrong. And I hope you can see it in your hearts to realize just that. We can live together peacefully. We don't have to go through with any of this. It's unnecessary, and wrong. And I hope you can see that too."
There was a dead silence as Sariah looked out at all the people. There were so many people, and she had spoken to them all. She was proud of herself.
She knew, that at home, everyone at the school was watching her on the television, and perhaps Nelson was too. She knew thousands, maybe millions, of other people were watching her. For a split second, Sariah couldn't help but wonder if her mother was watching too.
And then, Sariah's sharp eyes caught something moving in the back of the room, close to the door. A man was getting up and going to leave. And Sariah knew exactly who it was.
Without thinking, Sariah shoved her speech into her pocket and hurried to the back of the room. The man was vanishing through the door. She could hear whispers and Mr. McCoy shouting to her, but she hurried after the person anyway.
"Stop!" shouted Sariah. The man paused and turned around and Sariah could see him clearly.
"What are you doing here, Robert?!" demanded Sariah.
"Just seeing how you're doing," he smiled crookedly.
In a flash, Sariah had launched herself at Robert, socking him in the face.
"You sure are tougher than you were so long ago," laughed Robert, wiping blood from his blood.
"You're darn right," spat Sariah, trying to lunge herself at him again. But he was running, and Sariah began to follow.
"Stop running and face me, you coward!" screamed Sariah. Several people yelled and dodged out of the way of Sariah. She used her powers to try and launch a decorative chalkboard outside of a café at Robert, but she missed. More people yelled.
The chase led Sariah to a quieter street with less people. She noticed that there seemed to be some down on their luck people living in this area of DC that she had chased Robert to.
Sariah came to a halt when Robert himself stopped running. Robert was smiling.
"You should have let it be," frowned Robert. "Now we're going to have taking care of your meddling."
The color drained from Sariah's face. Before she could speak, she felt a hand clamp over her mouth.
Reacting instinctively, Sariah brought up her leg, pulled it forward, and then, swiftly and roughly kicked her captor in the knee.
The hands dropped from her mouth as the man bent down in pain. Balling her fists, Sariah brought up a force field and slowly turned around to see that she was nearly surrounded by men- nearly a dozen including Robert and the man she had kicked.
Some of the men were familiar- she had seen them in DC as part of the mob at the hotel.
Robert smiled. "I told you she knew how to kick," laughed Robert. "That's why I got so many of you to help me with her."
"Joke's on you," spat Sariah, "you couldn't take me out if you tired."
Robert chuckled. "Don't count on it."
Sariah looked around at Robert's friends. They looked like they could easily take out a 15 year old girl.
"Now, didn't your mothers ever tell you not to hit a girl?" frowned Sariah.
"Well, our mommys can't stop us now," spat one of the men, "and yours certainly can't save you."
Sariah scowled at the man.
"What's that?" he asked. "Oh yeah, your mommy didn't love you enough to keep you. Looks like she was never there to save you in the beginning."
"You shut up about my mother!" yelled Sariah, lunging for the man. "My mother left me so I could have a better life and so I could be safe from idiots like you! Idiots that hate on people just because they're different!"
The man easily threw off Sariah.
"Hey, you stop that!" shouted an angry voice. Sariah looked up to see a police man rushing towards the group. In a flash, Robert had fired off a shot in the officer's direction.
Sariah felt someone grabbing her arm. She screamed and began to squirm as she became aware that someone was carrying her away from the men. When Sariah looked up and saw that it was Mr. McCoy carrying her, she stopped squirming as she was rushed to a waiting car.
Sariah could hear the angry shouts and some more gun shots, but Mr. McCoy shoved her into the car, locked the door, and would not let her look out the window of the car. He held her close, and she buried her face in his shirt as she listened- not watched- in horror. A short while later, Sariah heard sirens coming on and saw a few police cars driving by.
"What in the world?!" gasped Sariah, pulling away and trying to look again.
"It's OK," said Mr. McCoy, pulling the girl back into a tight embrace. "They got him. He's gone. He won't get you ever again."
"How- how did they find him?" asked Sariah as she shook.
"I alerted the police to be on the look out for you and Robert. They stationed men everywhere. I followed you as best as I could, and I realized Robert was heading to the outskirts of town."
"Who were all those men?" asked Sariah. "I recognized a lot of them- they were some of the men that was at the hotel last month."
"I reckon that Robert is.. Part of a gang."
"A gang?"
"A sort of... Organized group of mutant haters."
Sariah just stared at Mr. McCoy. She shook her head slowly, then quickly as if trying to erase her memories of the incident.
"I just want to go home," she whispered. "I'm scared. I just- I want Kurt." In her fear, the first thing she could think of to make everything better was her brother. She just wanted to hug him. No doubt he had heard about this by now... And if so, Sariah wanted to let him know she was OK, and she wanted to be comforted by him and Rogue. That was all she wanted- home.
************************************************************************
"Sariah, you're on the news!" called Claudia.
Sariah's head jerked up from the book she was reading. "Ouch," she muttered, massaging a now sore neck. "I think I have whiplash."
Sariah headed downstairs. JD, Kitty, and Claudia were gathered around the TV. "Look!" cried Claudia.
Sariah was indeed on TV- it was a recap of the conference and she had seemed to be the highlight of the whole thing.
"I'm seeing everything in a new light," said a random person. "I never saw it like this before, but wow, that girl delivered one of the best speeches I ever heard."
Sariah felt arms wrapping around her from behind. She could tell by the fuzzy blue hands that it was Kurt. "I'm very proud of you, Kleine Schwester," he murmured into her hair.
"Thank you," said Sariah, turning and hugging her brother.
"Keep it up," he said, kissing her hair. He ruffled it and transported onto the couch.
Sariah went over and sat next to her brother.
As soon as the next news report came on the TV, Kitty hurriedly changed the channel. It had been a report on the incident with Robert. Sariah's name had not been released to the press, and no one knew that Sariah, the same girl who had given that speech, had almost been kidnapped by a gang. In fact, a lot about her had been withheld from the media.
Sariah was grateful.
"I'm glad he's back behind bars," muttered Kurt.
"He's facing charges for attempted kidnapping, shooting at those police officers, trying to attack me, and stalking," said Sariah. "Plus, parole violation and maybe even charges related to that gang. Something tells me he isn't getting out in a long time- not even on parole."
"Thank goodness," muttered JD.
"Don't worry, any of you," smiled Mr. McCoy, who had joined the group. "He isn't going to be causing us any more grief."