This was a one shot that I've expanded into a multi-chapter story. Enjoy!

Chapter 1
I was coming home from an awful night at work. Every once and a while a customer gets too shit-faced to keep his hands to himself and tries to grope me or something. Mark, the owner and my boss, always kicks such ill-mannered individuals out of the bar, but that never takes away from the feeling of filth and worthlessness that stays with me for the hours following. So, I still felt like crap. I'm lucky to have Mark for a boss. He's a decent guy, but I could easily just quit tomorrow if it weren't for the fact that I have to pay rent. Damn rent! Do you have any idea how expensive rent in Manhattan is? Think of it this way: at that time I was barely surviving with two jobs. Not only did I work at Mark's Bar on 50th five nights a week, but I also worked part time, three times a week for a catering company stationed in Brooklyn. Combined, those two jobs could only pay the rent and utilities of an apartment (a single room and a bathroom). That's not to mention groceries, clothing, phone, and television bills. The television bill wasn't an issue any more since my TV broke. I still had it sitting in the room though, because I saved up so hard to buy it. Clothing wasn't such an issue either. Between the Salvation Army and thrift shops (NYC has the best), I had it covered. The phone bill was virtually nonexistent. No one ever called and I never called any one, unless I was calling in sick from work, but that was rare. The reason I don't have any friends is because I can't trust people, or at least it's very hard for me to trust people. Especially now a day that mutant issues are moving to the forefront of the news and is practically ripping the world apart. Oh, by the way, I'm a mutant. I don't know if I made that clear before. When I made it clear to my family they disowned me. That's another reason I don't get pone calls; no family relations.
I was fifteen then and have been on my own ever since. Having nowhere to go, I took a cab from the only home I'd ever known in Jersey City to Manhattan. I slept on a park bench my first night. In the morning a cop woke me up and gave me the address of a women's shelter I could go to. The shelter enrolled me in public school and I lived there until I turned eighteen and graduated.
As for the grocery bill, well, I may be a mutant, but my mutation doesn't include the ability to live with out food. I get by well enough though. Sometimes I bring home leftovers from the bar. That helps.

I got off the train on 96th street and Broadway but didn't feel much like going home. I still felt like shit from what that guy at the bar tried to do to me. I decided that instead of heading east to my apartment I'd go west and take a walk in Riverside Park. I know what you're thinking. I must be crazy to go for a leisurely stroll in Riverside Park at 3:30 in the morning, but I've done it plenty of times before, and I can adequately defend myself. Up until I left home, I'd been taking Jet-kun-do classed [author's note: Bruce Lee rules! and had made it to the rank of black belt. Living in a shelter and going to public school in the city also demanded that I improve my level of self-defense. Then, of course, there're my mutations. I've only had to use my skills twice, and my mutations only once, and that was on the train. I may occasionally see a homeless guy, but aside form that my late night walks in the park are peaceful.

It was a perfect night for such a walk. There was a full moon with no clouds blocking it. I could even see about ten stars. Wow, I thought. Those dignitaries on Ellis Island sure have great weather for their Gala. Just then I saw a bright light that burst over the river way downtown. I figured they must have been fire works from the Gala and kept on walking.
As I walked, I gazed out to the river. The Hudson may be rat infested and polluted, but with the moon light reflecting off its gentle ripples it really looked beautiful. I looked out at the lights coming from buildings in Jersey. I really missed my family right then, even though I knew they probably didn't miss me. I tried to get in contact with them when I had turned eighteen and bought the apartment, but they'd moved from where we used to live.

I was so busy looking across the river to Jersey, thinking about my parents who didn't miss me, that I almost didn't see the huge dark mass piled on the ground in front of me. My senses kept me from tripping over it. That's mutation #1: I sense things (physical things) right before they happen. It's useful in small ways, like keeping me from walking into doors, tripping over things (i.e. huge, dark blobs sitting in the middle of the sidewalk) or if some one is right behind me and about to attack. I kind of have a "spider sense", sort of like that spider-guy that's always swinging around Times Square, but red and blue really aren't my colors.
Any way, I didn't trip over the blob. Instead I stumbled back a bit and tried to see what it was I'd almost stepped on. It was pretty big for something that was just a random blob in the park. I looked a little closer and could see it was a person. A man, to be more specific. He looked like he could have been homeless, but why would he be sprawled out in the open like that? "Maybe he passed out on a acid trip or something," I thought. Acid would have been strange though. It's usually crack and heroin that drive people to homelessness, not acid. I'd heard that when I was living in the shelter. Taking a better look at him I realized he was soaking wet. There was a puddle of water around where his body was that lead to the short fence, meant to bar people from the river. The fence was also dripping.
"Holy shit!" was the first thing that came to mind and mouth. "This guy was in the river."
I cautiously walked closer and crouched down next to him. I reached and tried to roll him over. That proved harder than anticipated. His wet clothes weighed him down and he was somewhat heavy to begin with. When I turned him over, I looked at his face for any obvious vital signs. I was able to make out some of his general features. He was white (Caucasian, whatever [annoying political correctness). His complexion was a little dark.
Maybe he'd Mediterranean, or… I thought. Then I saw that his skin wasn't dark, in fact it was splotched. If he was in the water this should have washed off. My mind started racing. He's a mutant! I was suddenly struck by a certain sense of mutant comradery. Maybe it was because I'd been thinking about how my parents dumped me. I don't know. All I knew was I had to help him, and quick. His blue lips told me he was going to succumb to hypothermia soon.
I need to get him to a hospital, I thought. No. Most hospitals won't take mutants. After a moment of thinking, I wrapped my coat around him and hoisted him over my shoulders. I shuddered at the chill of the late autumn without my coat for protection. I couldn't begin to imagine the cold his body must have been feeling. Adjusting him so that he wouldn't fall, I took off into the air toward my apartment.