I've never tried a X-Men fanfic, but have always wanted to. So this is me giving it a whirl. Let me know if it's no good, or what-not. I'm always up for critique, criticism, help, etc. Oh, and main character's name is pronounced Ross-lynn.

Looking in the mirror, I couldn't see a monster. But that was what they called me. My icy blue eyes took in my appearance. I had red hair so dark it was the color of garnets. Or blood. My skin was naturally porcelain. I didn't look like a monster to me. But when I focused on my mouth, on the teeth my lips hid, I knew why they called me it. I had fangs. Like an animal. I pulled my lips back in a mock snarl. Only it didn't look fake. I quickly shut my mouth.

"Roslyn! Sweety, come out."

I could hear my mother. Her labored breathing, her heart racing. I could literally smell her emotions. I shook my head. You can't SMELL people's emotions.

I opened the door, and she stood there holding herself.

"Well...how bad is it..."

She was afraid. I used my hand to pull my top lip up. She gasped.

"Oh, honey, your teeth. Look at your fingernails!"

I looked down. I didn't have the nerve to tell her that they had been like this for four years now. For four years I filed my nails down and I pulled my fangs out. But they grew back. They always did.

"I know."

I could see sadness in her eyes. But I couldn't tell if it was for me or her.

"Principal Wilkins said your expelled. I don't know what to do Rosie."

She had reverted to using her pet name for me. I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet.

"I could find a new job, we could move..."

She didn't want to. Her life was here, with her boyfriend, and their son. I was 18 now, legally I could leave.

"I could leave."

She looked at me, and the sadness left her eyes.

"Roslyn Hawthorne, don't you talk like that. We are a family, and that's the way we're gonna stay. I don't care what any piss-ass bigot says. Your not a monster. Your my daughter."

My mom's southern twang was coming out. I smiled at her language. She would only let me see this side of her. Her rough tough southern belle side.

"Are you sure?"

I opened and closed my hands. My nails looked like talons, or claws. And they were sharp. I was always cutting myself with them.

"Look what I'm capable of."

I held a nail over my forearm and with the littlest pressure, I split it open like I was cutting paper. Blood seeped out.

My mother jumped up and grabbed my arm, trying to put pressure on it.

"Oh baby, why did you do that?"

I could feel it healing as she ran into my bathroom and came back with a towel. A look of astonishment came over her features as she dabbed the blood away to see no wound.

"I heal mom. I can also hear, see, and smell really well."

She nodded, and took a seat on my bed. She looked so lost.

"I don't know what to do here baby...I want you to stay. Hell, I want to watch you graduate from High School, then college. Then give you away at your weddin'."

I laughed softly. She had such high hopes for me. But I was a freak, a monster. I couldn't do any of those things. Not here.

"I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

I looked at her, trying to understand.

"Your daddy..."

"You said my daddy died."

"I lied."

"Your daddy was like that. He had claws, and teeth. I'm sorry Rosie. I never thought you would be like him. Shit, I didn't even know I was pregnant until after he was gone. But you was born healthy, no abnormalities."

"Where is he?"

"Sweetheart, I don't know. He was just travelin through. And I was young."

"What's his name, what's he look like? I can find him, and he can tell me what I am."

"His name is Allan, Allan Black."

"What's he look like? Where was he goin?"

She got up from my bed and headed out the door. I followed her, ignoring the ringing of my iphone. She walked into her bedroom and over to her closet. From the top shelf she pulled down an old shoe box. Gently setting it on the bed and removing the cover, she began to rummage through it.

"Here he is."

She handed me the picture. Three guys, and one young girl. I looked like him, I realized. I had my mother's lips, and nose. But everything else, was from him. He had deep red hair, light blue eyes. He was tall, and muscular. I looked closely at the photograph. I could see his claws.

"Who are these guys?"

I pointed at the two other men in the photograph.

"Two of his army buddies."

"They have names?"

She looked deep in thought. She had taken the picture back from me to study it. That's when I noticed the print on the back.

"There's names on the back."

Allan Black, Vivian Hawthorne, Jim Howlett, Victor Creed. 1988

"Where were they goin?"

"Over to Iraq or some place like that. Getting ready for Desert Storm."

"Okay. Ma, I'm taking this. If I can't find Allan, maybe one of his old buddies knows where he is."

"They're dangerous Roslyn. Especially that Victor. He was like Allan too. More animal than man."

"I'll be careful, but I gotta know."

She nodded. I thought she would fight me more on this. Maybe she really just wanted me to leave. Either way, it didn't matter. I knew who my biological father was, and I was going to find him. He had some questions to answer.

Later that night.

"She's not normal Vi."

"Don't you talk about her like that!"

They were trying to whisper, but I heard. My mother knew it too.

"What if she hurts someone? Huh, ever think of that?"

"She won't...Allan was a good man..."

"You knew the guy for a couple of nights Vivian..."

I came down the stairs, no longer content to hide in the shadows.

"I made up my mind. I'm leaving in the morning."

"Roslyn.,you know I think of you as a daughter, but..."

"Shut up Greg."

He looked at me, and I could taste his anger. He wanted to hurt me.

"Rosie..."

I looked at my mom and smiled.

"I looked online. I've got the addresses of some Allan Blacks. The two others weren't listed anywhere."

"Are you sure this is what you wanna do sweetie?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay. I can't stop ya. You bring your phone with. Don't worry about the bill. I'll take care of it. I don't want you out there without a way for me to get a hold of you."

Greg nodded, but remained silent. I think he would have given me the keys to his BMW if it would have got me out of the house faster.

"What have ya got for money?"

"I'd been saving up everything for the Chevelle, so I've got almost $8500, and the money I got from graduation cards. So about $9000."

My mom smiled, it was sad, and happy at the same time.

"I was gonna give this to ya when you graduated."

She handed me a bulky envelope. I opened it and a set of keys slid out. I looked at her, and then at the keys, and back to her.

"Mom!"

"I had old man Warren keep it in the front yard, with the sign so you didn't get suspicious."

I didn't know what to say, so I pulled her into a hug. She gave me the car of my dreams, and she was letting me go.

"It's all gassed up out front."

I nodded.

"I'm gonna miss you."

Greg disappeared downstairs. I could hear him rummaging around.

"Where you going first?"

I started to tell her when Greg came back up the stairs holding a small safe. He set it on the table in front of him. I looked at it quizzically, and then at him.

"You may not believe it Rose, but I do think of you as a daughter. But your dangerous now, not only for us, but for yourself. You need to find people like you, people who can help you understand what you are."

He picked up a gun from within the safe. It was a Desert Eagle .357 Magnum.

"I know you know how to shoot, so I want you to take this with you. Put it under the seat, keep it in your purse. Just make sure you can reach it."

He handed over the heavy gun, along with a box of shells.

"Thanks Greg."

"Do me a favor though."

"Yeah?"

"Don't kill anyone with it. It's registered to me."

I laughed, and shook my head.

"I'll try not to."

He nodded.

We sat down there, my mother, Greg and I until the wee hours of the morning. We were hammering out details. Greg even brought some maps up and was helping me choose highways and motels.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, ya hear?"

My mom pulled me into another crushing hug. Deep down, I think she knew I would be gone before she got up.

It was nearly dawn before I crept down the stairs and out to my car. I spent the night deciding what came and what stayed. As quiet as I could, I opened the trunk and put my suitcase inside.

After I shut the trunk, I just marveled at my car. 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS. Black. With leather seats. Sure it could use a new coat of paint, and the interior could probably be redone. But the engine was solid, and it was mine.

I smiled and got inside. My mom had even had a cd/mp3 player installed. With a jolt of excitement and trepidation, I slid the key into the ignition and the beast roared to life. I shifted it into gear and tore off down the driveway.

I had money, a good car, and a big ass gun in my purse. I felt invincible.