"I said get outta here, freak!" the bar-owner yelled over the cries of the crowd. All right, I admit I'm blue, and have just a tad of red in my eyes, but that didn't make me a freak, did it?

"Look at it! It's not even human!" cried a woman behind me. The entire bar agreed with her.

"I am too!" I yelled back at her over the slurs.

"Then how come you don't look it?" came a drunkenly slurred reply.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Smurf? Get out of my bar!" the bar-owner yelled again. I scoffed at him and headed for the door. I didn't need these drunkards anyway.

I walked down the silent street, trying to avoid the brightness of the streetlights. Still the dim outer ring of light reflected off my blue skin. Why was I considered so freakish? I continued my pity-poor-me walk down the empty street. I didn't have scales, or a tail-I had all 20 fingers and toes! I was just blue. While walking, I found a discarded aluminum can, and kicked it-sending it sailing down the street.

I turned to look back at the bar. The owner glared at me, his fat face scrunching up as he scowled. He quickly set up a sloppy makeshift sign in the window reading, "No Mutants!" Funny. As far as I knew, there was only one mutant in existence: me. Doctors had told me that at a young age. My heart longed to find another-someone capable of dealing with my differences. I pretended to be coping with my situation, but I wasn't, at least not in a way that I could recognize.

The doctors' experiments had proven that I was human. Skin color doesn't make a man! Honestly, did anyone learn anything from the Civil War? I have the same DNA coding as everyone else-in the way that I had to two eyes, ears, arms, etc, I just had more active DNA than a "normal" human. Inside everyone is the same amount of DNA, and usually only a small percentage has had a use discovered for it. The rest of it was discarded as useless. Well, this useless DNA, or some of it anyway, had been activated by something in my body-a mutagen. Thanks to the extra working gene coding, I got to be a "freak." Something had happened before my actual birth, and I was still trying to discover what exactly that was.

"Why can't I just be normal!" I screamed at the darkened night sky.

I half-expected it to answer, "Noah, God hates you. That's why."

I continued down the street, in no real direction. I didn't know where I was going-I had nothing left. My parents had disowned me and thrown me out. All other family was dead. I had nowhere to go. I was a lost cause and, sadly, I knew it. A box buried six feet underground didn't sound so bad at that moment.

Suddenly, a loud screech pieced the silence, ripping it like a piece of paper. It sounded like a sports car going much to fast. I spun around to see what was going on, only to be knocked to the ground less than a second later, my head slamming to the hard gravel, followed by the rest of my body. My vision blurred and darkened until I finally went unconscious.

* * * * * *

I awoke in a very bright, sterile room. Everything was white, except for me. I couldn't have hidden if I had wanted to, and at the moment I very much wanted to! I had been stripped down to my red and black plaid pants, and laid down on a cold metal bed. My back was almost numb from the cold. I struggled to move from the bed, and I moved maybe an inch before realizing that I was strapped down quite securely. Not good. I got the sinking feeling that I was being watched, and put on display. A flutter let loose in my stomach, making me feel nauseated.

Instead of struggling against my bonds in a hopeless attempt to free myself, I turned my head to each side surveying what could have possibly been the last surroundings I would ever see.

The white room was empty, save for me and a small table next to the metal stretcher. The characteristically sterile smell that is hospital finally wafted into my nose, making me feel even queasier that I already was.

Upon the small table mentioned before, sat a syringe with a needle about an inch, perhaps an inch and a half long. A semi-transparent, red, bubbly liquid filled the inside. I had a sinking feeling I was going to find out what the mysterious red liquid would do when introduced into the bloodstream.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the empty room, proceeded by the sliding opening of a squeaky mechanical door. I was going to die. My breath quickened, and not amount to trying to mask it was going to help. I could feel my palms getting sweaty. A tall slender woman approached the table where the needle lay. She picked it up, toying with it. I closed my eyes tightly. I couldn't watch that sharp, pointy, monstrosity plunge its sharp little head into my skin in a precisely calculated area on my arm to inflict the most pain. Seconds later my eyes were still clenched shut, but nothing had happened. I opened one eye, slowly and suspiciously, then the other. The woman was still standing next to the bed, toying with the needle.

The woman looked at me, smiled in a mysterious way, and began to change. I'm not talking clothing. I'm talking about everything. I'd seen it with my own two eyes, and still didn't want to admit it. I wanted to look away, stay ignorant, and be perfectly content that way. I wanted to ignore what I was seeing, but, like a car wreck, it was too fascinating to force myself to pry my eyes away. Her pale white skin darkened, her body consumed by a dark-brown complexion that seemed to suit her better for some reason. Her blonde hair appeared as if it had been lit ablaze just long enough to scorch but not burn off, as its sunshine color was consumed by a raven-black. Her white nurse garb was almost literally sucked into her body, replaced with what looked like a gray prisoner's jumpsuit. Her green eyes lightened into a bright blue. I blinked a few times, making sure I hadn't been imagining things.

She smiled brightly and looked at me in an endearing way. "The people who brought you here were not good people, Noah."

I looked at her, bewildered. "Where is here? And how did you know my..."

"Your name?" she finished. "Simple. I found your wallet discarded on the floor outside," she explained. Did I even own a wallet? Since when did I carry it around? I shrugged inwardly and decided to give the girl the some kind of credit before I automatically assumed she was guilty of something.

She continued on. "As for your first question, I'm not sure I know myself. All I know is that this facility is for mutant experimentation."

"But I thought I was..."

"You're not the only mutant on the face of the earth, Noah."

"Well, since you can change, and I assume look like anyone..."

"As long as I've seen them before," she answered.

"Then why haven't you ever tried getting out of here? Sounds like it'd be pretty easy to me."

"Because, I have nowhere to go," she replied, sighing sadly. She stopped playing with the syringe and set it back down on the table with a soft clink, then turned to the door. "I may come back for you, dear Noah. For now I must go before I am discovered missing." She walked briskly to the door with softer footsteps following her than before.

"Wait!" I called out. "Since you know my name, it's only fair I know yours."

She paused for a half second to long within the non-suspicion time limit. I was a little nervous until she answered, "Kristine. I must go now, dear Noah." I heard her footsteps dart out of the room. The door squeaked open again and shut with a soft click. Kristine was gone. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating. I could buy the, "I found your wallet outside," thing. I was probably just too disconnected to remember bringing it with me to the bar. However, the whole "dear Noah" crap was just a little over the top. Five minutes of speaking to each other and she's calling me "dear?" Maybe I didn't get out much, but that wasn't something I ran into very often. Maybe she didn't get out much, and this was all just a result of social deprivation. It was still weird.

I heard the squeaky door slide open again. Was Kristine back so soon? Soft, heavy footsteps approached. I assumed that the person now with me in the room wasn't Kristine this time. The new figure that now loomed over me was an older man with a fat face and stocky build. He reminded me of the stereotypical fat cop seen in the movies. Damn those doughnuts. I laughed inwardly at my thoughts, even though I probably shouldn't have. Bright glares reflected from the florescent lights overhead onto the man's glasses. His smile screamed evil. My brain silently rattled off every curse word known to man. Damn my ignorance. I knew being here was not a good thing. Why had I begun to delude myself into thinking differently?

I guessed right away that he wasn't one of my fellow mutants, his staring at the syringe in a serine way contributing much to the idea. However, there was a certain thing about him the reminded me of someone. My mind was at a blank.

He picked up the needle, pricked himself with it, slightly-only enough to draw blood. He didn't inject the liquid though. It was meant for me. He nodded to himself in satisfaction, then took the dastardly contraption, held it in one hand, and held my arm down with the other. I struggled. I tried to move, but his grip was too strong. I turned my head away from the needle quickly, not able to look at it, bracing myself for its pointy little head to pick its way into my skin. I shut my eyes tightly, in an effort to further ready myself for the attack. Nothing happened for a few moments. I relaxed slightly. However, then I felt the needled sharp point graze my skin, looking, searching for the right spot-for a vein. The monster punched its way through my skin, sliding through with its mocking pain. The red liquid was then released into my arm.

My vision began to blur, and everything turned funky colors. Oh the colors! Despite the rainbow effects, I still heard laughter--maniacal laughter of a thus maniacal man. The laughter echoed, then subdued and faded away, along with the trippy colors-except for red. My drug induced visions blurred and swirled around in front of my eyes until I ended up in an entire different place. I could move, just not wonderfully well, and this time everything was red. The room appeared to be one large funhouse mirror. Anything I saw was distorted. However, now I was confused. Had the white room even existed? It had to, logically of course, but how much of this was turning out to be logical? I "walked" around the red room, bumping into the walls quite often, not able to find a way out before the lights were suddenly cut off.

* * * * * *

When I woke up, I was back in the white room, still strapped to the cold metal bed. My head throbbed and my nausea was becoming overwhelming. The sound of footsteps entered the room. Not again, I thought. My vision was fading, so I was having a hard time focusing on whoever was in the room. I closed my eyes to avoid showing the fear in them. I braced myself for another attack, but instead felt the tight straps holding me down loosen up and slack off.

"I've decided to take you up on your offer, Noah, and I'm taking you with me," Kristine declared in her rich voice.

I sighed in relief. "You mean..."

"Yes, we're leaving," she answered. "Can you walk?"

I shrugged. "No idea."

"Let's find out then." I felt hands wrap around my arms. Strangely, they didn't feel as delicate as I had first seen them. My body was lifted up as Kristine placed me on my feet. She then set my arm around her shoulders and led me toward the door. I was walking perfectly fine, but my vision increasingly worsened.

"Kristine, just so you know, my sight isn't exactly the perfect 20/20 it used to be," I warned.

She leaned in close to my ear-so close I could feel her hot breath on it. "There are ways of getting around that, my dear Noah." There was that dear thing again!

All of a sudden, my head began to throb so violently, increasing in pain so quickly, that I fell to my knees, clutching my head, trying to make it stop. I could feel my brain pulsating inside my skull, bloating up and retracting over and over again. I choked back screams fighting to come out, biting my tongue to keep my mouth shut-slightly proud that I was able to control something. Kristine's hands found their way around my shoulders. "Noah?"

I nodded at her slowly, trying to reassure her. "I'm fine; just a little headache." What a lie, even if the pain was beginning to subside. I tried to stand again, my attempts futile. Kristine got the cue and helped me up.

"How do you plan to get out of here?" I asked.

"Like this," she answered, her voice much deeper. Crazed laughter. I am such a gullible twit!

"What in the hell?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

Still laughter. "Noah, you stupid ignoramus! Kristine doesn't exist. She did, years ago, before she sadly passed away from complications from the drugs we gave her."

"But..."

Sirens blared out, obnoxiously interrupting my thought, making my head want to explode. Again laughter. "You poor pathetic fool!"

"Wait. Aren't you a mutant too?"

"A superior human, yes. A freak like you? Absolutely not! You're the kind of freak that give mutants a bad name!" the man growled. I heard a small click behind me, then what seemed like a sudden clap of thunder. A small sharp bullet quickly forced its way into my skin, then another, and finally another. Sharp blinding pain followed. I fell to the ground, bleeding.

"I hope you like it in hell, you blue-skinned freak!" he yelled. I should have known the "dear" was too good to be true. The pain from my wounds spread over my body like a plague. Blood soaked the ground, pouring from the shot wounds. I coughed and more acidy red liquid gushed out. Before the so-called "icy-finger of death" grabbed me, the evil man's insane laughter still rang in my ears.

"You give mutants a bad name, freak!"

"I hope I'll see you in hell. I'll put in a good word for you, Jerk," I muttered. I had always wondered why death had been given an "icy-finger" I wasn't cold. Not anymore.

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