And then, trouble started coming at me like big dark swarms of swamp mosquitos. I hate those.

It was the last class of the day, P.E. Guys were playing soccer, girls were playing voleyball. My team was leading, 14 to 3. Nothing unusual about that. And suddenly I heard a scream coming from the soccer court. All girls rushed to see, me first in line. I managed to squeeze between two huge guys from my class, only to see Daniel, my latest crush, laying on the ground and clutching at his leg. From what I could put together, he had broken his leg. Or, at least he thought so. I crouched next to him, and he took my hand. I guess I blushed a little. Anyway, I said something really smart, like, "Don't worry, it's gonna be OK. Let me see that." And I touched his leg.

Touching his leg is the last thing I can remember. After that, there is a flash, and then a big blank that ends up with waking up in the school infirmery with a terrible headache. And Daniel walking in, asking if I'm all right, telling me that his leg's fine and asking me out for lunch tomorrow, seeing as tomorrow was the first day of the spring holiday. I said, OK, and that was that. Daniel walked me home, and everything was OK with the world.

Or at least I thought so.

I spent the rest of the day watching TV, going out roller-skating (I'm really good, you should see me!) and generally having a great time. That, until one of my friends suddenly stared at me oddly, jaw hanging. And he went like, "Dude, your eyes."

I glared in a car rearview. And I did not like the least what I saw.

My eyes.

They were turning blue.

No, not the iris. The iris was still the good, old dark blue I knew all-too-well.

It was the cornea that had me worried. No, that freaked me out of my minds.

Because now it was all light blue, and I couldn't do a thing about it. My frieds were all staring at me by now, so I did the smartest thing I could've done. I put on my shades and I zipped home, ignoring the amazed exclamations of my friends. And yes, I did run out of breath after five minutes or so, and my house was still very far away.

Finally, exhausted, on the verge of tears, I got home and immediately rushed to my room and to the mirror. This was just a bad dream... yup, a bad... oh no.

My eyes were looking even worse now, the light tint of blue glowing faintly. Wow, my eyes glow, I must've been nuked or something. Damn russians, was the last thought that went through my mind before I passed out, for the second time that day.

I woke up when somebody knocked hard on my door. "I don't wanna go to school", I said out of instinct, before realizing I was laying on the floor and I was still wearing my skating gears, rollerblades included. "Uh... just a minute", I said groggily.

"There's a strange dude here to see you", my crazed hippie brother announced before heading away. I could've bet my life that he shrugged the whole thing off, like he usually did.

First things first. Loose the skates. And the kneeguards. And the other crap. Stuff everything under the bed. Take a look in the mirror... yes, my eyes were still all blue and glowing. Put some shades on. Go downstairs.

The first thing that hit me when I got downstairs was cigarr smoke. Dense one, too. I coughed. That's when everyone noticed I was there.

My parents were sitting on the couch. In front of them, sitting in my fave armchair (Hey, get outta there!), was... someone. I was guessing this was the dude Rich (my brother) was talking about. Well-built, dark hair, jeans, a shirt. Nothing unusual about him.

"Hi, you must be Elsie."

Wow, the guy knows my name. Quickly, find something smart to say... "Oh... yeah."

Mental slap to the forehead. That was lame.

"I'm Logan."

Yeah. Hi, Logan. "Nice to meet you." Not. I hate meeting new people.

"Honey, sit down for a second."

Nothing better than that, my feet are killing me.

"Mr. Logan here is from the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. He believes you posses special abilities." Wow. Since when does my mum talk like that?

"Uh... yeah."

I seem to have a predilection for this phrase.

Logan takes point. "Tell me, did anything strange happen to you lately?"

Yeah, my eyes glow and I faint when I touch tall handsome guys with broken legs. "Um... no, why would anything strange happen to me?"

"Yeah? Well then, why don't you show us your eyes."

Rats. Rats, rats and rats again. "I... I have an eye condition."

"Sure you do."

"Elsa honey, show him your eyes." Rats. Thanks a lot, dad.

"No." Oh crap. I shouldn't have said that. "I mean..." *sigh* Why me?

I take off my glasses, but keep my eyes closed. "Happy?"

"Open your eyes."

Well, here goes nothing. Goodbye, cruel world. I open my eyes. My parents loose their jaws. Logan smirks. Damn, why don't I have a machine gun right now? I'd wipe that smirk off his face! Ooh, yeah.

To cut a long story short, my parents decided to send me to this Institute where I could learn to control my gifts. That means, away from home. Logan thinks that I have healing abilities, but that drains me whenever I try. And he thinks I may have other abilities. Welp, that's his oppinion and I respect it. So, pack my bags, hug my parents, give Rich a noogie, remind myself to send Daniel an e-mail later, toss my bags into an attachment on Logan's motorcycle, hug my parents again, give Rich another noogie, watch Logan... wait, Mister Logan, shake hands with my parents, hop onto the motorcycle and hold on for dear life as the maniac speeds off. Next stop, the Xavier Institute for Gifted... wait, I already forgot the name.

Oh yeah. I can't wait.