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Posted by "Chief" on Aug 17, 2016 13:59:43 GMT -6
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Apr 25, 2024 23:17:11 GMT -6
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24 June 2016
Jack was at a diner when the news broke. A corner booth, with high seat-backs huge tables. At this hour, Jack shared the dining area with only a scant few patrons. She was a regular here, so the wait-staff spared her the strange looks that she typically received at other places.
Jack was in the midst of a mushroom-swiss burger when the garbled chatter of the t.v.’s all synced to one voice.
“We interrupt your scheduled programming to bring you a CNN news alert—“
Jack had been in her own thoughts when the broadcast interjected, but the sudden unison of the t.v.’s—which had previously all been dialed to different channels—tugged at her attention. The prawn lifted her head.
“Tragedy struck just moments ago in Odessa, Texas, where an explosive was detonated inside of a shelter for mutants…”
The burger was lowered to the plate. The prawn fell still. Eyes unblinking. Fixed. The camera panned over a nondescript building, the shelter, emergency vehicles parked haphazardly half-onto curbs and in an adjacent parking lot, lights flashing.
“Authorities have not been able to fully assess the situation but early estimates put the death toll well above 20 already, with over 50 likely to be injured…”
Again the camera circled from the overhead view, tiny personnel carrying a stretcher to a waiting ambulance, a frenzy. A pit was growing in the prawn’s chest, throat tightening. An involuntary whine escaped her throat.
“We have just received word that the majority of those residing in the shelter at the time were children who had been kicked out of their own homes.”
Her heart shuddered, a muscle tensed in her jaw.
“I believe I speak for the entire nation when I say that the horrors we are witnessing are truly unimaginable.”
Not unimaginable. The human-mutant relation, as a whole, had always been sh*t. There were just moments of uneventful-ness that lulled people into a false sense of security. That was the way of the world. Jack nudged her plate away. She wasn’t hungry, anymore. It could’ve been anywhere. Odessa, Texas. Xavier’s. Same difference. The thought made her weak.
“As more news of the situation arrives we will keep you informed, but until then our prayers go out to those affected by this Mutant Massacre.”
Distance was irrelevant when it came to acts of terror such as this. Attack one shelter or school and ripples of it would be felt throughout the mutant community. For those whose own families disowned and rejected them, your family became those who shared the same X-gene. You could never know another mutant and they were still your brother or your sister. Lineage had nothing to do with it.
Jack would nurse her soda and fries for a few more minutes, trying to muster the inclination to stay and finish her meal, but nothing could fill that growing pit in her stomach, the dread and hurt that was so easily unearthed by a singular, horrible incident.
The prawn ultimately admitted defeat, abandoning the rest of her meal to go pay her tab at the front desk, before setting-off into the humid outdoors. An uncharacteristic chill chased her out of the restaurant, and remained on her shoulders for the remainder of the day.
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