Isabel was six years old when she discovered she was a mutant.

She was at school at the time, outside with the rest of the kids for recess after lunch. She also happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and things began to spiral from there.

She wasn't the victim of a malicious attack. She had simply fallen into the line of fire belonging to another young student who hadn't really meant to hurt anyone. She'd been struck just above her right temple with a rock just big enough to fit into a small fist. The young boy had picked it up and tossed it, as children are likely to do at some point in their lifetime, and had accidentally ended up hitting another student in the process. It had not been his intention to do so, and his mother's warning about such things suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Isabel's face must have struck some of the other kids as comical as the impact made her stop dead in her tracks. A sort of deer-in-the-headlights look. Maybe some of them just didn't like her and they thought it was amusing that she'd be hit. Others probably didn't know what was going on and simply found the laughter contagious.

The giggling that bubbled up from the small group was quickly hushed, though, when a line of red wormed its way down the side of Isabel's cheek. Someone went for the teacher on duty. The little boy who had thrown the rock was trying very hard not to start crying. Boys didn't cry.

Isabel's hand went to her head as the small cut began to sting with more intensity as seconds ticked by. Her fingers and her palm came way red, the thin line on her face a messy smear. Her eyes welled up as she started to cry, partially because she hurt, and partly because the color on her hand startled her, as had the crack that had sounded when the rock had struck her skull. She couldn't remember ever bleeding so much before.

Somewhere else in her body she felt something crack. It was small, and she almost hadn't noticed it. The kids around her all looked very on edge, and the two or three that had rushed off to fetch a teacher was worrying, particularly when she was able to spot said teacher and the older woman's expression changed to that of alarmed.

The second crack that came from her own body was more audible and the third was the one to finally catch her attention. The kids that were still lingering in a loose semi-circle began to look even more alarmed than their overseer had.

In her panic, her body's natural and primal instinct to protect itself had kicked into overdrive and as a result her X-gene had ceased to lie dormant. Her skeleton was shifting beneath her skin without her understanding what was happening, that lack of comprehension only adding fuel to the fire.

In the end, she was left in a blur of panic and confusion, her clothing ruined by various, uneven spikes of bone jutting from her body at random.

Isabel had been carefully escorted to the nurse's office. The woman that had been overseeing recess had only managed to take hold of her fingertips in order to lead her where she needed to go. There were just too many sharp objects protruding from her skin to safely get a grip on her hand or her arm. The woman had needed to calm the young girl with a lot of cooing and reassuring words before she'd even managed to gain her fingers. She hadn't been able to reach them without having the hand extended toward her.

Isabel sat on the plain, stiff bed that sat along one wall of the nurse's office. There was a desk in the corner and a small bathroom by the door at the front-most part of the room.. The Principal's office was connected to the small room through another door by the desk. The nurse has been hurrying back and forth between the two rooms, distractedly offering reassuring words as she went. They were attempting to get in contact with her parents.

The newly discovered mutant was much calmer now. She had been given a pad of gauze to hold against her head since no one else was comfortable with having to rest their hands against he sharp protrusions surrounding the injured flesh. It didn't bother Isabel. They didn't hurt.

It had been explained to her that head injuries bled a lot, even when they were very small. She'd even been offered a mirror to see for herself, though only when the blood had been cleaned up as much as possible. The woman had been right. The rock that she'd walked into had left a very small cut, possibly no wider across than a dime and not very deep.

The spikes covering her body has slowly begun to recede with her panic. It seemed to have been a defense mechanism that had been triggered and as the sense of danger had dissipated, the reaction was no longer necessary. The retraction of the spines was slow, however, as her body was still getting used to its newest development and at the current point in time she had no control over how it worked. Her body would just have to fix itself.

The way her skeletal structure jerked and twisted at times as the spines disappeared and merged back into her system was slightly alarming at first, which only served to slow down the whole process. However, alarm turned to interest and then soon to glee as she observed this new thing she was able to do.

She had taken it upon herself to deduce that she was different from the other kids. She'd never seen anyone do what she could do. And at her level of education, teachers were still putting an emphasis on how good it was to be different and to be an individual. Different meant special and talented and was to be accepted by everyone. She was certainly different and special and talented.

Her parents would be so pleased!

It had taken longer to get in touch with Isabel's parents than the Principle was pleased with. Her mother seemed to be the stay at home mom kind of woman and it hadn't been too difficult contacting the woman. From there, however, there seemed to have been an irritating game of phone tag the pair an the father had become involved in. Since his wife didn't work, her father worked long hours in a business office and turned out to be rather difficult to reach. It had been even harder convincing him to leave work early in order to meet up with his wife and come down to the school together. It was an emergency, it had been explained, and they really did have to come down and see things for themselves.

Isabel felt like she'd been waiting in the nurse's office forever. Recess was long over and then end of the school day was creeping closer. She was worried she'd miss the bus home, even though it had become evident that her parents would be coming to see her. She'd prefer to ride home on the bus than to stay longer than was necessary. It wasn't last period just yet, but sitting mostly by herself and waiting made it seem like the day should have been over a long time ago.

When her parents finally did show up, they visited the principle's office first, where the emergency involving their daughter was explained to them in hushed tones. The nurse continually poked her head through the doorway as if to make sure that the little girl hadn't taken off or ended up destroying something. They'd have to repair the sheet and stiff mattress on the bed as it was with all those little holes poked in them, they didn't need to be spending even more money to fix something that shouldn't have been touched.

Her mother and father were escorted through the doorway connecting the two offices when something in the other room had been decided and they were permitted to collect their child. Isabel had a little difficulty getting down from the bed in order to greet them. She kept getting snagged by the small spines that hadn't yet receded. She was smiling all the while, however, awaiting the praise her parents would give her for being so different and special and talented.

She had to remember that she couldn't run over and hug either of them yet, so she had to settle for standing in front of them for the time being. It took even longer to realize that neither of her parents were smiling like she was.

Her father had his arm wrapped firmly around her mother's shoulders, as if to root her to the spot and prevent her from escaping back into the main office. He had always been a rather quiet man, only speaking when he thought it was necessary and rarely sharing smiles with anyone. It was not so unusual to see a serious expression on his face, however the grim look he wore was somehow unsettling.

Her mother looked very pale and almost queasy. Her eyes were kind of red, too, like she had been crying or was trying not to do so. She was definitely the more outspoken of the pair, always ready to entertain and to show off her little girl to the guests that filled the house on the weekends and occasional weeknight. Now she was looking at the girl like she was something foreign and frightening, rather than her daughter.

Her smile faded. Maybe Isabel wasn't so different and special and talented. She wondered if she had done something wrong.

It was soon made clear that Isabel would not be going back to school. This was, of course, welcome news to any child and she delighted in the thrill of skipping out on classes she would normally have been required to sit through. It was just like being home sick, only she felt fine and could enjoy her free hours. It had not been explained to her that she was not going back to school because she was no longer allowed on the premises.

The principal had deemed her a danger to the students and faculty even though she hadn't done anything malicious. It was only a matter of time, the woman had said, before the situation escalated and someone got hurt. They were lucky they'd been able to get her safely into the office without any harm coming to the woman that had brought her there. She was also accused of destroying property and that they were unwilling to risk the chance of it happening again.

Her father had gone to work as usual, but had agreed to put in for a vacation for the following week after much persuading from his wife. There was something wrong with their daughter and they needed to address the problem as soon as possible, she had insisted. There was no time to ignore the situation. What if it got worse? They had to make a doctor's appointment. They had to see if something could be done.

The appointment had been set for a Saturday morning, much to her father's displeasure. He could have continued working in that case, but he kept quiet on the matter. He didn't exactly enjoy being berated by his wife over such matters. It was best not to upset her any more than she already was. She was hardly sleeping as it was and she was acting very strange around her daughter, treating the girl as if she was terminally ill and that too much contact could prove contagious and her mutation would spread to the rest of the family.

Isabel hated the doctor's office. She only ever remembered the visits where she was stuck with one or more needles to protect against whatever sickness was in season. She also remembered the sterile smell and the screaming of bratty children and infants and she hated that, too. She just knew she'd get stuck with more needles this time, too. Her parents were treating her like she was ill, and doctors always tried to fix sick people with injections.

She protested the necessity of a doctor's visit, falling into a deep sulk during the few days before the appointment date. Her temper did nothing to sway her parents.

Isabel wandered around the waiting room making a general pest of herself. Audibly dragging her feet, picking up things and putting them down or dropping them, sighing loudly every few minutes and climbing on and off the chair she'd been told to sit in. She heeded her mother when she was told to stop doing something, but only for a short moment or in favor of finding something else annoying to do. They could make her go to the doctor, but they couldn't make her enjoy it or be patient.

Finally her mother's name was called and the trio followed the nurse into one of the examination rooms. All the regular test were run before the doctor would be called in. They checked her pulse and her blood pressure, her reflexes and her eyesight, recorded her height and weight and then left her sitting on the exam table kicking her feet as her parents stood awkwardly off to one side while they waited for the doctor to replace the nurse.

As soon as the door opened and the bodies swapped, her mother nearly jumped the poor young woman, assaulting her with a barrage of questions and concerns in such a rush that Isabel hardly understood what was being said. Her father had to take hold of her mother's shoulders and gently pull her back to give the doctor some space, keeping her in place with one arm, much like he had done back at the school.

The young woman, Dr. Miller, made some reassuring sound as she quickly skimmed the paperwork that Isabel's information had been jotted down on during the nurse's examination. She looked perfectly healthy, the woman said. No apparent abnormalities recorded, nor seen just by looking at the girl.

Her mother protested, of course, once again explaining the problem that had happened at school and having Isabel confirm the details. She still felt like she might have done something bad, but she also couldn't quite shake her initial pride in discovering her new ability. She hadn't been able to do anything else with it since the episode at school, but she was sure she'd learn how to do it again if she kept trying.

It was explained, in simple terms so Isabel could follow along, that the young girl was a mutant and her mutation had simply manifested earlier than most individuals' did. Puberty was generally the trigger for the X-gene, but not everyone followed that rule. Much to her mothers distress, she was told that there was no cure and reassured several times throughout the visit, as she kept asking. No, there was no cure. No, technically there was nothing wrong with her daughter. No, it wasn't contagious. Yes, the 'symptoms' would return as Isabel continued to grow and gain control over her mutation.

Dr. Miller gave her mother some advice about what could be done to cope with the situation, as well as several names of people that she could talk to, as she seemed to be taking the news rather poorly. She was assured that their quality of life wouldn't change as long as they handled Isabel's growth properly and an emphasis on learning control was always in place.

Isabel thought her mother would be pleased. She wasn't sick. She wasn't going to die or anything. Everything could go back to normal, just like the doctor had said. She didn't realize that her mother was already beginning to grieve for a lost daughter, one she hadn't even lost.

She was also grieving the loss of her own lifestyle even though she had been told nothing would change. How could she explain such a thing to her friends and family? How could she allow people into her home knowing there was an abnormality roaming the halls? She would do her best to postpone the news and make up excuses for canceled get togethers. She would learn to live with the loss of the daughter she'd prided herself in showing off to everyone, and she would be sure her husband did the same.

The doctor had been wrong. She would have to find a way to make things right for herself and her husband somehow. Their lives had changed completely. There was no cure for her daughter. The little girl that she had raised thus far was gone and replaced by something strange and unknown. Something unnatural.

Nothing was going to be the same.