From Jean Grey's journal ( Read more... )

Jean had never been more miserable in her entire life. She'd wished for the one thing that she thought would make her happiest, and in some odd cosmic twist of fate, her wish was granted. And had destroyed the life of the one person that she loved above all others. Who she had only wished for more time with. It was her fault, and it wasn't her ( Read more... )

Jean stared out her window. Let her mind tick over all the people she had known. How many versions of them she had seen. There were so many things that she should tell them. So many things she should say. And so she would. Moving from the window, she sat down in front of her desk. Where she had sat so many times before. Pulling out paper, she ( Read more... )

What would she tell herself if she could write a letter to the child that she had been? For a brief moment the lyrics of a song filtered through her mind. "For an instant, I forgot myself; that allowed me to write this song. For an instant, I turned my mirror away; that allowed me to see myself as I truly am. I lost time, but I gained time. I need ( Read more... )

When she was a little girl, she had hated mornings. She prefered the night. Would sit out on the roof and watch the stars until dawn whenever she had the chance. And then her mother would come in and start the day with yelling and grabbing her by the arm to drag her out of bed. Then a tense family breakfast. Her father reading the newspaper, and ( Read more... )

Jean remembers going boating with her father. And that is what she's thinking of now. Sitting out on the dock of Xavier's school. There are none present here, but in her mind, she can see them clearly. She remembers how excited she was, just a little girl, not older then seven. How it was going to be just the two of them. Her mother would not lower ( Read more... )

Jean sat in front of her desk. The same place she used to sit when she wanted to write in her journal. For this place, this room, this life, she had only been gone for a few days. For herself, in her mind and soul, she knew it had been much longer. She writes ( Read more... )

Jean stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the waiting towel. It was an odd feeling to be back in her attic room in the mansion again. It felt like forever since she'd been there, for her it was another lifetime ago. She studied herself in the mirror, remembering what her reflection had been the last time she had faced this same mirror ( Read more... )

Jean had finished speaking to Scott a few hours ago, but not for one second had his words left her mind. Nor Emma's from earlier. Feeling restless, she walked outside of the mansion and wandered towards the wooded area near the back of the property. In this reality there was no swing for the children to play on, nor the tree house some of the older ( Read more... )

It was early enough in the morning that no one would be awake. Too early for theearly risers, like Scott. But too late for the night owls, like Jones. Jean slipped downstairs silently, like she'd done for years. She was wrapped in a robe with a towel tucked under her arm. She padded across the hall and into the library. After opening the french ( Read more... )