Monday afternoon: Letter from home
Rogue looks much better after she steps out of the shower. Her mail is sitting on her bed. One's a letter from Alex at the Mansion; she smiles as she thinks of the boy who worships the ground she walks on. The other letter is from her sister Sara at home.
Dear Marie,
I hate to write to tell you only bad things, but that's all I have right now. Ellie's getting married to that bastard Steve. She's pregnant, and Mom and Papí are fighting about it. You know Papí, he's really old-fashioned, and doesn't want to let her get married at the church. Mom tells him he's being a self-righteous jerk, and is only worried about what the rest of the parish will think. She's talked to the pastor of the Methodist church, and he's willing to do the ceremony if Papí won't let Father Kenneth do it. It's a big mess, and it's tearing Ellie up. She wants to just elope, but Papí would disown her if she did that.
Abuelita is getting sicker. She can't remember things, and she asks about her baby Maria all the time now. Papí yells at her when she does, but Mom just cries. I know they all still think about you and love you, but they refuse to talk about you. If Papí knew I was writing to you, he'd throw a fit.
Marie, I know you're gonna be fine up there. If I wasn't so scared of losing Ellie and Junior, I'd hitch to New York to see that Professor of yours. Maybe he could help me make my powers stronger.
Love always,
Sara
There are tears in her eyes when Rogue finishes reading the letter. She pulls out her paper journal and starts to write.
I HATE my father. He's such a close-minded idiotic jerk. This the last straw.
For seventeen years I've been the good girl, the good daughter, never in trouble, always 'yes ma'am' 'yes sir,' and I'm still the outcast. I've been so afraid of what people might think of me that I never took the time to actually be myself, and because of that, I lost what could have been one of the greatest things I could have had.
So, fuck it. I'm done being the good girl. I'm done caring what people think. They're always going to think I'm weird. I've been the dirty Mexican (even though we're SPANISH people!), the runaway, the anti-social one, the girl with the weird hair and gloves, and the untouchable mutant. I'm sick to death of it. I'm not going to worry one bit about what other people think of me anymore. I never should have. Momma always said that Williams women don't need anyone else to validate them, and that's how I'm going to live my life from now on. I'm sick of being the good D'Ancanto daughter. Bad girls have more fun, anyhow.
She shuts the book and slams it away in a drawer. This is the end of good girl Marie, and the birth of bad girl Rogue. And her father has only himself to blame.
She notices the envelope Belthazor left this morning, and moves it to Phoebe's bed, where she's sure to see it when she gets back.
Dear Marie,
I hate to write to tell you only bad things, but that's all I have right now. Ellie's getting married to that bastard Steve. She's pregnant, and Mom and Papí are fighting about it. You know Papí, he's really old-fashioned, and doesn't want to let her get married at the church. Mom tells him he's being a self-righteous jerk, and is only worried about what the rest of the parish will think. She's talked to the pastor of the Methodist church, and he's willing to do the ceremony if Papí won't let Father Kenneth do it. It's a big mess, and it's tearing Ellie up. She wants to just elope, but Papí would disown her if she did that.
Abuelita is getting sicker. She can't remember things, and she asks about her baby Maria all the time now. Papí yells at her when she does, but Mom just cries. I know they all still think about you and love you, but they refuse to talk about you. If Papí knew I was writing to you, he'd throw a fit.
Marie, I know you're gonna be fine up there. If I wasn't so scared of losing Ellie and Junior, I'd hitch to New York to see that Professor of yours. Maybe he could help me make my powers stronger.
Love always,
Sara
There are tears in her eyes when Rogue finishes reading the letter. She pulls out her paper journal and starts to write.
I HATE my father. He's such a close-minded idiotic jerk. This the last straw.
For seventeen years I've been the good girl, the good daughter, never in trouble, always 'yes ma'am' 'yes sir,' and I'm still the outcast. I've been so afraid of what people might think of me that I never took the time to actually be myself, and because of that, I lost what could have been one of the greatest things I could have had.
So, fuck it. I'm done being the good girl. I'm done caring what people think. They're always going to think I'm weird. I've been the dirty Mexican (even though we're SPANISH people!), the runaway, the anti-social one, the girl with the weird hair and gloves, and the untouchable mutant. I'm sick to death of it. I'm not going to worry one bit about what other people think of me anymore. I never should have. Momma always said that Williams women don't need anyone else to validate them, and that's how I'm going to live my life from now on. I'm sick of being the good D'Ancanto daughter. Bad girls have more fun, anyhow.
She shuts the book and slams it away in a drawer. This is the end of good girl Marie, and the birth of bad girl Rogue. And her father has only himself to blame.
She notices the envelope Belthazor left this morning, and moves it to Phoebe's bed, where she's sure to see it when she gets back.