"Sand" - Kitty Pryde
A two-fold challenge piece. I wrote this for 15minuteficlets's current challenge on the word "Inside". I'm not sure it quite worked, but this was what came out of the prompt. I'm also offering this up to koshkaphoenix for her "Make Someone Feel Good" day since I know she likes Kitty. Slight spoilers for Astonishing X-Men #4.
Phasing isn't as simple as it looks. I learned to conquer my fears early. There's always a danger, the slimmest chance of losing your control, so you have to be absolutely confident in what you're doing. I was always afraid I would get stuck halfway through a wall, half in and half out.
My teacher Ororo tried her hardest to help. I hated some of her visualization exercises. "Picture yourself as a cloud or gas, moving undisturbed through a room." Try as I might, I could never get that exercise to work. I couldn't think of myself as a cloud. I was just me.
But Ororo was infinitely patient. "Everyone learns in different ways. You'll get it eventually, kitten."
To take our minds off training, Ororo took me to the beach that summer. Ororo was telling me about wandering across the Sahara desert, searching for her own identity. All the while she'd be playing the sand around us. She'd pick up a handful of sand and watch it disintegrate under her fingers. Or she'd squeeze it tightly together until the sand created a small ball.
I suddenly understood what she was trying to teach me, if perhaps using the wrong analogy. Sand was both porous and solid, like me. I pictured myself as finely grained sand, slipping through someone's grasp.
Sometimes the old fears come back. I have to force myself to concentrate on the mission at hand. Metal still feels different than stone. I can't describe that feeling in words, colder and less alive. The metal I passed through in that lab felt so strange. That layer never seemed to end, nearly a hundred feet thick.
There are worse things than being stuck halfway in a wall, but I try not to think about them. Not for long.
Phasing isn't as simple as it looks. I learned to conquer my fears early. There's always a danger, the slimmest chance of losing your control, so you have to be absolutely confident in what you're doing. I was always afraid I would get stuck halfway through a wall, half in and half out.
My teacher Ororo tried her hardest to help. I hated some of her visualization exercises. "Picture yourself as a cloud or gas, moving undisturbed through a room." Try as I might, I could never get that exercise to work. I couldn't think of myself as a cloud. I was just me.
But Ororo was infinitely patient. "Everyone learns in different ways. You'll get it eventually, kitten."
To take our minds off training, Ororo took me to the beach that summer. Ororo was telling me about wandering across the Sahara desert, searching for her own identity. All the while she'd be playing the sand around us. She'd pick up a handful of sand and watch it disintegrate under her fingers. Or she'd squeeze it tightly together until the sand created a small ball.
I suddenly understood what she was trying to teach me, if perhaps using the wrong analogy. Sand was both porous and solid, like me. I pictured myself as finely grained sand, slipping through someone's grasp.
Sometimes the old fears come back. I have to force myself to concentrate on the mission at hand. Metal still feels different than stone. I can't describe that feeling in words, colder and less alive. The metal I passed through in that lab felt so strange. That layer never seemed to end, nearly a hundred feet thick.
There are worse things than being stuck halfway in a wall, but I try not to think about them. Not for long.