heh I saw the most recent Xmen movie and can't get this plot out of my mind. Promise I'll get back to my other fics!

And since I live in America, I pretty much set all my fics there since I wouldn't want to write anything wrong about other cultures. So FYI that is where this story is set.

"Goodbye Miss Sakura! I'll see you on monday!" a brunette boy said with a slight blush, watching his classmate walk away from the room and on her way to her apartment. She turned around and shot him a sincere smile and a short "you too!" before going back to her path.

The girl adjusted the bag hanging over her right shoulder, heavy with medical textbooks. She was 22 years old, and halfway through medical school due to an early graduation from high school. Her blonde hair reached the small of her back, and her pale green eyes shone brightly at the thought of going back to her cozy room to study in peace. Medicine was her passion, and it showed from how dedicated she was to her studies.

As she reached the sidewalk outside the academic building, still half a mile away from her apartment, she noticed the teacher's assistant from her dissecting class walking pass her. In attempts to be friendly, she waved, though he didn't look over, making her immediately feel a little awkward. Unfortunately, this distracted her from her path, and she didn't she a large branch on the ground in front of her. She fell to the ground quite hard, and she could feel the skin of her knees and arms scrape harshly, blood trickling out quickly as she picked herself up. She winced as the teacher's assistant came over, having obviously noticed her tumble. Kabuto, wasn't it?

Shit. Please let him not check my wounds…please make him pass by….

"Are you okay?"

I need to leave. Now.

As seconds passed, Sakura knew she had to go away before he saw anything. But nevertheless, fate wasn't on her side. By the time he grabbed one of her arms to assess the wound, there was no mark whatsoever, only a smear of blood over her smooth, uninjured skin.

Sakura avoided eye contact.

"Well you seem to be alright," he said after a moment's hesitation, glancing at the other places that should've been damaged.

"Yes. I'm lucky nothing got hurt!" she stammered out nervously. "And I'm in a hurry, so if you don't mind-"

She scrambled away as covertly as possible, not saying another word, and definitely dreading her class with him once Monday came around.

By the time she had made it back to her apartment, she felt a lot better about the incident. He didn't seem to see anything. A wave of relief washed over her. She collapsed upon her bed, sighing loudly. Her roommate was away for the weekend, so she had the room to herself. Not that she did anything wild or ever had anybody over, but the quiet was very relaxing. After a few minutes, she picked up her bag from the floor, pulling out her textbooks and placing them next to the typewriter on her desk.

Stretching her back, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed an apple from inside. She seemed to always be famished, even though she was quite skinny. She always concluded that it was because she went jogging a few miles every morning.

Absentmindedly, she wondered if she should try to go out tonight. Then again, alcohol was hard to come by ever since the 18th amendment had been established three years ago, and she had never been able to get drunk before. The one time she tried, she gave up after ten drinks since she never felt the alcohol's effect.

Once she finished her snack, she stripped off the dress she was wearing in order to take a shower.

Make that a long shower.

And since she was very tired from the day's events, immediately after coming out of the shower, she dried herself off, put on her cozy pajamas, and got in bed. It didn't take her long to fall asleep.

Blinding pain.

She awoke to the worst pain she had ever felt in her life, and to make things worse, she couldn't see a single thing since the room was black and her eyes hadn't adjusted.

Her abdomen felt warm, and she suddenly realized the wetness she felt was her own blood pooling onto the bed. Running her hand down to feel what had happened, her fingers brushed a large knife sticking deep inside her, causing instant panic and a strangled cry to come from her lips. Knowing what would come next, and not even thinking of the danger she might still be in, she nearly screamed as she pulled it out slowly, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

Thankfully she soon felt the familiar feeling of her insides stitching back together, her skin healing and the wound closing. It only took a few seconds for her to sigh in relief at her being fully healed.

"Just as I thought," a deep voice said quietly, startling her and making her blood run cold. Who could that—

"I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

The last thing she felt was a damp cloth covering her mouth, and no matter how she struggled, she felt herself slip into darkness.

She sat in the back corner of the café, scanning over a newspaper while occasionally taking a deep gulp of her black coffee.

Seeing the almost empty mug, a young waitress came over to refill it, giving a friendly smile to the pink-haired woman.

"It's refreshing to see someone who still reads newspapers," she commented cheerfully, the woman's eyes still focused on the paper before her. "The only way I stay updated is sometimes checking the news application on my phone."

The woman nodded. "Thanks for the coffee."

As the worker left, the woman allowed the tears she had been holding back to pool in her pale green eyes.

New Legislation Declares War on Mutants

Only a few months into office, the new Secretary of Defense has been very vocal on his stance on mutant affairs. In his most recent speech, he stated that "though some mutants are largely harmless, there is a great population that are extremely dangerous to our country. And these mutants will not self-report as required, but rather plot against us in a sick sense of 'mutant pride.' These are not citizens of any country. These are not humans. These are an alien race that needs to be destroyed before they destroy us first."

She couldn't continue reading. The remainder of the article had dozens of testimonies from influential politicians voicing their agreements, and it was better for her mood to just ignore it. Flipping a page, she gave herself a paper-cut on her left index finger, but she didn't even wince as it healed immediately.

Leaving money for her coffee on the table, she left the café, ignoring the "have a nice day" from the waitress and leaving as quickly as possible so she could brood over this recent political development back in her apartment.

The walk was long, but she didn't mind the darkness of the night. It was hard for her to sleep anyways.

A few blocks in, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Hey baby—you doin' anythin' tonight?"

She scoffed, ignoring the man.

He broke into a quick jog, pulling up next to her.

"I don't think you heard me," he hissed out. "I said, baby…you doin' anythin'?"

"Fuck off," she muttered.

He pulled her hair so that she faced him, and she couldn't help but laugh. This only caused him to get angrier, and he tried to push her roughly against the wall without warning.

However, even though he used all of his force, she didn't so much as move an inch.

"You really shouldn't pick on defenseless girls," she smiled, drawing her fist back to give him a solid punch. He went flying through a wall. "And my name isn't baby. It's Sakura."

Without so much a checking to see if he was alive, she continued home.

Lying in bed, Sakura tried to sleep, but her nightmares were back again. She briefly considered taking a few sleeping pills, but there was a slim chance that they would give her happy dreams. Maybe she should see a psychiatrist? Try to see if anti-depressants worked?

She closed her eyes, attempting a dreamless sleep.

Hundreds of needles stuck into her skin, all attached to tubes filled with some substance she did not recognize, even from the many medical textbooks she had read before. She wanted to scream, but her mouth stuffed with cloth, and the only way she could breath was the oxygen being pumped into her nostrils by two other tubes. Her eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for someone to save her, or even just to see who was doing this to her.

She was naked and cold, her limbs strapped down to the metal table by thick bands of the same material.

Suddenly—pain. Pain that she had never experienced in her life-pain that made her skin feel like it was being burned from her body pore by pore—pain that felt like her organs were being ripped apart and put back together again over and over.

She couldn't think—could barely breathe….was this really happening? Or was this a dream? What did she do to deserve this?

She awoke with a start, tears streaming down her face. Curling into fetal position on her bed, she sobbed loudly, her cries filling the silence of her room.

Coming up next:

The blonde woman gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I know the feeling. We've been watching you for awhile, and I think you'd be better off with an actual home."

idk if anyone would be interested in me writing more, but I have a lot of plot ideas if I end up continuing this. Review or message me if you have any comments/criticism!