So, this is my third story! Just hope this one continues for a long time. Enjoy!(:
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gakuen Alice. I am not genius enough to.

Chapter 1: Mother and Dad

There was a man who once told me 'It's not about where you come from, it's not about the journey, nor is it about where you end up. Just make sure along the way, you will always remember what's important. Never lose the reason of why you're doing what you've done.'

I've lived by those words. They lighted my path as I continue to walk it's unforeseen road. And while I do, I held the man's hand. His wisdom echoed and echoed in my mind with every step we took together. We faltered, but we stood back up. We doubted, but regained our trust. We sometimes grew uneven, but we eventually found our balance once more.

It was perfection. Bliss.

Too bad neither of these lasts forever.

I wasn't spoiled; maybe forever interprets it wrong. I expected my happiness to remain within the passing years. Possibly, at minimum, a hundred. It was no where close to forever, but it would suffice.

But I found out that those were just empty words. It's hard to keep heaven near you, especially when your hopes and dreams takes you to millions of places.

His took him far away home. Not a physical house; with furniture, kitchen and bedrooms. Home as in himself. Where he found comfort in. Where he would always come back to if he made too many mistakes. Where he knew I would be waiting. His dreams were far too big for him to contain. Though, he did so anyways. He forced himself to fulfill them. And therefore, braking the person he once was in the process. What he didn't know was that he broke me as well.

Happiness for me only lasted a disappointingly small time. And since it was so fun, it felt even shorter. It drove me away from resenting myself. I smiled a lot more back then than I rarely do now. So when my golden time ended, I fell into the darkness harder than I know I ever will in the future. I can recall him saying another phrase that also made me feel so, so wise.

'Once you've climbed you way to the top, there's no other way but to fumble straight down.'

What a long way the bottom was.

I am Sakura Mikan. A simple girl, with the biggest wish to be as normal as a fifteen year old could be.

It's not a dream; not like his. Because, you see, I already knew that I could never achieve it. No matter how much integrity I put into it.

The simple, plain truth of it all is that I can read minds. My Dad is one of the world's richest billionaires. And I have no Mother.

I wonder how much farther can God pull me away from the quiet life of an average human?

It all started, apparently, from the day I was born. I weighted six pounds and nine ounces. Normal. I cried when they cut my umbilical chord. I stopped when my Mother held me in her warm arms for the first time. I slightly smiled when she said "You're really, really beautiful, Mikan". It's not that I remember these happening; Mother often told me of the miracle of my birth.

We started our lives in an apartment in a small town in Michigan. It was okay, though it leaned more to being rundown than excellent. I didn't have anything to compare it with, it being my first home and all, so it was lovely to me, regardless of what others think. I attended Rosecopper Elementary school. It's one of those neighborhood schools, where only the people around know it existed. It stood on a corner and took about four blocks. It's not very big. But it was fun. If I can recall correctly, I was friends with almost anyone in my 2nd grade years. It didn't count as being popular because I'm pretty sure it's common that 2nd graders all get along well.

Dad worked in an office during the night, while Mother baked cupcakes during the day. Not for me, she ran a shop. It was pretty well known around the town because Mother's cupcakes were killer. And that fact caused everyone to think that she's an amazing cook.

Her blood flowing in my veins and all, I knew from the start that she was shockingly terrible with anything besides cupcakes.

That's why I didn't mind not seeing Mother during the day. For one, Dad can cook meals that don't send your tastebuds in a life-threatening roller coaster. Secondly, he was already enough. He would drop me off at school, and see me until I disappeared through it's gates, always yelling, "Have fun, baby!" He cleaned the house and help me with my homework and put me to sleep by reading a bedtime story. Though he looked ferociously manly and muscular, he had an unexpectedly maternal side to him.

As for Mother, she didn't miss me much either. She would always be home in time when Dad was beginning to read the last lines of the bedtime story. He would let her take over, and before I blacked out to a nice sleep, the angelic ring of her voice would fill my ears. That alone was able to make up all those times when she was't there for me. I loved her as much as I could for Dad.

So bottom line, I shared a splendid bond with my parents.

But as I said, perfection, bliss; none of those could last a very long time.

When I first found out about my special ability, I was in the middle of a 3rd grade test. I didn't get a chance to study for it the night before, so I was in a situation that I always seem to find myself in every time tests came up. But this one was different. Benchmark. It decides whether you have to take summer school or not. I couldn't, ever, be in that. Not this year. My parents and I were planning to take a two-week vacation at my Grandpa's house in Florida, who I haven't seen since I was three. It just so happens that summer school was starting at the last week of my vacation. Knowing my parents, they would choose my education over anything else.

So, there I sat, fussing out on the piece of paper which asked me questions that boggled my mind to no end. And then it happened.

Thoughts began to fill my head. The more they occupied into me, the more I slowly figured out they don't belong to me. Only because most of them were way too smart for me to think of. Some of them had answers to the test. Others were random and what most 3rd graders would think of.

In the end, I still failed the test. Even when success was laid out in front of me. But hey, I was nine, and I had no idea what was going on. Yeah, I had to take summer school. And yeah, we didn't get the chance to visit Grandpa in Florida.

After that, I experimented more, with my newly discovered talent. At first, I had no clue what it was, what to call it, nor did I know how to do it again. My young age and therefore, young imagination, pushed me to believing that I was some sort of an alien from galaxies away. But I was also in the stage of my youth where I started to watch movies. I came upon one where I finally made sure of my ability. There was this young boy who experienced the same things as me, asked the same questions as I did. It was called mind-reading. And according to the movie, the only way I could do it once more was to focus. But focus on what?

"Minds," an actor from the movie said to the boy. "People's minds. Animal's minds. This is a unique ability, Gunther. You could do anything and everything imaginable with it. You just have to focus on their minds; make yourself accept that you can read them as if they're a clear book. And before you know it, you're inside of their souls."

That was how I was able to master my skill. Well, not master, but train it. The first takeoff was rough. When I tried to read some lady's mind I found walking on the street, something blew up in my head and I immediately received a one-week migraine. I was scared to attempt it again. But ten days after my migraine was completely gone, I somehow found the courage to take another shot at it.

Mother and Dad turned out smooth. I was able to go into them and know whatever they knew. Maybe it's because I was familiar with them. I don't know. That was the only explanation I could come up with. So, I practiced on them. Mother didn't have to remind me to go brush my teeth, since used to always forgot. I would always suggest eating out before she could utter the words 'I'll', 'make', and 'dinner' in the same sentence. Dad didn't lose his train of thought anymore; I was there to put him back on. And it wasn't necessary to Dad to cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner by himself. With my newly found powers, I quickly caught up on what steps to take to make whatever dish he wanted to make.

Both of them had wondered where I learned to be such a good chef. I answered, "Chef exaggerates it. I just took after Dad."

I got a hard slap in the back of the head from Mother because of that.

By the time a year has passed, I had gotten good control of my mind-reading.

Two years; great.

Three; phenomenal.

Half a year after the third one; I hated it.

Practice was supposed to make things better. It's supposed to bring your abilities to a much more advanced stage.

It did. By the time I was twelve, I could read anyone, everyone; anything and everything. With just one touch, a person's past and future is revealed to me. Lie was a naked word in front of my eyes. Nothing could be hidden if it was trying to hide away from me. I knew the reality of it all.

And that's why I came to resent my power. Ironically, I had progressed to so far, that it grew up to be its own. Slowly and idly, but somewhat abruptly, mind-reading became hard to turn off and on. Sooner or later, it had been permanently stuck on the 'on' switch. It wouldn't bother be me that much if I was in a closed, un-populated closet; that'd be fine. But, unfortunately, I was a child approaching her teenage years. I had friends. I went to school, malls, restaurants, and church. I had a life. And I had to live it with other people. Hearing thousands of endless thoughts inside my head was no choice for me.

I was afraid to touch people. I was petrified to hug my best friends goodbye. If at least a centimeter if their molecules came in contact with my skin, I would see whatever hides behind their past and what awaits their future. This is definitely a curse, because sometimes kids have more to what than they seem.

Cody had been abused, physically and mentally, by his guardian sister. Robert, as well as Lilia, have been through the horror of seeing both their parents die in front of them. Lilia would lose her thumb a month from then.

And because of the unnatural actions my power forced me to take, my friends started to avoid me, one by one. They told me that I became more distant. That I sometimes looked at someone in a freaky way. How badly I wanted to tell them of my condition, and how I wished I didn't have it because by unintentionally seeing their secrets, I felt as if I had invaded their privacy. But I couldn't. I was scared. If they knew the validity of Mikan Sakura, I know they would steer away even more. They looked at me as if I was some some sort of alien from galaxies away. And unlike me, they would still continue to see that even if they saw the movie that started my nightmare.

Without my friends, this twisted life of mine got incredibly difficult to live though each day.

And little did I know, they weren't the only people I would be losing.

Mother and Dad knew about it as well. I had decided to tell them around the second year. At first, they refused to listen to me, and even suggested I go to the emergency room for I was not the kind of twelve-year old to make up such stories. But, they gradually came to accept it when I always blurted out whatever they were thinking. Like all the others, I was distressed about them knowing. I had many conflicts with myself about whether they should find out or not. But they were my flesh and blood parents. They would never leave me, for they would get arrested if they did anyways. But, above that, they loved me.

They were special, too. Although I couldn't not read their minds like others, nothing happened when I touched them. Hugged them. For some reason, they were the only ones in my life that nullified half of my abilities. When I found that out, I thanked the heavens and the stars for letting me feel the warmth of another human without anything occurring. Back then, it was the best thing that I could ever hope and dream for.

But that was back then.

One night, Mother closed the shop for the entire day and Dad went to work early. The home contained only her and I, for the first time ever since she owned her bakery. It felt so peaceful with her there. When I finished homework with her help, we lounged back in the couch while Lion King was on. She made her oh-so-famous cupcakes, and I brewed my somewhat-as-famous hot chocolate.

We nuzzled together in the comforting darkness, enjoying each other's company that we had missed so much. I thought that nothing could ruin our moment.

Well, apparently, something did. And as soon as they barged in into our home without enough curtesy to knock, I discovered they were someone instead. They were men dressed, oddly enough, in white. They had no shades on, unlike the normal burglars, and they showed no effort to hide their faces. They wore suits that looked made them look like they belonged in the White House, instead of my mediocre home.

Mom screamed as the three of them entered the living room, barely leaving space with their buff bodies. One of them stalked up to us, threw the blanket we had on us on the floor, and reached for me, to my utter, complete shock. Mother instinctively held out an arm in front of me, locking my eyes as she yelled for us to run.

We barely slipped passed under the man's arm as we made way upstairs, her hand still gripped unto my wrist so strongly that I knew it would leave a bruise later. We clumsily scrambled up the steps, me following in her lead. I asked her what was going on. But she didn't reply; she kept running and running towards the master bedroom, with the men on our trails.

We hid in the closet and locked the door once we were both inside. I asked her again what was happening. I could see the faint light in her hazel brown eyes as she turned to me. You're reading my mind right? Well, don't talk. I have no idea who they are, or why they're here, either. Mikan, are they here…because of you?

I knew what she was trying to say. I furiously shook my head, but deep inside I was unsure of it myself. I was glad that she didn't have my power; if she knew of my doubt, the last pillar of security that's holding both of us will crumble.

Knocks came from outside the door instantly, and Mother crawled over to me, wrapping her arms around my shivering body. It's okay, shh. It's okay. She stroked my hair to calm me down every time a loud bang was heard. A man's voice called out to us, saying my name in a deep, booming voice that sent even Mother's spine cowardly arching. We moved closer to the back wall as they knocked more emphatic each time the clock rang.

'We only need the girl,' the man said in a firm tone. Mother hugged me closer to her body, almost pushing me behind her.

Mikan, they are here for you. Did you say anything unnecessary to anyone? Your friends?

I managed to whimper in denial.

Shh, don't make a noise. Listen, we both need to get out of here; at the very least, you. Once they open the door, I'll fight them off and you make a run for it. Anywhere. Outside. Just get as as far- I clutched the fabric around her shoulders, making her stop. I looked up to her eyes, which were crazed and lost despite the calm tone she thought in. I bit my lip and shook my head as persistently as I could. She couldn't do this for me, and I was determined that she won't.

Mikan, baby, we can't just let them take you to who knows where. It's a mother's job to protect her one and only daughter. She smiled, and in the faint dim of the room, I saw a tear trickle down the side of her melancholic face. You run out of this house and call for help. I swear I'll be right behind you. Oh, and next time, call me 'Mom'.

The next few scenes were a blur, as if they were played out in slow-motion, one-frame pictures.

The men kicked at the door, and as it fell, they were revealed to us, though more menacing and portent than before.

Mother lunged at them, shrieking.

My legs were somehow working, and I was able to dive between a pair of legs as I sprinted towards the door.

But halfway through, I heard metallic blasts which was followed by a screechy grunt, forcing me to look back.

Mother plummeted backwards with three bullets being shot through her. One at her heart, another piercing the side of her stomach, and the last inserted itself in the space between her brows.

Before I could do anything else, I screamed. A pained scream; a regretful scream; a reminiscing scream. I watched fully as blood began to fill her surroundings, her hair swirling around her deadly face.

The men all circled to me, their guns still visible in their hands. I couldn't feel anxiety or terror in my veins anymore. I couldn't even find the anger, rage, fury, animosity, and pure killing intent that I should have when I stared into their dark, black eyes. There was nothing in me. Seeing Mother closer to the people who stole her life than me, provoked me to such a level that I couldn't even cry.

I just screamed and screamed. And screamed in the darkness of the night.

That was my last memory during that time. The next thing I could remember was the young, but exhausted and weary face of Dad. He wasn't wearing his usual smile. He had shady bags under his eyes, and his unshaved cheeks were hollow. He was on his knees, looking up at me with deceased expression I have never seen him on before.

'There is only one way to atone for your sins, Mikan.' His voice was raspy, as if he hadn't drank water in months. Or eaten at all.

'What is it, Dad?' I was trying so, so hard not to let a single drop of tear out. Though, I was never sure why I was crying.

'I am going to make my dreams come true, and you're going to help me. That is the only way.'

So, it's a littleee long for a prologue...oh well! :D Chapter two coming up soon.
Stay smexy!