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DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING. Not the characters from Marvel and not that wicked movie Inception. (I would also like to add that I think Leonardo DiCaprio deserves an Oscar, but my opinion doesn't count because I don't own anything and can't put forth a sizable contribution BECAUSE I DON'T OWN ANYTHING.)


Ororo Munroe’s life was officially over at eighteen.

She sat dumbfounded, staring at her failed test. However much time lapsed between taking it and eagerly awaiting the results was gone, and was certainly not comparable to the amount of time she just sat there, staring at it. How could it be conceivable that she failed something so easy? She’d been so prepared! Apparently preparation meant nothing when life got in the way. And no matter how hard she stared, the result remained the same.

Her life was so over. There would be no more fun, no more friends, just punishment and regret. With this new development, she’d never be able to go to NYU or Columbia, she’d be stuck at home going to a city college-- not that there was anything wrong with that, college was still college, but still! She’d never be able to join a sorority, dance with some random people, or puke in bushes while her friends cried drunkenly over a cat fight. Those hard earned scholarships meant nothing now.

Nope. Now she had to plan.

And while she knew she had to plan, she couldn’t do anything but sit and wait and stare.

It couldn’t be true.

Ororo Munroe was smart. She studied hard for everything. She was in advanced classes and nearly all the honor societies (she would never get over the C-plus she got first semester in biology class freshmen year, but still. And besides, who really can name the allele responsible for Turner’s Syndrome? Chromosomes be damned, sometimes things happened!), and the debate team. She wasn’t some stupid twit who did things on a whim.

No. This wasn’t her life. It was a dream. Yes, she’d had some sort of Inception moment, where Leonardo DiCaprio and that smoldering Tom Hardy were doing ninja moves inside her mind. When she’d wake, Ororo would totally be like-- I have to dismantle this company, but obviously not dismantle a company; her reality would be retaking this test and being better prepared.

Too bad there was only one test to take. Even worse that she knew she’d fail again.

Ororo Munroe was not the cursing type-- her boyfriend, Logan, yes, but not her-- but today would be a good day to start. Because she knew people would be cursing at her or around her a lot more in the near future.

“Ro, you coming? You’ve been in there for, like, ever,” Emma called from the other side of the bathroom door.

Ororo Munroe’s life was officially over at eighteen so somebody else’s could begin.





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