Chapter 13. 1973

                                    

                                          
I don't want to talk or think about school. But I still have to.
We opened the school in '65. But it only lasted a half a year. The boys, who were eighteen or so, were taken to the front in Vietnam. The rest were taken home by their parents-they were afraid for their children. Well, I can't blame them. But I became attached to each child, and for me, as for Charles, it was a tragedy.
Then they took Alex, one of our only friends. I don't know anything about his fate. No matter how hard I try, the information is classified. And Sean left. Gone in one day. Didn't even leave a note. I managed to find out what happened to him - he died, but when and where, I don't know.
But I was dealing with it all - I was helped by Charles's love. I could talk to him about anything, cry on his shoulder if I saw one of our students on the kill list. But that ended, too. Charles began to be tormented by the voices again. And the pain in spine came.
The voices of people, of students, of mutants. And there was nothing I could do to help him. Hank had developed a serum that kept the mutation in check as much as possible. It also helps Charles to numb the pain. Hank developed it for himself, but he had to share it with Charles. But that soon stopped working, too.
And Charles began to drink. Not much at first. But then it became more and more.
And then my nightmares came back. They were killing me from the inside, like poison. Like they were just waiting to come back. I sleep intermittently, and only with sleeping pills. But I don't tell Charles-if he's only had a few drinks, it's a celebration. Why else would he have my problems? He doesn't even think about me.
Some may wonder why I still do not leave him. Even if I did, it wouldn't help. And maybe also because, in spite of what's going on with Charles, I still love him. Or rather, I hope that the Charles I loved, married, tried to support in everything, will come back.
So I try to find a way out - Charles just needs to be monitored, nightmares are well expelled by sleeping pills, and to spend less time at home I got a job. 
I got a job at a scientific newspaper as a specialist in mutations, but as soon as the opportunity opened up to write about something else, I happily jumped at it. That's how the legal foundations in genetics turned out. I had to study to become a lawyer to do that. It allowed me to be even less at home. What was once such a home. And now it has fallen into disrepair, the gate is signed "private property," and the mansion itself is dirty.
This is the state of affairs as of January '73.