Yeah, I know why you're here. You heard rumors about me and you want to know if they're true. Given what I've heard lately, they're probably not. So if you're disappointed and bored now, feel free to wander off... Because the rest of this is serious not all that pretty. Right, let's go.
I can't tell you exactly when I was born, or where because I really don't know. I'll explain more of that a little later. I guess you could say I'm your typical accident orphan. I'm assuming my mother didn't mean to get pregnant and her best option out was to leave me near the front doors of a local hospital. That's what I'm told at least. You'll have to forgive me, I don't exactly recall these events myself and the information I've been given about them is hazy at best. So yeah, my infancy was spent in the custody of child protective services. Lovely, I know. They say I was a sickly infant, I think it's an excuse... but we're getting to that.
I spent a lot of time in and out of government funded hospitals, apparently they were looking for a "cure" to whatever was ailing me as a small child. I'm rather inclined to believe that there was really nothing wrong with me, that my convenient lack of family just made me an easy target. You see, those attempts to fix whatever was wrong with me were really experiments in genetics. In essence they were using genetic therapy to try and treat my supposed illness. You follow? No? Sometimes I don't either, it's okay.
The truth of the matter is that I was being used by the government in a genetic research program that was attempt to create a "super soldier." A human being that had been genetically altered to make them more useful in combat. I don't know the science behind it and I don't know how extensive the program was... I just always thought it safer not to dig too deep into the subject. I really don't know all of what they did to me, I have very limited memory of that time in my life and those are memories I really don't want. So somewhere around the age of six, the decided that the genetic manipulation they had done with me had been a failure and they cut me from the program. I was shuffled off into foster care and forgotten about. Thankfully forgotten about, I'm sure it's made my life much easier and much more my own.
So memories pretty much start at age six. I remember going to grade school for the first time, trying to make friends, everything a typical kid does. And everything went really smoothly for a few years. I was just your average kid, my grades weren't outstanding and my home life wasn't anything really special. It wasn't till my freshman year at high school that things started to get really weird. If you know anything about me, I'm sure you know I have a big mouth and I say whatever I feel like. Verbal editing has never been one of my skills, the same was true about me in high school. So anyway, I said something to one of the seniors out in the parking lot, apparently it pissed him off. Pissed him off enough that he punched me in the stomach. It sure as hell didn't hurt me, I barely felt it... but it shattered his knuckles. That's just not normal you know...
He called me a freak and in the end, I guess he was right. But, not the point. Moving on. I started to notice really weird things from that day on, like being more sensative to hot and cold. The weather was a constant pain in my ass. My foster parents said it was probably a throw back to my childhood illness. They were right, just not in the way they thought. I think I was around sixteen or so when the dreams started. Strange dreams, almost nightmares but just not scarey enough to wake me up. I dreamed I could fly, I dreamed about liquid metal... About things I couldn't explain or describe. My foster parent's solution was to put me into therapy. My therapist and doctors solutions? Medicate me until the dreams stopped.
The dreams never stopped, I just told them they did. Made them believe I was sane enough to be off medication so I could actually feel something again. Or I tried, they didn't believe me for long. I spent most of my high school years in a medicated stupor, my grades suffered, my friendships suffered and none of it cured me of the dreams. It reached a point during my senior year that I really thought I was losing my mind and I just had to break away. So I did, the day after graduation. I packed the few things I liked and I got the hell out of dodge. Or rather, upstate New York, same difference...
Once the medications cleared out of my system, I actually started to feel like myself again. A little crazy, a little haunted, but at least me. I'd bought a bus ticket to New York City and I thought I was really going somewhere. I got lost in that city for awhile, lost in the streets. I started to watch the skateboarders, thought I'd try it myself. I quickly learned when I pushed my body, I stopped the dreams. So I pushed hard, pushed into every extreme element of the sport I could find. I sank down into that world, learned to love the hard music and the punk girls that went along with it. Hah, yeah... There I said it.. women. Sorry boys, you can pack your things and go now.
It really didn't take long for talent scouts to notice me, I mean the guy skaters are a dime a dozen. Take a woman who can look good in tight clothes and suddenly you've got a whole new game. Am I ashamed that I used being a woman to get my break? No, not at all. I was ripped out of the New York streets and paraded across the country to all these different events. Now you're looking at me like you recognize me. You should, I'm an X Games gold medalist afterall. See, now you know who I am aside from the rumors. I'm Rai, I was the wild child famous girl of the extreme sports arena.
Yeah, I do still exist. I didn't just disappear entirely. I just got tired of the game. Not the point. Where was I? Right, so extreme sports. It was actually competitive sports and the injuries that followed that taught me most of what I know about myself. Things you would believe and the source of all the rumors. Yes it's true, I've fallen off the top of thirty foot vert ramps and I haven't broken a bone. In fact, I've never broken a bone in my entire life. I doubt it's even possible. Which brings me all the way back around to genetic experiments. The government believes that they were unsuccessful with me. They were wrong. It was the injuries I sustained and those I didn't, that taught me a lot about myself and the dreams I was always haunted by.
The truth of the matter? I was severely genetically altered, it just took years for those mutations to develop. The end result? I have a rare metal alloy fused into my body that functions almost like another organ, another part of me. It makes my bones virtually unbreakable, it makes me temperature sensitive, it makes me harder than anyone I've ever met. Physically and emotionally. Being different and hiding it takes a lot out of you afterall. And hiding and being an extreme sports athlete just don't mix so well. Retiring from the X games circuit and the tour was a really difficult decision to make. Don't get me wrong, I love skate, boarding, biking... All of it, I just couldn't be me and maintain the right image. People were starting to ask too many questions. So I jumped out of the spot light an decided to pursue some other interests.
The money I'd made on tour was more than enough for me to live comfortably and to do whatever I wanted really. So honestly, I skipped out of the United States because I was just tired of everyone knowing who the hell I was. Sometimes you just need a fresh start. Believe it or not, it does get tiring to have someone recognize you on every street corner and beg for your autograph. So I packed up and moved north. All the way up to Canada. You can bet that I don't always like the cold up here, I think I own more winter jackets than anyone has a right to. But it's nice, I'm let alone and it's quite. So sod off already.
So yeah, I moved up here to Canada to get a fresh start on things. Maybe to grow up a little, because come on... be serious, do you honestly think that you're treated like an adult when you go crashing around on a skateboard all day? No, it doesn't happen. Get real. So after puttering around Canada for awhile, I decided I couldn't escape the whole extreme sports thing. It's just in my blood I guess. But I didn't want to compete anymore, so I did the next best thing. I opened a skate and board shop, now I get to watch all the little kids attempt gross stupidity and laugh. Yeah, terrible, I know. I never said I was a nice person.
I guess I told you way back, that I really got into music when I was stuck in the scene in New York. Being up in Canada gave me time to chase that down too. I discovered I really have a thing for the guitar, it just feels good in my hands and playing it is almost natural. It's this amazing stress relief and it really lets me be who I am without having to make an ass of myself in some random excuse for a sport. No disrespect to those still in the curcuit, but we all have the grow up eventually. So now I write my music and play with a few friends in this excuse of thing we call a band. I guess between the shop and my music I'm pretty happy. I won't lie, I feel like there are things missing in my life. But let's be honest here, how much can a mutant musician really expect out of the world?
