Predestination Page #3

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But that was all we had in common.

I was never sick, not one day.

So I was never taken to a hospital.

Not until later in my life.

Slow down.

One chocolate ice cream

- for the cute little lady.

- Thank you.

When I was little, I

envied kids with parents.

I always wondered what it would be like.

Stupid kid!

Get off the damn street!

Little sh*t!

Jane!

Come here now.

Son of a b*tch!

I never understood

why my parents abandoned me.

What had I done that was so wrong?

But as I got older,

I knew something was different about me.

Sex confused me, you know?

The way it works, the way everything fits.

I felt different.

And even back then,

I knew that I was going to be different

from all the other girls.

I made a solemn vow

that any kid of mine

would have both a mom and a pop.

A real family.

It kept me pure.

Away from temptation.

So I focused my attention

on more important things.

Like learning how to fight.

Fight! Fight!

- Come on, Lucy, go!

- Come on!

What'd you call me?

Pinky, four-eyed, little b*tch...

I was tough.

Much stronger than any of the other kids.

Even the boys.

All right, break it up!

- Jane, come with me!

- Let go!

- What's wrong with you?

- I didn't do anything!

And I was smart too.

Top of the class.

Equals...

Jane!

Jane.

How do you ever expect

to learn anything if you never...

Fifteen.

Math and physics were my favorite subjects.

- That's correct.

- It all came easy for me.

Retard.

Enough!

When I got older,

I realized I stood

little chance of getting married

for the same reason I hadn't been adopted.

I was different.

A freak. A goddamn loser.

I stopped looking in the mirror.

I hated what I saw.

I have no photos of myself as a young girl.

I don't even remember what I looked like.

It's just more of a feeling now.

Well, you look better than I do.

Who cares how a barkeep looks?

Or a writer for that matter.

But you know how it is.

People want to adopt

a little golden-haired moron.

And later on, the boys,

they want big tits and pouty lips.

You know, perfect accessory.

I couldn't compete.

Jane,

Mr. Robertson has made a special effort

to talk to some of our

graduating girls today.

You will do him the courtesy

of listening to what he has to say.

Jane, I work for a new organization

seeking young women, like yourself,

to train in a career in government service.

We are what you might call

progressive.

I hear you're interested in space travel.

Well, they say that girls

can't be astronauts.

That's true.

We're seeking young ladies

who show great promise

in the fields of mathematics and science,

as well as strong physical abilities.

I hear you're a bit of a backyard brawler.

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