AlternaWorld

    Christina Collins looked out her third bedroom window in two years upon a third backyard. This one happened to be in Angel Grove. Her last one was in Bakersfield, about an hour away. She'd actually enjoyed that neighborhood, mainly because of her neighbor, Mark Oxman. He'd been a few years younger than her, but they'd been good friends, nonetheless.
    Christina sighed, still not wanting to unpack, even after being in Angel Grove for two weeks. What's the point? she thought bitterly. I'm just going to be moved again in a few months.
    Gone was the happy child of six she had once been. In her place, a cynical, disillusioned woman-child of sixteen walked through life, weathering the storms thrown at her. She had kept up with her dance, the one constant in her life, by taking free community lessons wherever she landed. As she grew, her body developed into the long, lean, lithe body of a dancer.
    She started getting ready for school, pulling her favorite outfit from her suitcase: a black tank top, a long black broomstick skirt, and black lace-up sandals. Around her waist, she tied a long, multicolored sash that her Bakersfield friends had given her as a going-away present. Christina went downstairs, knowing that her her foster father, John, would have already left for work and that Mary, her foster mother, would still be asleep. Christina tossed a bottle of water and an apple into her black straw bag and headed off to school.
    "Christina! Christina, wait up!" a male voice called out. Christina waited until Will Cranston caught up to her. "Thanks for waiting," he said, slowing to a normal pace.
    "No problem. Hey, did you understand what Mr. Ritter was talking about in biology yesterday?" she asked.
    "Affirmative. Why?"
    "I didn't quite grasp it. Do you think, maybe, that you could explain it to me at lunch?"
    "Of course." Christina and Will had become close friends in the short time she had been in Angel Grove, possibly due to Will's having lost his mother in a car crash when he was younger. Neither of them talked about their experiences, but they sensed in each other kindred souls.
    Will adjusted the straps of his backpack and stuck his hands in his overall pockets. "Um, Christina?"
    "Hmm?"
    "Do you...do you hang out with me just because I help you with your homework?" The tone of his voice alerted Christina that he'd had to ask that question before.
    "No way. I hang with you because I like you. You're one of the few friendly people at this school."
    Will smiled a sad smile. "Angel Grove isn't the friendliest place. I remember my experiences as a new student quite vividly."
    "When'd you move here?"
    "Not too long after the accident. Admittedly, I didn't try too hard to make friends then, but I have witnessed other new students having similar experiences."
    "Yeah, I've been the new kid so many times in my life and this is hands-down the worst place to be new." Christina glanced sidelong at Will. "But you did make friends, though. That group you hang with at Ernie's, right?"
    Will coughed. "Oh, them. Well, they're more acquaintances than friends. It's better to stay on their good side. I, uh, help them with their schoolwork in exchange for not being beaten up by them every day."
    Christina nodded. "There's always people like that." They had reached the school by then. "Well, I'll see you in bio, Will."
    "I'll watch for you."

    After school, Christina headed for Ernie's. Will wanted to meet her there so they could work on the biology homework a little more. As she pushed open the door, her ears were assaulted with the sounds of loud, hard bass rap music. "Eww," she muttered, wrinkling up her nose.
    Will was sitting in a relatively quiet section of the place, books spread out over the table. When Christina approached, he jumped nervously.
    "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she apologized, sliding into a seat next to him.
    "It's all right, I was simply absorbed in a rather involved problem," he replied, casting a glance around the room.
    At the bar, a young man in black jeans and a red leather vest stood up, intending to cross the room to Will's table. A young Asian woman in dark yellow jeans and a grey halter stopped him, shaking her head. "It's not time yet, JL," she told him. "Patience is a virtue."
    "Reene, since when have I been virtuous?" he asked her, sliding his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.
    "JL, trust me. If you wait a little longer, she'll be ready to do anything you ask." Just then, they heard a beeping from JL's wrist.
    At the table, Christina noticed Will's nervous glances around the room. "Will, what's going on? You're acting like you expect a mass murderer to come racing in here," she demanded.
    "It's...it's nothing."
    "Bull. What's bothering you?" She looked at him a little closer. "Does it have to do with that guy at the bar, who's headed this way?"
    Will looked up to see that JL was approaching his table. "Affirmative," he replied. "That's one of the group I was telling you about this morning."
    "Will," JL said as he stepped into the corner, "we've gotta go. Emergency." JL tapped his watch.
    "I'll join you shortly," Will told JL.
    "Right. Later." JL and Reene left Ernie's.
    "Will, what's going on? I thought you said they weren't really friends of yours," Christina asked, confused.
    "I'll explain later. Meet me at my house at five," Will replied, getting up to go.
    Not too long after he left, Ernie came out from the kitchens, bellowing "Change to channel six! The Power Rangers are back!"
    The teen behind the bar turned the television to Channel Six News and Christina got her first glimpse of the Power Rangers. "Odd," she murmured. One of the Rangers didn't seem as intent on destruction as the others. That one, the Blue Ranger, spoke to one of his companions. The familiar voice hit Christina full force. "Will?"

    That night, Christina knocked on the window of Will's room before climbing in. Fortunately for her, he lived on the first floor of his house. His father didn't approve of Will having girls as friends, feeling that it would distract him from his studies.
    "So, what's up? Why'd you leave in such a hurry with someone you profess not to like?" she asked him.
    "It's a long story," he started.
    "I have time. John had a drinking spree, so he's passed out 'till tomorrow and Mary's gonna be busy taking care of her bruises."
    "Well..."
    "Come out with it. You're a Power Ranger, aren't you?" She stared at Will, defying him to disprove her.
    "Yes, I am."
    "Why? Don't you know what they're like?" Christina could hardly believe that sweet Will was a part of the Power Rangers.
    "Yes, I know what they're like. I've spent nearly a year on that team. I can't escape. If I quit, they'll kill me." His tone of voice was so matter-of-fact that Christina shuddered.
    "Isn't there anything you could do?"
    "No. I've tried." Will rolled up his shirt sleeve to reveal an ugly, twisted scar. "That happened when I turned them down. They threatened to remove my arm if I turned them down again. I didn't want to risk it, so I accepted."
    Christina gently touched the scar. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
    "Don't be. It was a few years ago that it happened. They now know that they can't function without me. If they injure me, I can't fix the battle damage to their Zords anymore," Will spit out, the words leaving a foul taste in his mouth.
    Christina just looked at Will, her eyes filled with empathy. "I had a foster home like that once." She pulled the neckline of her shirt over her shoulder to reveal a large, circular dark spot on the top of her right shoulder. "My foster brothers were molesting me, and when I complained to my foster father, he held me down and burned my shoulder with a cigar while his oldest son raped me. I was taken out of that home a month later."
    Will met Christina's eyes. More now than ever, they could sense a kinship between them.

    "Stop it!" Christina screamed. She picked up a large vase from a nearby table and brandished it at her foster father. "I mean it, John! Take one step closer to either Mary or me, and I'll..."
    "You'll what?" John sneered drunkenly. "You can't hurt me, you little snit!"
    Christina heaved the vase at John and it shattered above his head. John laughed. "I told you you can't hurt me!" Just then, John tripped over the end table and fell heavily to the ground, bashing his head on the corner of the table, knocking himself out.
    "Mary, let's go!" Christina exclaimed, taking her foster mother's hand.
    "I...I can't! He'll find me, he'll hurt me!" The fear was apparent in Mary's eyes.
    Christina looked at her foster mother in disgust. "I'm not staying here to let him take advantage of me. You can stay if you want, but I'm getting out of here with my body and my pride intact!" Christina went into her room, packed up her suitcases, and called Will to pick her up and take her to a women's shelter.
    So on her seventeenth birthday, Christina Collins took her life into her own hands.