Your Heart

Chapter Two: Abel's story

The world is a twisted place if you think about it.

The Universe is a bad place when you're not used to changing. The world was normal, my normal. I didn't want anyone else to have suffered, so I came to hope that no one else survived, even just this once. I was unlucky. I was never used to what I found when I finally got to earth, the tall buildings and judging eyes were enough to make me stumble and fall at every corner. But I'm too crazy to let the only thing I have left slip away from my hands, which were laced with bandages.

I never enjoyed the look of pure confusion my parents use to give whenever I lifted a finger, but it never bothered me as long as I would just stay still. My power had everyone slightly on edge wherever I was. My parents used to say that if I believed I could get better then I would. Too bad that insanity isn't that simple.

I was sent to a hospital when I was six and spent two years there. The rooms were pure white. A white swivel chair, a white desk, all of the pencils were white and were to be written on black paper, along with white bedsheets and blankets, even the bedstand was white. I had a room connected -sort of- with a girl that was in the same department of the hospital as me. What I mean is we were blocked by a glass wall. I used to walk up to it, bored out of my mind, to see her sitting at her bedside, in the completely white room. I thought she looks pretty and wondered why she would be here. Her pure creamy white hair and naturally tan skin made her look like a dream. The only thing that maybe or maybe not guaranteed that she was real was her piercing, icy blue eyes. I admired her until the day blood splattered all over the wall...

I woke up, and there were streaks of red over the glass wall. I jumped up and looked through a not yet covered part of the wall. She was tearing into her arms with her teeth, then splattering it over the walls and smearing it all over. I sat down, watching in fascination as she wrote in large, looping cursive letters. 

P... H... O... E... N... I... X... 

I stood, placing my palm on the glass as she slowly walks towards me, her arms still bleeding profusely. Just as she placed her hand over mine, my parents walk in to find me. They both scream when they see the bright red blood all over my 'roomates' walls, pressing the hospital panic button. A set of nurses all run in, and one faints from the amount of blood on the walls. The two others screamed, running out of the room. They looked to me, and I was smiling at the girl as she shared the same expression. We understand each other...

The girl and I continued to talk as time seemed ever so slow in our sector. Phoenix, which I found out later, was kind yet unstable, and I was endlessly riled and- well..- crazy.

My parents thought it was just how they raised me, but the doctor always reassured them "Oh, no he was born this fucked up." I was discharged from the hospital, never toI always loved that. My ability, making people change or forget certain thing mentally or emotionally always did scare people. Probably because I was also insane, so if I threw a tantrum then I could flip a switch for that person and possibly kill them.

Don't worry! Your son WOULDN'T EVER do that!

...I did. And my parents died when I was eight due to myself throwing a tantrum and killing them. Fun, right? Well after the war at home started I did leave asap and found earth, maybe or maybe not going to middle school and meeting some friends that maybe or maybe not got me to sell drugs. Yeah, I didn't have any other means, and the people liked to manipulate me so I ended up leaving them at the ripe age of 16.

I've always been the one to let my curiosity get the best of me, so I escaped the city of Tokyo, where I'd been residing, and hiked into the mountains with only a backpack and a piece of my home to tinker with. No one I knew asked questions about my absence, so I was relieved I could leave without a trace.

I have stayed in the woods for several weeks, making sure that I could still return if I ever needed new supplies. I had walked from site to site, sleeping in a tent with only hope to keep me warm.

But, then I saw it. A small ship came crashing down just a mile from my camp, but I could recognize it instantly. A ship from home. I was sitting, in pure horror as to what I'd find, but my fear of missing out on something so important to my life pulled me back. But, after several hours of self-argumentation, I eventually got up and hiked to where it was, all my things with me just in case. When I got there, the ship was still dormant. I sighed, relieved that no one was probably in there. I walked around the ship, examining how large it was.

Clearly, it was a medium sized motherland flighter 52, and I could tell it had been in space for well over a few years. I could see the scratch marks on the siding, scars on a memory. I finally got back around, noticing that the hatch to the door has yet to be unlatched.

Pshhhhh..

The sound of the steps to the outer stairs sounded, alarming me but I quickly got over it. I walked up the stairs until I was face to face with the dark metal siding of the door. I take a big breath in, convincing myself to open it. The long outward gasp came out, I had made my mind. I concentrated, knowing and imagining the lock on the alternative side. I calm my breathing and place my hand on the door.

Click.

I sighed as relief flooded over me like a tidal wave. The door wasn't stuck shut, I think. I pull on the door, un-enclosing the inner contents. Nothing. The small main room had nothing in it as I could see. I walk around to the other two rooms until I had eventually looked everywhere.. except the extended wall of cabinets. I slowly linger towards the wall, opening them casually. It was until I had opened all but one had I found something.