Fucked up doesn’t cover it when it comes to describing me, but that’s usually what people say I am. For a start I’m a hopeless drug addict, and if you wanna see the really fucked up shit, you wanna see what I can do. I might as well not be a human, really. I think I’m a human. I look and smell and work like one, but I can control a whole bunch of stuff. I’ve got that tele... umm... tele-whatsit that moves shit around. Y’know the one I mean. And I can control human bodies. I used to think it was just healing stuff, but when I played around with it a bit more, it was way more than that. If I had the time and patience I could control you; your memories, your actions, the way you think, everything about you. Just as well I haven’t got that kind of time on my hands, really, but yeah, point is I can change a human’s body down to every tiny cell.
I’ve never really tried controlling any animals or anything. Usually, I sit in my bed with a steady stream of heroin or coke or whatever I can get hold of in my veins. Oh yeah, I don’t think I mentioned the fact that I’m immortal. So I guess I go a bit over board with the drugs in some people’s eyes, but fuck it, it’s never gonna kill me or anything.
Only time I generally leave my bed any more is to go buy more drugs, to sell them so I have the money to buy more for myself, to steal shit if I get desperate, use the toilet, and lastly, go get food. I guess now Rayn’s moved in next door I’ll be expected to go do other stuff. I know, I know, I sound like a loser, but if I’m immortal, I’m sure I can do something worthwhile with my life some other time, right?
Anyway, enough rambling, I need more drugs. I mean, I’m high now, but it won’t last, it never does, and I might as well while I’m off my face on a speedball. At least I have the energy to go do something.
I didn’t bother putting on a hoodie or anything, I’d hardly need it with my heart having a little marathon and pushing heat around me as fast as it can. I walked as fast as I could be bothered to go on my search for something to keep me high, not really paying attention to what was going on around me. I vaguely felt something bump into me and heard someone saying something that sounded like: "Watch where you're going, asshole." I kept walking. I didn’t know what was going on around me, let alone care.
"Are you not gonna say sorry?" the voice said again. That was aimed at me wasn’t it? I looked around, trying to see if it was me or not, and saw this guy who was maybe just a couple inches shorter than me with his hair tied back in this gay assed ponytail and these bright green eyes. He looked kinda pissed and he looked like he was kinda pissed at me in particular. I turned around, not in the mood for a fight for once and walked off.
Or at least, I tried to. A rock went flying into the back of my head, and I spun around, no doubt in my fuzzy mind that it was ponytail that’d thrown it. When I said I wasn’t in the mood for a fight, I’d meant it. I’d fucking kill him for that.
"Manners, you might wanna learn some," he said.
"Says the cunt that just threw a fucking rock at me," I raged at him.
"Thought it might knock some sense into your head." At that, I lost control. My power does that. It’s totally affected by my mood – the more pissed off I get, the more shit starts flying into whatever’s pissed me off. So naturally, the rock he threw at me? That flew into his face.
"Maybe you wanna think twice before you pick a fight with me." I’d say he was lucky I didn’t have a gun on me like I usually did, but I learnt this nifty little trick where you stop the other person’s heart without touching them, so, he was fucked whether I had it or not. The more angry I got at ponytail, the more shit started making a beeline for him, pebbles, grit from the road, the bench at the side of it, you name it, it fucking went for him.
Except that was when I found out he was more of a freak than me. At least my powers don’t fucking set me on fire. ‘Cause guess who was standing there, casually on fire? Yeah, that would be ponytail. I was kinda shocked at that, but still mad enough to not really care. It wasn’t like I hadn’t come across people with powers before. I kept making stuff fly at him, but it just seemed to make him and his fire angrier.
While I was doing all this attacking, I was trying my best to toughen my skin so I could deal with the fire ‘cause fuck did I wanna punch the guy. Hard. A lot. When I was about as thick skinned as I could get, I charged at ponytail, launching myself with what I had hoped would be enough force to throw him down so I could get this over with.
Apparently not. Because he started hitting me. With fire. And fists. And fire. I punched back, still managing to do pretty well, considering how high I was. But like I said, I wanted it over, so I kicked the fucker in the nuts, making him fall to his knees. While he was all distracted, I landed a heavy punch to the back of his head, intending to keep him disoriented while I tried to stop his heart. Only thing is, I was way too out of it for that kind of control.
Ponytail grabbed me while I was trying to concentrate and pulled me over. Before I knew what was even going on, I was on the ground, being straddled by a guy that was on fire, having my face pounded and burnt. Actually, a lot of me was burning. And just ‘cause I can heal myself, doesn’t mean that shit don’t hurt.
I just wanted to get him off me, but he wasn’t done with me, apparently. Sure, he toned down the fire, but I was still, y’know, underneath a guy that was on fire. Not a nice place to be. I tried pushing him off me, calling him a faggot and every other name I could think of. I’d take a good face kicking over having him sat on me.
"Learnt your lesson yet, asshole?" he asked.
"All I've learnt is that you're a flaming faggot,” I yelled.
"One, I'm not a faggot and I don't want to hear you use that fucking word again. Two, when you bump into someone, you fucking say sorry. Got that?" he turned up the flames again, giving me his angry face. I spat at him.
“Faggot.” It earned me a slap but he was fucking asking for it. I ignored it, shoving him off of me. “Dumbass cocksucking faggot,” I muttered, sitting up and inspecting the damage he’d done to me and my clothes.
"I'm pretty sure I said not to use that word again, buddy."
"Make me, /faggot/,” I hissed. He smirked at me, and at first I wondered why.
And then I felt my body starting to tingle uncomfortably. The sensation rushed around every cell in my body, quickly turning into the worst pain I’d ever had to deal with. I curled up, screaming at him wordlessly as I burned up. It felt like he’d somehow gotten that fire into my veins and I couldn’t do anything about it. I vaguely noticed the dark return to the street as ponytail’s fire went out. I looked up at him and that smirk, unable to even consider ways of getting him back for this. It hurt too much.
Of course, that’s when it all went dark. Guess there’s no afterlife for people like me, even if our deaths are short.