Ethreal : who's to say dat...Mature

Waking up to the pain of realising that you on the floor is probably an experience that most people have had and regret every moment of the night before. Another is to get into a fight and end up with your nose broken or have had cuts that turn into scars and in the worst cases a broken bone or two that never quite heal right. Some can claim never to have had one of these things happen to them, I am one of them. Though it’s not through lack of trying.

  I have done it all, gotten in bar brawls for no reason, drunk enough whisky to intoxicate an elephant, and thrown myself at enough obstacles to kill any normal person. But I am not normal, every time some dick threw me down I got right back up again and sent him flying backwards with my own hands. I have never had even the slightest feeling of drunkenness or a hangover no matter how much I drink. Whenever I feel a bone breaking it seems to knit itself right back over the break, leaving, nothing.

  Imagine what you would feel like if you woke up one day to find you are

a)       Invincible

b)       Incredibly strong

  What would you do? Because I have to put up with the world of normal people every stinking day.


  The gentle snoring of my roommate woke me from one of the only dreams that I had had in ages. The soft pillow was pressed against my face with the itchy duvet lying on top of me. Sighing I swung my legs over cursing my roommate for his seemingly endless snoring that seemed to emanate from the lacklustre landscape that the previous owner had painted on the wall.

 Living in college wasn’t too bad I guess but at least back home my parents understood what I was and why I am the way I am. Here they avoid me, call me a freak, talk about me behind my back. None would dare say that to my face of course, one advantage of being massively strong and also being 6’’ 5’ I guess.

  Smirking, I pushed myself forward off the bed to stumble into the shower room for a quick shower before starting my daily schedule. The room was spotlessly white and clean from the deep clean that Nichole did every fortnight.

  She’s James’ girlfriend and seriously she must be a frekin OCD case or somthin’ because she keeps cleaning his room and stuff. She justifies it by saying, she doesn’t want him living in a ‘pig sty’nice. Oh well at least the bathrooms clean. I shrugged.

  Climbing into the shower I let the freezing cold water jerk me into full consciousness as I completed the waking up procedure. Quickly climbing out again after washing myself as little as was possible but enough to stay hygienic I slipped into a pair of jeans and a shirt that I picked for its size rather than its design. So many times I had been limited to what I could wear due to my size. Drying my face of one last time I ran into the kitchen to grab some toast which had been my staple breakfast for most of my life.

  Walking out of the apartment I left with a parting crack of “Bye Paul.” And the satisfaction of hearing him groan at being woke up like he did to me every, frikin, morning. Walking quickly down the steps taking them comfortably three at a time I was soon at the bottom of the block of flats in which I lived. It is ugly I know but It was cheap and close enough to the university so that i could jog there.

  When I got to the university I glanced at the huge clock that floated like a giant stop watch over the town hall and saw that I still had a few hours to go till my first professional boxing match. Perfect. I guess the rugby team I could see practicing in the playing field wouldn’t mind one extra player. They looked a little thin on numbers today.

  Grinning I pushed my way through the changing room door, the rugby session had been fun and I had even been invited to join the team. That was by the coach though all the players there had glared at me, at some point in the practice I had managed to get all of the guys on the ground and none managed to knock me down. I said no, knowing they would never really want me in their team.

  Walking down the hallway I happened to glance into one of the classrooms and saw a girl, quite small holding the hand of one of the teachers and staring into his eyes. “Slut.” I murmured under my breath and my mirth vanished to be replaced by my customary grimace. Checking, my pockets I realised I left my phone back in the changing room. Just in time to see who else but the slut in question walk out the classroom. Great, lucky thing no.2 today.

 Making a move to try to walk round the small girl I was quite annoyed when she stepped in front of me and grabbed my hand! What the fuck was she doing? I felt a breath like a finger brush against my mind and my hand was glowing. Jerking my hand free full blown anger swept over me and I quickly walked away to stop myself from slapping the bitch.

 Quickly picking up my phone I stormed off to my next class. What the hell had happened there, what was she? How did she do that? Those questions ran through my head throughout the whole of my match not even needing to focus as I won the match by knockout in round 2.

The End

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