TW - Some dark descriptions. Suicide.

I toss and turn on my bed. I look at the clock. 4 am. Yep. Figures. No sleep tonight.

I head to my home gym. I used to go to the public one. But someone recognized me there. Someone whose life I had… impacted. He had attacked me. I didn’t try to defend myself. But the guards were able to quickly pull him off me. I didn’t thank them. I just walked away. One call and the city provided me the equipment I needed at my home, no questions asked.

I’m exhausted after my workout and look at my bed. A bed should be the most comfortable place for a person. A place to power down, let go off your problems, relax and let your mind wander freely via dreams. For me… i loathed it. My mind wandered. I just didn’t like where it ended up.

I put on the tv. There’s some old Asian movie on. Tiles of fire it’s called. Seems to be about some sort of a game. It isn’t great but it’s better than nothing.

In an instant the farmer’s son is replaced by a young teen. The teen has a hole where her heart should be. She holds it out to me, blood still dripping. To my horror I take it. She smiles, nodding encouragingly. I throw it on the ground. I’m crying. But not her. She’s still smiling as I stomp her heart. Her smile cannot hide her pain though. By the time I finish stomping, the heart, once driving this young girl with her whole life in front of her has been turned to mush. A whole lot of nothing. There is a whistling sound in my ears. It gets plunder and louder till blood starts to pour from my ears. I look at my bloody hands and try to scream. No sound comes out. I look down and realize I’ve stomped on my own tongue unknowingly. I look at my blood hands and shoes and I scream silently again. I scream and scream and…

I wake up with a start noticing that my phone was ringing. I am struggling to breathe. It’s the superhero line. No. Not today. God damnit not today.

I reluctantly pick up the phone.

Sarafina’s voice breaks through my brain fog. “Trolley man? Are you ok?”

I’m fond of Sarafina. She has told me the story of her name a few times. Her mother had died during childbirth. She was a big fan of the “his dark materials” series of books. Her dad, a brute, who had read nothing longer than a 3 page menu at Denny’s, but still loved his wife had tried to honour his wife’s memory by naming Sara after a character. Of course, he couldn’t remember the name exactly and had butchered the spelling. But Sara didn’t mind. She claimed it showed that he made an effort and that’s the best any of us could do. Her dad had died a few years ago. She herself had contracted a rare form of cancer. Her survival had been a miracle. I wonder if I’d ever be able to admit anything to her. When I had gotten the call from her, gushing about her recovery, I had been sitting on a rooftop, with an innocent kid in my rifle’s scope. Would I have gone through with it? I dont know. I just knew one thing. I was a monster. I knew it. She knew it. Everyone knew it. But I was also their trump card. And thus they all ignored so many of my murders.

They could. But not me. I still woke up at nights trying to wash the my bloody hands of the blood only I could see. I was haunted by the ghosts of their memories, the lives they would never live.

“Please don’t call me that. Just call me anything else.”

“That’s your superhero name.”

It was also the name that existed to remind me of my nature. “Just call me a man. Let’s skip the trolley.”

There was an urgency to her voice. After all this time I could pick it up. Even if I had talked to her for a while. “We need you. Code red.”

I raise my eyebrow. “That bad?”

“Worse than anything you can imagine.”

“This is the last time Sara. You promised.”

“I did. I intend to keep it. But you need to be here right now. We don’t have much time.”

I look back at my lonely bed. I always told her it would be the last time. But the idea of being alone with my memories scared me. I knew I would probably end up killing my self if left alone without a purpose. I know it’s not a nice thing to say but it is true. So I sigh and leave. I could kid myself that this was the last time but I knew well enough that it wouldn’t be. I was too much of a coward.

The sun is being blocked by something. The people are running back and forth. It’s always amazing to see how different people react to something like this. What “this” is, I don’t know yet. And I don’t care. For me, the true monster was inside me. This thing, supervillain, monster whatever it was, was no match to the MeMon, as I fondly called it.

Sara is standing inside the facility with a dossier. “We are in deep trouble. We are dealing with a…”

“I don’t care Sara. Let’s get it over with.”

As I pass her she puts her hand on my shoulder. “You are a hero. You’re doing a good thing. You should know that.”

“Am I? Then why does it scare me? If I’m a hero why do I want to go run away screaming in the other direction?”

“Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

My tongue. Smashed under my foot. She’s beaten death. I am death. It’s impossible. “I want to be alone for some time. Please respect that.”

She walks briskly keeping up with me. She asks me more questions. About me. My health. If I was going to therapy. I ignore all of the questions. At this moment I’m wound up tighter than a 8 day clock. At any moment my insides can explode out destroying everything.

I walk into the room. It’s empty except for one person who’s sitting on a chair. She seems young. She’s praying.

God. What an idea. If a god had created me, he was no less than a devil.

The girl looks at me. She’s smiling. I close my eyes tightly as I flash back to my dream.

I turn my back to her.

“Sir. I’m glad to be…”

“NO. NO YOU AREN’T.”

She’s taken aback by my outburst. “I am! If my life can be…”

“Oh just stop it.” I spit on the ground.

She looks at Sara, her eyes welling up with tears.

Sara walks up to her and gives her a hug. “It’s ok Ramona. He’s just…”

“WHAT THE FUCK. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SAY HER NAME?”

I take out a gun and shoot at the young girl Ramona. It’s a clean shot right in the middle of her forehead. Sara catches a lot of splash on her pristine white pantsuit.

I turn around and walk out. I can hear Sara calling for me from behind but I have no desire to talk. Outside the shadow has lifted and the sun is beaming down on everyone in the town. Everyone except me. The permanent shadow that is always over me, is darker than ever.

Sara catches up to me, out of breath. She again holds my shoulder turning me around. “She only had 3 days to live.”

“That she never will because of me. Those 3 days could’ve been the best of her life. But no. I cut them short.”

“You are a superhero. You have saved countless lives today. Thousands. Maybe millions.”

“You don’t know that. I’m not a hero Sara. I’m… Sara?”

I look at her. Her eyes are bulging. She’s struggling to breathe. She motions to her purse. “Epi… epi…” is all she can say.

“Are you having an allergic reaction? Do you have an Epi pen?”

I take her purse and turn it upside down, all the contents raining down on the floor. No Epi pen. I look at her with horror.

She’s smiling at me.

No. No.

“Don’t smile. Be angry god damn it.”

I look around. There’s no one around. The unit has hardly any employees and the entrance is well hidden. The employees that are here are probably taking care of disposing off the body.

She holds out her hand.

I shake my head. “I’m not gonna watch you die. Not you. Not another person.”

I take out my gun and point it at my head. “I can’t watch more death Sara. Forgive me.”

Time slows down as I feel pressure. I feel a whistling sound in my ears. It feels very familiar. As the consciousness departs my body I still have enough left to see that Sara has gotten up and is rushing towards me. She doesn’t seem sick at all.

That means…

I was innocent. I am innocent. I keep repeating this mantra as my only path to salvation.

I have a smile on my face as I feel something stomping on my brain.