When I get going, it' hard for me to stop..like my personal Muse won't shut her mouth...anyway...
I am...or rather, was, psychic. I believe the correct term for my affliction is "teleknesis", movement of the mind. Little background, and all you really need to know. That, and I love a girl. Nothing huge aside from the fact that she's engaged. Of all the luck...and, to top it all off, her fiancee loathes me...which brings us to one hot summer Saturday afternoon. There I was, just walking, minding my own business, sweating profusely under the glaring eye of heaven, when it hits me. I'm being followed. Two more seconds, and I deduce who is doing the following. It's Mary, and her fiancee. I want to turn, want to wave, say hello, have a nice chat with Mary...but I don't want to have to deal with conflict...not today. My more rational side loses, and I turn, wave, say hello. The look on his face is absolutley bone chilling, and he charges. I wince, hoping Mary knows I'm only defending myself, and will the ground beneath him to rise up, grasp his ankles, hold him still. He scowls, curses, struglles against the concrete holding his feet to the floor. She runs to him, holding him, yelling at him, giving me the most apologetic look she can muster. I merely close my eyes, and listen, listen to the two of them, hear him call her th emost horrific names, hear her start to sob, hear him continue to berate the both of us, and something, something deep with me, snaps. My eyes fly open, and in a rage, I storm over to him, and glare right in his eyes.
"You have no god damn right to call either of us those things! This is all your doing! You treat her like...like a fucking posession! Not letting her have her own god damn friends, not letting her do as she wishes, forcing her to like who you do, and even then, you hold her close, chain her down, saying it's because you love her! You are nothing more than an insecure little boy..."
Big words, big meaning, very little impact. I forget how close I am to him, and my head snaps as he connects with a right hook. Warmth flows across my cheek, and I look to Mary, my eyes filled with pain, sadness, rage, defeat...I turn away, and start walking, releasing the fool's feet when I'm a good half a block away.
******
A few months pass, and I learn, with a mixed degree of elation and sorrow that the fool has cancer. Lung cancer, fairly advanced, all due to second hand smoke. They say it's so bad he can't leave the hospital, so bad that he has, at most, six weeks. I knew everything that would happen that day...not because I'm psychic, just because I know. I decided to visit him, for Mary's sake...show that I had no hard feelings, contrary to what he may feel toward me. It's truely a saddening sight. One person, hooked up to a multitude of machines, compuers, LED readouts, tubes, wires, compressors, intraveinous lines...he's wasted away, skin and bone and cancer, all in a white hospital gown. He speaks in whispers, but each word carries venom. He tells me to fuck off, tells me to leave him alone, that he doesn't need my god damn pity. I ignore him. With my head bowed, I ask one simple question...
"Who is your worst enemy?"
If he could smile, laugh even, he would have done so...he weakly points to me, and whispers my name, and adds more, saying why he hates me, saying that she, Mary, always loved me more. It's more than what I wanted, but, he named his foe. I spread my fingers over his chest, not touching him, but willing his cancer, his parasitte, out into theair. It thrashes wildly, like it has it's own mind, acting like a infant being wretched from a breast. I swallow down the lump in my throat, and focus, turning his parasite into my parasite. For a few seconds, as it latches onto my insides, I live in nothing less and absolute agony. When it is over, my breath grow heavy, and I stagger out of the room.
******
I did it all for her. Let him live for her. I lasted a bit longer than six weeks...two months to be exact. They were married during those months, and Mary knew why I didn't show, why I couldn't be there. And I'm sure when I passed, he was secretly overjoyed, silently cheering at the removal of his greatest enemy. She cried. She cried. Its amazing what someone will do for love.

-- Zero_6ix (Zero_6ix@hotmail.com), July 20, 2002

Answers

Woah. Zero, that is deep. That's some powerful stuff, man. I love it. You ever consider a career in writing? Because I think you've be great, seriously.

-- Spawn_of_Piccolo (disgruntledfemale01@yahoo.com), July 20, 2002.

Personally knowing the Author, I feel I have a bit of insight on this story...And I love it, it touches me deeply and saddens me...I would have let the fucker die, he wasn't good to Mary, if the hero of the story had been a little more concious of what was right, rather than what he thought was right....he would have lived and let the fiancee die...Mary loved him and he should have just been with her...She lost the most amazing person in her life, and was left with a man that will no doubt beat her and might even kill her one day out of jealousy...I love the story and I hate it at the same time...Zero is an amazing writer, this is a wonderful story...Bravo, darling....

-- Dawn (darkdeathanie@hotmail.com), July 20, 2002.

I agree.

-- ArchPyro (ZemoruePyxil@aol.com), July 20, 2002.

Thanks everyone, and yes, Dawn has -lots- of insight into the three characters...lots. And I am going to college for creative writing, and am also working on a book...the muse for that project comes and goes...maybe one day I'll get around to posting excerpts.

-- Zero_6ix (Zero_6ix@hotmail.com), July 21, 2002.

*hugs Zero tight* You'll make a very successful author. And you'd damn well better sign all of the books for me!

-- Angel (keita@my.sanguinus.com), July 23, 2002.