To Feel

Chapter 1

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I woke up just like every other day. Staring at the ceiling in my room trying to think, trying to understand; but I don’t and I can’t.

I usually spend hours doing this before I finally hear my parents stirring in the other room. Despite the fact that I stay up until 2 a.m. in the morning everyday, I can’t get my body to sleep longer than 3 hours; so I wait and listen and think in the quiet, trying to decide. It’s been weeks since I realized what I had to do. At first I had thought of it jokingly, how could I possibly do something like that? It was wrong. But as more time went by, the more the thought itched at me, the more I didn’t see it as wrong, but instead as something right. Something that would make everything that I couldn’t understand, everything that was hurting stop.

I had decided, and it had been done.

Today was the day I would get it. It had taken a long time to find what I was looking for, and I was glad that I had kept some of the money from when I was Kal to cover everything, for it was perfect. I really had been lucky, but then again, they say they have everything on ebay. I had figured I could find some rock easily enough around here, the problem was the blade. I didn’t want it to be some kitchen knife that mom would be looking for in a day. This would be my salvation, and I wanted it with me always. But as I said, I had been lucky enough to find a blade with the actual rock on it. The crafter had made a very beautiful piece, a normal black blade for the most part, but with a thin covering of meteor rock that had been melted down, giving the black blade a green sheen. It had cost a lot, and it had cost even more to request that the sheath it was in to be made of lead or at least lined in it, but obviously necessary.

So finally after waiting it would be here, today I would have my relief.

***

As the sounds began in the other room I got up as well and started with my shower leaving just enough time to get dressed and head down for breakfast.

Standing in a shower was always painful, but obviously not physically. I never knew what temperature it was at, only the steam giving a vague idea; but should that be too hot? Would that burn someone… normal? Disgusted with myself again I turned it off and after drying pulled on my usual clothes.

Lex is constantly going on about how good silk feels against the skin. I just laugh and agree, telling him ‘I know’. But I don’t. It feels no different then the shirt I’m wearing now, it feels like nothing.

I can feel more of the frustration that never seems to leave me building up. I ball my fists in anger but there is no relief, never any.

My mother’s voice calls me from down stairs and so I close my eyes and bury it deep within in me with all the rest that has been building.

When I open my eyes they no longer show coldness and pain, but the normal joy you would find in a normal teenager. I rush down stairs, eat as enthusiastically as ever, and give the same fake smile that I have been giving to my parents… to everyone, for years.

When the chores are finished I’ve missed the bus as usual, after a quick ‘good-bye’ to my parents I run to school, and there begins the longest day of my life.

***

Every instance seemed to amplify the fact of my estrangement from the norm. By lunch I just wanted to run and leave this hell, but I continued to plaster on that fake smile, and be what they all wanted me to be; everything I am not.

My excitement was causing my control on my powers to slip a little. I gave a poor excuse to Pete and Chloe when they offered to go to the Talon, but I could care less, the only thing I cared about was going home and finding my relief.

I’m sure I made a new speed record on my way home, but it didn’t matter, my mind could focus on nothing but what I knew awaited me. When I pulled open the mail box I finally saw it. Such a small little thing, that means so much. I took it out slowly, leaving the rest of the mail, and after switching to x-ray vision just to make sure it was there, basically vanished to my fortress. The box was open before my actions had caught up with my mind, and the blade fell out into my hand. I couldn’t feel the coldness of the metal, barely even could register the weight in my hand. It was perfect, beautiful.

I gave the sheath a small tug, pulling it open and instantly began to feel the weakness grow in me. There was pain from the rock, put the fact that I could feel, the couch I was sitting on, the clothing on my body. It was worth the pain that came with it, and much more, but it still wasn’t enough. With my eyes staring unblinkingly at the blade I rolled up my left sleeve and then took the blade and letting it rest on my arm. I stared mesmerized by the green veins now prominent in my arm, before pressing into my normally unyielding flesh, only to watch it split open so easily. Watching the separation of skin was fascinating, but the blood that quickly welled up was even more striking. Suddenly it felt like I could breathe again, and with this new physical pain I had, the pain inside of me lessoned.

I couldn’t stop watching as my blood continued to roll down my arm, making designs as it went, dividing into two streams down my middle and index finger before dripping into a little puddle on the floor. The rush I felt was amazing, and I carefully made two more lines on my arm before I just sat and watched.

It was an hour later when I heard my mother and father coming back from town. I felt a slight twinge of panic, but was too relaxed from my recent experience. After quickly cleaning the blade, putting it back in its sheath was the most painful thing I had ever done. It was like tasting ambrosia and then going back to water. Everything was dead, I was dead again, and I almost wept at the thought. But I couldn’t let them know, they wouldn’t understand, they would try to take it away from me, and I didn’t think I could live with the thought of never being about to feel again. I slipped the blade into my pocket, deciding then that I would never be separated from the thing again. With the blade back in the sheath my arms had already healed, leaving a silver line that would be invisible unless you knew it was there and looked for it. Seeing the evidence of my reality disappear was almost as painful as putting the blade away. And I was deeply tempted to take the blade out again and making the marks reappear, but I couldn’t; not yet.

*****

Resuming the persona of the perfect farm boy, the perfect son, the perfect friend, and the perfect human was more difficult this time. Now knowing that I had a release from it all I wanted it more, now, forever… I could barely choke down pretending everything was great.

But I did, for weeks and weeks I continued pretending, the release the blade gave me being the only thing that got me through the day. I’d decided to collect some of my blood, not sure why, but if it was so hard to get to I figured it could be useful later. I was cutting a lot now, and I knew it should disturb me that I couldn’t go four hours without my blade, but I didn’t care. The hours I would spend reading late at night still happened, but now I would spend time cutting before I went to bed. Then again when I woke up in the morning; I would try to wait until lunch at school and escape to the restroom, but sometimes things were too much and I couldn’t make it. I no longer hung out with my friends after school, I went straight home and added a few lines to my arm. Before dinner I cut again, did some more homework, and then escaped again to find release from my torture.

People had begun to notice of course, not that I was cutting, but that something had changed. I was extremely careful about letting no one see my blade, intensely aware of where it was at all times. And though they weren’t noticeable, I began to wear long sleeve shirts, not like temperatures bothered me anyway.

The day that lighting struck Eric and I and transferred my powers over to him was the most exhilarating day of my life. For once everything was normal, I was normal. I bled, I got tired, I lived, I was human. I hardly had to cut those few days that I was free, but still enjoyed the look of my blood, and loved the fact that the cuts stayed with me. When Lex came to me that night wanting the truth, I was beyond tempted to tell him. Before I couldn’t get close to him because of my powers, but now that I no longer had them he wanted something I couldn’t give him, something that I didn’t know if I would ever have again. What could I tell him? Lex was the one thing that had made me stable while I had my powers, something that made me feel something even if I wasn’t sure exactly what. And for that, if I dared, I would have given him anything.

The day I got my powers back was the day I turned from my parents. My whole life they had been sprouting off about responsibility and doing good. They made me believe that I was responsible for whatever Eric did with the powers. And so blinded by foolishness, I stopped him and got my power back, and have regretted that action many times since. Getting my powers back was like having all of my senses suddenly shut down, no heat, no cold, no pain, no feeling at all. I couldn’t breathe, I could barely even think; I felt like throwing up, I needed my blade, I needed to know I was still alive, but I couldn’t yet… later.

***

My parents had tried to get me to go with them to the Farmer’s market again, but after what happened the last time, I begged off it, claiming that I had a project I wanted to finish. Last time I had had to go seven hours without my blade, it had been driving me insane. I was like a drug addict who needed their fix, I couldn’t stop twitching, scratching at my arm, my mind was barely thinking and I felt for sure that I would never feel again. When I had finally gotten a chance alone, I had done seven deep cuts diagonally up my arm, and was forced to put the blade away early because of the amount of blood I was loosing. I still had seven silver lines there, far more visible than any of the others, but still not eye catching luckily. So this time I wasn’t going to even entertain that situation, I know my dad had been upset about me shirking a responsibility, but I really didn’t give a fuck.

An hour and a half after my parents left I felt the need drawing me. I set the homework I was working on aside, and slid a glass jar from under the couch. In a second my blade was in my hand, green shinning up at me, and I cut in the first marks. As always the relief was instant, I felt grounded to this world and everything made since again. I stared hypnotized by my blood once again, too hypnotized to notice the person walking up the stairs.

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A/N: Please review and let me know what you think!