Tranquility

When asked "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?", a good many people say "I'd want to read people's minds." After all, it seems like an ideal power to have. You could know answers to test without having to study or win big in poker by knowing everyone's hands. Untold riches by simply reading the right person's mind.

But, what if you couldn't turn it off?

What if every moment of every day, you were hearing countless voices that weren't your own? Every personal thought, dirty secret, and rude remark left unsaid. You'd know right away that your spouse was lying to your face and every little flaw people saw in you.

Nothing could be hidden from you.

Well, that's exactly why Daryl has chosen to live deep in the woods all on his own. He found out as a child that the farther you were from people the less likely you were to hear their thoughts. So the first chance he got, he packed his bags, and moved as deep into the woods as he could, and as far away from anybody else.

Never the less, hearing others thoughts was daunting and drove him to heated outburst when people would silently judge him. Those outbursts and his reclusive nature have earned him the reputation of being a wild man. People only saw him as an uncivilized, filthy, mountain man that lost track with reality.

In truth, Daryl was quite adapted at living off the land and rarely needed to go into town for anything. On the off chance he did need to go to town, he would make the trip quick and those in town knew to avoid him. There seem to be a mutual understanding between him and the others that if they left him alone, he would get what he needed and be gone.

So he expected this visit to go just like all the others before. He would head into town in his beat-up truck and try to ignore the voices of panicking judgment in his ears. Get the things he needed for the next month or two, and leave before the stuff people thought got the best of him and he would snap.

So far, all was going well. He'd gone to the hardware store and managed not to roll his eyes at the lady thinking, "I hope he doesn't attack someone with that hammer." And he'd gone to the pharmacy and ignored the old man thinking, "I bet he's got a meth lab going in the woods." He had just one last stop, the general goods store, to pick up the last things on his list.

He was walking down the street to the store when a young woman ushered her child to the other side, when he hears, "Best not look at my child you freak."

That was it! You can think of him as a murder or even a drug dealer, but Daryl was not going to stand being thought of as a child abuser.

Daryl stopped and whipped around to tell the lady that he was no pedophile and that she should be ashamed of such a snap judgment. Yet, before he could open his mouth, or even focus his sights on her. His vision was blocked by another face crashing into his.

"Son of a bitch!" he yells out while cupping his throbbing nose. "Jesus Christ! How about you watch where you're going!"

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" the man says, "You're not bleeding are you?"

Daryl pulls his hand back to see his hand was clean, "No, no I think I'm alright."

The man sighs, "That's good! I thought I might have broken it. I've been told I'm a bit of a hard head." He laughs at his own joke. "But as long as you're okay,"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He looks over at the man and then realizes that this whole time he hadn't heard a single thought of the man's. Nothing. No smart remark, no fearful plea, no silent relief, nothing. He was just standing there with his pleased but still concerned expression.