Desired Life

Chapter 10: Love Is Dead (Part 1)

I'm breaking up this chapter into about three parts because it's going to be around 30 pages long, and I don't want to bore you with so much swiping (if you're on your phone) or so much scrolling and clicking (if you're on a computer, laptop, etc.). Hope you enjoy it all :D 

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Chapter 10: Love is Dead

    I stand up and turn around to look back at my friends. They sit there, unbeknownst to what I just perceived. Ken has tears rolling down his face, which could be acting, but it’s too quick to be actual acting or anything else.
  I start walking to the edge of the rooftop, and when I reach it, I look down at the street. Cars hustle on the streets, though there are a small number of them. Most of the city is dark because of the people asleep. Flashes of light burn bright because of the lampposts situated every few yards apart from each other. I watch from the corner of my eye and sight Diane gazing coldly at me. Hate burns on her eyes, which does nothing more than hurt me.
  I spin on the spot and jump from the rooftop. I would teleport on any other occasion, but I feel like flying this time. I try to turn into any bird, but as my mind tries to convince myself of transforming into a bird, it is blocked with memories of Dean.
  I can’t just leave Dean here. I just can’t. He’s one of my best friends, and I am planning on leaving him here? That’s not okay for a friend to do. But then again, I can’t really use my powers right now, since all these feelings are too overwhelming to let myself gain control over my powers.
  The ground is coming closer as each second passes, and I am only closer to my death. My arms start flapping, trying to stop my fall. I am scared of what may happen if this doesn’t stop. But just at the right time, I am thrown sideways, picked up by some running figure. Orson drops me on the floor as I stand up and breathe heavily, my chest heaving with my short, rapid inhales and exhales. My asthma doesn’t help me catch my breath. I can smell blood when I inhale, and I can also feel my throat itching. Orson stares at me and asks, finally speaking his mind out, “What did you do right now?”
  “I jumped and tried to transform, but there’s something stopping me from using my powers to full length,” I confess.
  “It’s Dean, right?” Orson inquires after a short while of silence.
  I nod, and I already feel tears trickling down my cheeks. Orson lifts my head up and says, “Hey, listen to me. You are stronger than this. I have lost all of my family and childhood friends. The world doesn’t end here. It keeps going on for us. It won’t just stop for you.”
  “You want me to tell you a fact? The world is a bitch,” he adds.
  I chuckle at the comment, and I can feel some pressure leaving me. It feels good to laugh, but I still can’t fathom how he is happy after everything that has happened.
  “How come you are still happy after everything?” I request.
  He sighs, and after a couple of minutes of thinking, he answers, “It’s not easy to keep a smile on your face after something bad has happened, I must confess. But you don’t live to for yourself, so you must look at other’s faces. Other happy people and, happiness becomes contagious. I mean, at first, you hate happy people, because, I mean, how come they enjoy life when you are slowly dying inside?
  “It’s not something to which I can answer right away. It takes some thinking. Another thing you have to do is not care about the world. At all. It helps clear your mind and get things straight. Then, you think about your friends, and how they should be happy, and about their happiness as well. You think that if you are happy, maybe they will be happy too.
  “If they are sad, you should try to comprehend them and support them. Cheer them on in life, I mean, that’s no easy shit. If life was easy, then everyone would be happy. But nobody is happy everywhere. At least not at the same time. It’s fathomable if you feel like you want to die or just crawl into a hole and never come out, but hey, just look at the randomness of nature and at its beautifully horrible randomness.
  “Life is another thing as well. Life, as I would define it, is a beautifully horrible gift. It’s beautiful because it’s full of gleeful surprises and happy shit, but it sucks big time because it just keeps kicking you off the ground. It’s beautifully horrible because you can choose to stand up and keep on, fighting against the hideousness of life; or you can just lay there and wither away. Either way is not going to be happy all the way through.
  “So John, whenever you feel like committing suicide, think about everything else, except yourself. That’s enough as too punch some sense into you before you do anything recklessly stupid. Keep a straight smile, and maybe, just maybe, it will make you and others happy. Chances are it will. But you never know. Just try it.”
  Orson looks at me and smiles. I can already feel his contagious happiness spreading into me. But then, the image of Dean dying in my arms goes back to my mind and I just feel cold hatred in me. I can feel my emotions raging war inside myself as happiness and hatred rise against each other in a harmful never-ending war. Finally, happiness beats my hatred, and a smile flashes on my face. I walk around the building and say goodbye to Orson. Since I’m not sure whether I can use my powers with my little stability at the moment, I just walk back home.
  When I am halfway through the walk home, I remember that I just teleported out of my house and everybody thinks I’m in my room. Therefore, I call Hansel. Hansel quickly picks up; his voice sounds scratchy.
  “Yeah?” He asks.
  “Um...I wanted to ask a favor of you...” I start saying.
  “And what is that favor?” he clears his throat and sighs.
  “Could I...sleep in your room with you?” I request, almost scurrying away.
  “Why?” He sounds oblivious and surprised by my request.
  “It happens to be that my parents think I am in my room. I’ll have to ask Maia later for help in making my parents think that they gave me permission. But for the meantime, I need your approval,” I reply.
  “Sure,” he answers me.
  “Okay, thanks, bye,” I quickly murmur, hanging up after saying goodbye.
  I run all the way back, but as I am running, I feel a familiar fire kindling inside me. It’s weak, but it’s still enough as to reassure me that I’m not totally destroyed on my inside. I can feel my powers regenerating deep within me.