This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/IvorFreyrsson on 2024-12-25 05:48:21+00:00.
“I… I need to go.” I moved to stand, but Anna clung tighter to me.
“Please don’t go.” Her voice was small and soft, making my brain war with my heart on just what action to take.
I reached down and gently took her small hand in mine. “Anna, please,” I whispered, my throat tight.
I felt her fingers dig into my belly painfully as she shook her head against my back. I could feel my shirt growing damp where her face rested against my warming body. “No, Jack. Please stay,” she sniffled.
I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, struggling to force my breathing to be even. It was a losing battle that I valiantly fought to the end. Eventually, I opened my eyes to the ceiling, feeling the scalding tears course down my cheeks, blurring my vision. “Why? Why couldn’t they all just leave me alone?” I whispered to the air.
As if on cue by a sadistic ringmaster, my memory assaulted me with the faces of those I’d killed. From Marge to the many nameless faces I’d killed just to stay alive while I was homeless and wandering, all the way back to just a few days after graduation. Michael Algoode. A kid with an equally useless power at the time. All he could do was change the color of something. From whatever to whatever.
See, by the end of school, I’d already found that my doors could breach walls and buildings. A somewhat useful ability, but one that was overshadowed by so many others. But not to Michael. He was jealous; and like most jealous kids, he wanted what he couldn’t have. But, as everyone knows, abilities can’t be given or traded. So, he opted for the second approach.
If he couldn’t have it, nobody could.
He cornered me late one evening outside near the slums. I’d gone for a walk to clear my head after panhandling on a corner, heading to a defunct warehouse near the docks that I had been using for shelter.
“Well, if it isn’t the doormat. What’s wrong, Doormat? Parents don’t love you? Nobody there to take a loser like you in?” He snickered, thinking he was clever.
“Come on, Mike. I just wanna go to sleep, man. Can you leave off for the evening?” I remember shifting to my left, trying to keep him in the streetlight.
“You wanna sleep, loser? You don’t deserve that power, you know. Maybe I should let you sleep for good. Let that power go to someone who doesn’t suck at everything.” A knife slipped into his left hand. It glinted in the streetlight.
“Dammit, Mike. Leave me alone.” I held my hands up and started to back away, knowing that I could never outrun him. He had been one of our top sprinters.
“You know you’ll never get out of here alive, don’t you? And your lame ass can’t even fight back. Good thing nobody’ll miss you.” He swiped at my eyes a couple of times in quick succession.
I couldn’t help myself. I turned and ran. I could hear him laughing at me as he chased me, felt my shirt get sliced into ribbons with him just a hairsbreadth from doing me any serious harm. Every so often I felt a hot lance of pain swipe across my back as the tip of his knife scored my tender flesh. Just enough to spur me on.
Eventually I got winded, and tripped over a curb, sliding face first across the concrete. Mike kicked me in the side until I turned onto my back. I saw him brandishing the knife in a duelist’s grip, a bloodthirsty grin on his face.
It was the last time he ever smiled. It was also the first time I found out I could create a door not just on a building, but on a person.
A small door appeared on his shoulders, bisecting his head from his body. I saw his eyes roll back in his head as he fell, the door crashing open, arterial blood spurting across the cars and the street. I vomited next to his still-warm corpse in horror. What had I done*?*
Knowing I’d be suspected if it were found, I dissolved my door, and took the knife from his twitching hand. It now rests in a very secure and special place that I try to never visit.
I ran all the way to my hiding spot near the docks, the image of Michael’s headless corpse forever burned into my brain. I opened a door in the side of the building and darted inside, tears streaming down my face. I dropped the knife just inside the building, and collapsed into a sobbing mess.
I couldn’t bring myself to leave the warehouse for days, certain the police were just outside, waiting to pick me up. I’d just killed a man. Sure, I’d done it out of desperation, to preserve my own life. Certainly it could be justified. My shredded shirt and scored flesh were proof enough of the intent behind Michael’s murderous rage. It still didn’t sit well with me then, though. I’d killed someone. Only bad people did that. I wasn’t a bad person, was I? Was I?
I didn’t know then, and I still didn’t know now. The string of bodies I’d left in my wake was proof enough that I had a screw loose. Right? Yesterday, I’d have said yes.
Now, though? I wasn’t so sure.
I slowly brought myself under control over many long minutes, with Anna clinging to me in her death grip. I heard Bethany’s chair slide across the floor and a few moments later, an ice pack was draped across my face. I heard the subtle creaking of wood as Bethany reassumed her seat, then her chair scooted some more and I felt her cold hands take mine and place them on the ice pack.
“Take your time, Jackson. We aren’t going anywhere, and if my little Anna has anything to say about it, neither are you.”
I felt my midsection quiver as my surroundings slammed back into me, realization of what was happening finally entering my awareness. Anna, her tiny, sensitive hands gently caressing my roiling muscles still sat behind me, my anchor to the here and now.
I pressed the ice pack into my face, willing it to leech the excess warmth from me. I felt raw, weak and most of all, I felt exhausted. I sat that way, face tilted to the ceiling, until I felt that my breathing had become more regular and even, and only then did I let my neck relax, even as my breath hitched once or twice. I shifted, gently displacing Anna, and planted my elbows onto the table and rested that way, my face buried in my hands, for a few minutes more.
Anna refused to leave me be, and forced her way into my lap, where she sat, her head resting on my shoulder, as mine slowly buried its way into her neck. She was gently rubbing my back as tears silently rolled their way down my cheeks. After a few minutes, I slowly sat up straight, looking at her sad face. She reached up and carefully wiped a few stray tears from my cheeks with her thumbs.
“Hi Jack. Welcome back. Beth’s right. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. No more running. No more hiding. Okay, honey?”
I nodded, sniffling. “Yeah. Okay.”
“She’s right, Jackson. I’m… I’m sorry to have brought this up and ruined dinner.”
In response, I held out my arm, and motioned her closer. Once she was in range, I swept her into a gentle hug. “Thanks Bethany. You… You didn’t ruin dinner. My past did.” I directed my gaze to Anna. “I hope you understand better now just what you’re getting into, Anna. I’m broken. I’ve done terrible things in my past, and I’m not the most stable of people, nor am I one of the good ones.”
Anna took my cheeks in her hands and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re good enough for me, Jack. Remember that, okay? Even if you don’t feel like you’re good, remember that I think you’re good enough for me.”
“Yeah. You’re not so bad, Gigantor. I see why she cares so much for you.” She gave me a gentle squeeze.
I sniffled once and took a deep breath. “Alright, alright. Enough with the sappy stuff, okay? I ain’t used to it, and it’s kinda making me feel weird.” I opened my arm and Bethany stepped back a bit, but kept a hand on my shoulder.
Anna leaned back, her hands locked behind my neck. “You mean I gotta move?”
A thousand and one ideas raced through my head, and I grinned. “Nah. You’re tiny.” I stood, cradling her butt with an arm, hearing her delighted giggle, as I moved my chair with the other. “Now which way is the TV again?”
**********
“Rise and shine, Gigantor.” Bethany gently shook me awake.
I blinked several times and stretched languidly. “Hrmm? What- what’s going on?”
Anna placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of my face. I gratefully took the bitter, black, lifegiving brew, sipping it gently. “It’s about nine in the morning, Jack. You passed out on the couch, and neither of us had the heart to wake you. Besides, you looked awful cute all curled up there.” Her impish smile brought a similar one to my own face.
I sipped more of the coffee. “So… now what?”
Anna came around and sat beside me, shrugging her shoulders. “I dunno. What do you want?”
I yawned. “Well, what I want is breakfast. I don’t know what you ladies have here, but that’s what I want.”
Bethany smirked. “Well, I’m sure Anna has some eggs you could scramble.”
“Oh my god*, Beth!*”
I choked on the coffee, feeling scalding bean water shoot from my nostrils. Anna went crimson, hiding her face in her hands as Bethany clutched her sides, laughing loudly. It took me a few minutes to recover.
“While that would be enjoyable for us, I’m afraid it doesn’t answer the need for food,” I said, once I had recovered sufficiently.
Bethany snickered a bit more. “True. How about we go out for breakfast? My treat?”
I looked over at Anna, who shrugge…
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