The Stranger I Know

By Michael Weyer

I don't own Heroes and don't have much money so don't sue. Inspired by "Fallout," a short ditty that just struck me. All comments welcomed.

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I see him every day but it's not the same anymore.

He looks at me but it's not like before.

Before it was interest and not the kind I get from other guys.

Before it was concern, mixed with, okay, some freaky love of seeing me heal so fast from everything.

Before I could talk to him every day, confide in him, let him know how it felt to be a freak.

Before, he would answer me honestly, with some jokes thrown in and a few sci-fi references I didn't get.

Before I could count on him to be the one person who was real around here.

The one person who could be straight with me, who didn't try to hit on me.

The one person I could really call a friend.

But he's gone now.

Oh, he still shows up at school. I still see him around. I still wave and smile from time to time.

But he's not my friend now. He's a stranger.

As far as he's concerned, I haven't talked to him since sixth grade, let alone confided my biggest secrets.

He just frowns at me, wondering why I'm doing this. He wonders if this is some sort of complicated prank or if I've gone over the edge after what happened.

He doesn't think it's possible that a girl like me could want to talk with a guy like him.

He doesn't remember the long talks we've had.

He doesn't remember him giving me confidence.

He doesn't remember how he got me elected Homecoming Queen.

He doesn't remember being my best friend.

And the worst part is, I can't tell him. Because I have to make Dad keep thinking that I don't remember any of this and if he learns I'm hanging with him (and I'm sure he's got someone spying on me), he'll know I remember and he might try something a lot more extreme than Mr. Ecko Jr.

So I have to see him every day, this stranger who was my friend. It's bad enough for me but it's worse for him. He's more alone than ever. He was coming out of his shell with me, he was getting confident, he was actually talking to other people.

Now that's gone. He's back to the outcast he was when I asked him to tape me the first time.

Are you proud of yourself, Dad? Are you proud of what you've done? You've destroyed an innocent guy's self-confidence. You've reset him back to the loner he was. Worse yet, you've made him forget what I helped give him.

I'll never forgive you for this, Dad. Never.

You killed my friend, Dad.

And the worst part is that I have to see his corpse every day.

Every time I look into the eyes of my friend…

And see a stranger staring back.