A Life to Live

Intro

"You really want to know?" I couldn't hide my enthusiasm.

"You really want to know what's going on in my head right now. You really do eh? Well I'll tell ya! Hatred, fear, death, suffering, guilt, loneliness, and sadness, I've experienced it all. "

I have hated the reason why I was brought forth into this world since I can recall. I fear of losing my friends, family and loved ones because of what I am. The monster inside of me, and the mistakes I've made so far in this pathetic excuse I call a life. Personally I have always been shrouded in "The Cloak of Death." It seems that wherever I tread on this world, death follows in my footsteps. A reminder of what I am; what I was made for.

~OoOoOoO~

The elderly looking, grey haired African American reporter named Ray Hatchet was in the middle of a heated interview with me, about my status in this world. Everyone except for some of my closest friends were the only ones who were not against me. The rest of the world wanted me dead.

Stillness engulfed the cozy interview. Ray finally broke the silence when she asked, "Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

"You all want to know what my opinion is on this subject. Do you really think that I want to be rejected by the entire world? Of course not! All I want is the people of this world to respect my presence, that's it. I could care less if they don't like me. All I want is respect, nothing else."

"So do you think that the American people have given you this, respect?" The tone Ray said "respect" in irritated me. Lovely now I'm pissed.

"No I believe the people have not. I believe they judge me for what I am and what I'm capable of. People fear me." A hint of anger was obviously noticed in my tone. Ray was starting to become intimidated by my presence. A beat of sweat trickled down her brow. I chuckled.

Leaning forward in my chair, looking into her misty blue eyes that shone from the fluorescent light above, I saw a terrified little girl when lowering my voice to an almost inaudible tone, I stated, "They fear me because I have unnatural powers that a normal human being is not supposed to have. They fear of what I could do and cando."

An eerie silence fell upon the room. The hush of the room was so great, that the rolling of the video equipment off stage could be heard. Falling back into the studio's faded striped orange pattern of the chair, I folded my hands, waiting for the initial shock to pass.

Ray was distraught after those words that rode bluntly along my lips. She fluttered her eyelids, coming back into reality. "A-As I have been informed, that is exactly why the public is—"

"Fed up with me." I brusquely stated. A smirk fell upon my face.

"Well, I suppose it is time…" Slowly rising from my seat, I straightened out myself in a seemingly calm matter. I extended my left hand to "thank" the experienced reporter. Hesitantly, Ray extended her hand and cowardly saying, "T-Thank you for t-this interview."

~OoOoOoO~

The intense light of the sun blazed above me when I set foot outside. I squinted as my eyes traced out the tall translucent black rectangular blobs in the foreground. Outside seemed like a war zone compared to the nearly soundproof interview I just came out of. The city folk's jumbled vulgar shouts and complaints caught my attention. As my view finally cleared up, all I could see is the crumpled, stained black carpeting of the walkway that was in front of CNN headquarters. Apparently the police didn't do their job protecting the vinyl carpeting. Hump pathetic excuse for a task force.

Carelessly ambling my way down the dirtied up rug, I noticed to my left and right, that there was an endless "mob o' people". No wonder why New York seemed so… Lively I thought to myself.

"WE DON'T NEED YOU!!"

"MURDERER!!"

I did not even give the effort to try and look at the rioting crowd. Even though I would gladly blast them, along with half of the population in the U.S. off the face of the planet—Sigh, every fricken day I ponder the rationale behind the reason why I choose to stay on this God forbidden planet.

"Bastards…" I mumbled beneath my breath.

I continued along my acquired target. A sleek, silver and blue colored space craft called an Arwing.

My method of transportation is unusual compared to the preferred vehicular mode. Aka: driving a car technique. This model is more updated than those used by Fox and his Crew. I personally modified the Arwing to my likings by amping up its thrust capacity, firepower, and shielding. Even the ship itself was expanded by a good 20 feet so that I could carry more than just a few people.

Encased around my Arwing were the ever increasing rioters who wanted to give me a piece of their mind. Ignoring them, I climbed the right wing of my craft and effortlessly mounted in the pilot's seat. After closing the translucent aqua canopy, I fired up the duel plasma engines and vertically took off from the arranged platform that CNN had so graciously provided for my Arwing. Hovering for a few seconds I sighed noting the ring that was around my Arwing, now developed into a overcrowded circle below my craft.

I was at least 50 feet from the surface; I could still distinctly see the anger and hatred brewing among the people's faces below. A mournful expression dominated my face as I blasted off towards the only place that I knew I was truly accepted for what I have done to help for the good of others, home.

~OoOoOoO~

Flying overhead, I peered down at my hidden landing platform. From a untrained eye, it would appear like a huge hill. Covered with multi-colored wildflowers, and long, healthy green grass, a portion the size of a private jet plane opened up. Making sure no one was around with a quick scan of the area, I gently guided my glistening Arwing into the hanger bay.

The twilight from the sky once around my aircraft and I eventually vanished. The bay that was once flushed with a beautiful hue of gold orange that shone off of all of the spare pieces of scrap metal that cluttered the floor, turned dark and decrepit just like an abandoned catacomb. A chill always seemed to overcome my body every time I landed. Too many painful memories, this feeling reminded me of…

My Arwing, stayed active only until the bay doors came to a complete close. A booming "THUD" was the signal to power down. Carefully I set my Arwing down on the launch pad facing the entrance to the outside that was now nowhere to be found. Steam from the landing gear filled the floor of the bay. I fell back in the pilot's seat. For some strange reason instead of opening the now opaque black canopy, I remained in my seat, thinking. I do not know why I did this but I began to think of my mom and friends. I really do not know exactly why I was meditating about that subject. I shook my head trying to snap out of my unexpected trance.

"No… Not now." I thought to myself out loud.

~OoOoOoO~