Dear Elle:
I am really sorry, but if you are reading this, it means I have killed myself, and most probably I have done it in front of yourself. And if everything went according to my plan, I smashed my frozen head on the floor, scattering my brain cells so neither you nor any of your company will be able to study it. I also did what I did hoping the vision would shock you, and trigger something, anything in your mind about me.
The reason of this letter is to answer the question you did to me, the first time you went to see me in my cell, in that company of yours. "Do you know me?" I answered that I did, but I also said I did not recognized you anymore. That is because I didn't. But I met you, and I also knew you would not remember me. You said so yourself, when you prompted me to go running away from my house, telling me even that my parents were dead, in order to make me leave town as soon as possible. But that is not what this letter is for. It is to try and make you remember how we met, how we dated, how we loved each other. I know, probably at this moment you are thinking this is a lie, that you should put this down and forget about it, that is some sort of strategy against you or your company. But, think, I am dead right now. What can I get?
Yes, we met before. We met in San José, California, my home town. We met at my school, a small High School where you showed up as a transfer student from Odessa, Texas. I was just sixteen, you said you were so yourself. You were lying, I could tell, but you were beautiful. Really beautiful. I think I fell in love with you the very same day I laid my eyes upon you. You tried to befriend me. But you were weird. It was like you never had had any contact with guys our age. I freaked.
Oh, and there were my powers. I just had discovered them, so I basically wasn't socializing a lot. I was scared, I was freaked, and I feared I would hurt somebody. I already was an oddball, I already was alone, and yet I managed to be even lonelier. I would go away from those who barely understood me in order to practice my abilities, to try and understand them, to try and control them. Even though I was young, I was already skilled in the area of researching, so it did not take me long to understand the nature of my skill: I could control molecular kinetic energy; some sort of thermokinesis, for the will of my thought would control the temperature of anything I wanted to alter. I was clumsy, at the beginning; I believe so were you with your ability at the time. I would do ice walls when I got freaked, I would make water boil in just seconds when I wanted some tea, I would make leaves get on fire when I sneezed; I had no control on my powers. But slowly I learned to control them, and soon not only would I cook sans stove or oven, manipulating the heat at my will.
And you were following me. As soon as I gained some sort of control, I realized I could sense people's temperature. And oh god, you were hot. Perhaps it was that you were different, like me. Or that your body held a lot more electricity than others. But your temperature was above any other I felt in the school. And that was what made me realize you were following me. I would feel your temperature, your presence, your body following me around. I grew suspicious immediately, but damn, I was so in love I would not dare confront you. I followed you as well. But you were good. All I could find out is that you reported to someone else. Like that was an improvement.
So I decided to talk to you. But I decided it would not be on your terms, where you could control everything.
I remember that day. For me, it still feels like yesterday.
The tall, blonde girl moved her head, to the left, to the right, searching frantically for the boy she was supposed to be tailing. Nobody, nobody had ever eluded her before. It was the first time ever, and she didn't like it. She was pissed, and she was scared. Scared of what her daddy would say to her if he found out.
So she immersed herself in the sea of people, those stupid humans who had nothing to do at the moment but shop, and would do it so stupidly, like if their lives were on the edge because of it. She hated those kinds of people, because those kinds of people were who would attack her because of who she was.
But they were not important at the moment; she had to find the boy. She did not even like him: he was too skinny, his skin was brown, his hair was all messy, he had acne, and his braces even worsened the geek appearance he already possessed. She, of course, had to pretend she liked him in order to get closer to him, but it hadn't worked. It was like he knew who she was. And he was hiding from her. It could not be.
"Behind you"
She heard his whisper; he had leaned so close in her ear, approaching from the back. She hadn't listened? So stupid, she should have. Furious with herself, she started to form a bolt in her hand.
"Uh-uh. Too much people, too many witnesses. You wouldn't dare, would you?"
"You know?"
"I know you are special, just like I am. I did not know… how special you were"
"What do you want?"
"Turn around.
She did, slowly. Carefully. She was expecting him to hold some sort of weapon, or to be ready to attack her somehow. She was not expecting what she saw.
When she finally turned, she saw the boy –the same boy- she had just described in her head completely changed. He had combed his hair, slickly to the back, giving him a slightly older appearance. He had his braces, but he had changed them to a transparent version, invisible but to the keen eye. He had cleansed his skin, there were not marks of acne visible, his skin was slightly lighter –was it makeup? His glasses were gone, and he had chosen his outfit carefully. She was sure he was not wearing –not even looking like that when he had gone out of his house that Saturday morning. Had she lost him so long he had time to hide in the bathroom, change his clothes and apply makeup? She was so astounded; she even held her mouth open. He smiled nervously.
"So, what do you think?" He was nervous. She did not know what he meant. She just managed to close her mouth. "Nothing to say?"
"What am I supposed to say?"
"Well… do you like it? I spent twenty-five minutes in the bathroom in order to look like this"
"Am I supposed to like it? What do you want?"
"Ehm… well… a date"
"A date?" She scoffed. He folded up his arms, nervousness all gone.
"Hey, you are the one who pretended to like me the first couple of weeks you arrived!"
"You… you knew I was pretending?"
"Gosh, it was obvious. I mean, you look like some sort of freak who hasn't had contact with human beings your age since… well, I have no idea"
He had used the word freak, a word she loathed because it was always referred to the fact she had powers. But the way he had used it, it was not because of that. It was for a completely different reason, and she suddenly did not hate the word so much. Besides, he looked way cuter like that. What was she thinking?
"And now you are asking me out because…?"
"Heh, well, I do fancy you… it's just that you were acting all weird… and then you were following me and that shit…"
"You… you know?" What had happened? She was excellent at tailing people, she had always been able to follow them undetected, even professionals… How had this kid known?
"Yeah…. I mean, after I finally got this thing of sensing people's heat, you were obvious, perhaps is that electricity thing you do…"
She breathed. She hadn't done anything wrong.
"C'mon. Will you say yes?"
She looked up to him, she did not understand. Was he serious?
"I'm serious. I mean, you are tailing me so you need information, and I'm a sixteen year old kid who fancies an older woman. Don't you say you are sixteen, somehow I know you are not. But… you are not that old!" He changed his mind about saying that as soon as he saw the look in her eyes, typical of a girl hiding her age. After all, she was a woman.
And then, she realized she was thinking that. She was a woman. And was being asked out by a boy who suddenly looked better than before, older than before, even cuter than before. Who had groomed himself in order to make himself appealing to her. She did not know what to do. She had never been asked out before. Hell, she had never been with someone those ages excepting when she had to tail Clare Bennet, and that went awful.
She stood there, thinking. But she realized she was thinking nothing at all.
He knew. He held his hand, calling for hers.
"C'mon, one date. If it works… well, we'll see"
She held his hand. He smiled. She smiled.
"Want a slurpee?"
I don't know if you said yes just because you would get information out of me in an easier way. But that day was probably the best of my life. You were charming, cute and easygoing in an "I've never played with people before" way, and I tried to do my best. Your memory holds that award for me.
And things just… snowed-balled. I tried everyday to look my best just for you, and suddenly you tried to behave yourself the best, apparently just for me. We would eat together lunch in the cafeteria, where we would be talking about us (at least, what you could tell me without feeling you were betraying the guys you were working for), or the other kids at school, or the plans we would have about going to the movies and stuff. I would talk about my power, what I knew about it. You would talk about yours, what you could reveal about it. Suddenly, we were the "In" couple in school, everybody was gossiping about us, and we liked it. Well, at least I did. And you surely looked like you did too.
Time passed. And in the blink of an eye, a year had almost gone from our hands. I was happy. You seemed happy. I had told you everything about me, thinking you would never betray me.
You did.
But you wouldn't let me go down. You came at night, that cursed Friday night to my house, banging the door so viciously I thought you were going to blast it down. You were scared.
"Elle! What's going on? You know I am grounded, I was not supposed to see you tonight. If my parents find out…"
"Anthony, shut up and listen! They are coming to get you! The guys I work for!"
"What…?" The boy held a nervous smile, trying to see if she was joking. She wasn't. "This is not because we ahm… you know… that night?"
"What? No! Anthony, understand! They are coming to get you, because of what we are!"
"What? Elle, calm down. Please!"
She didn't. Quite the opposite, she broke.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! You have been so nice, you must think the worse of me" Half the words she said could not be understood, immersed in the tears she cried. She hugged him, desperate. But he wouldn't move. "Don't you understand? You. Have. To Go!"
"No. I'll fight." He looked at her with steel-like eyes, resolution made. He loved her so much he would not give their relationship up. "I'll make… a heat-wave, or some sort of thermal shield. Something that would fry them up. You know I can do that."
"You can't. They… they have this guy, a Haitian, he can lower powers down, make them useless. They've used him on me, I know."
The despair she was feeling, slowly he would feel it as well.
"But… my mom, my dad? They know about my powers…"
"They'll kill them"
"What If I surrender? What If I go with them?"
"No, you won't! They would do all this kind of tests on you, they could even lobotomize you! You would end up being something useless, a drone, a zombie, or something like that. I don't want you to become that!"
"But I'll be with you… and my parents would be safe…"
"I am not important! And your parents…" she doubted, she did not want to go there… but he had to be safe, he had to go away… she had to make him go away… "They already gave the order. They are probably dead by now"
"What…?"
He stood there, dumbstruck… he had never thought of his life without his parents, even less the idea of them dead because of him. He felt like he had murdered them with his own hands.
"Anthony, please, Go!"
"I…" he stuttered. He hadn't since he was 10, when he had entered the drama club, and forced it out of his brain "I-I have n-no money… n-nowhere t-to go… maybe m-my aunt's…"
"No. Don't go with anyone who might know you, anyone you might have mentioned to me, don't. I… I've told them everything… Here, I thought of the money, I could gather this" She pressed an envelope in his chest. It contained a couple thousand dollars, all the money she stolen from the Company "Please…"
"How much time do I have?"
"What? Go now! We've wasted too much time here!"
"Buy me ten minutes. If I go straight to the airport or the bus station, they'll track me. I need ten more minutes."
"What are you…?"
"Never mind, go get me ten minutes. Wait, how will I contact you? How will I tell you where I'll be? How…?"
She was sad again, crying again. She held his face with her hand; gave him a passionate kiss and broke it with a tear
"No… I… They'll make me forget you… the same guy I was talking about… has the power to make people forget… they'll use him on me, if you escape… I'll be a failure, remember?"
"What? You are not a failure!" He seemed offended by the idea "But… Elle… please…" The look in her face hardened, and she slapped him…
"Don't you see I am doing this to save you? What do I have to do!?"
He cried. But his face hardened, and looked back to her.
"OK. Go buy me ten, twenty minutes. When they arrive, I'll be gone for good." The voice he used to say that was so cold, she even trembled. But then he softened "If you can't remember me… if you are not allowed to remember me… please, remember the first thing that I bought you… a slurpee. Promise me you will"
"I… I…" she looked at him, and all her doubts faded. No matter how permanent were the Haitian's powers, she would remember that all her life. "I promise" She kissed him again, and ran away. He got inside the house.
I knew if I bought a plane ticket they would track me, and they would probably had people on the bus station. I went to my room, grabbed some stuff, packed it and went to my neighbor's house. I knew he was in another of his businesses trips, and I knew where he had his spare key. I entered and took his car, driving away as normally as I could with all the emotions I was feeling. First I thought of going to Mexico, and try to live there, but I remembered telling you I had family there, so you probably had told them about it. So I decided to hide north. I drove to Los Angeles, left the car in a darkened alley with the keys in the engine, so it could be easily stolen, and went to LAX. There I bought a ticket to Boston. Before I got in the plane I made sure the airline computers fried, so no record of me would be left anywhere.
My life in Boston wasn't easy. As soon as I got down of the plane, I realized I had to forge myself a new identity. I had the money you gave me, it was quite a lot, but I knew I must not use it all right away. I found a small room in a phony part of the city, and found myself doing business with the phony man of the area.
The boy looked around. A few questions here, a few dollars there had informed him of that small café, where he could buy himself a new identity. Or so he was told. He took a deep breath, and entered.
The place was small, shabby, but had certain coziness. The lady behind the bar looked like anybody's granny, and had the look of someone once extremely beautiful, now just a memory of those times. He went straight to her, but seated nervously on the counter.
"My, my… what is doing a kid your age in a place like this? You sure you are not lost, my son?" The woman was very kind, but he heard a note that told him she was suspicious. She grabbed a cup and served him hot cocoa. He would not drink it yet.
"I… "He knew he had to word his thoughts carefully… he did not want too much attention drawn to him… "I need to buy something"
"What would that be, my dear?" The suspicion in her voice increased, aroused with curiosity.
"A name"
"Why would a boy like you need a new name?"
"I am running"
"What are you running from, dear?"
"Me" The answer was kind, scared, but terminal. She gave him a smile.
"Drink your cocoa, is on the house. I'll get someone who can help you"
He was too scared to drink, so he ignored the recommendation. He wanted to look around, for he had sensed a couple of people entering the building, but he decided he would do better if he moved the least possible. He heard voices, and suddenly the stool next to him moved to receive a man, barely thirty years old, gorgeous like his grandmother, well-built, a scar running through his face, right in the middle of the left eye. At the moment, he looked scary. But he smiled when he noticed the cup in the counter, untouched.
"You should drink that, Gran's cocoa is excellent, and she would get angry if you don't drink it. And you won't like her when she gets angry." As the kid would not move, he turned to look directly at him, and eyed the suspicion in him trying to hide the hunger. "It's just cocoa, don't worry"
The kid looked at him in the eye, and believed him. And drank.
"Now, business. Gran says you need a name."
"A whole new identity. Name, Social Security Number, papers, anything. I'm supposed to finish High School and I intend to do so"
"Whoa, wait kiddo! You know, that stuff is expensive. It's not like I'll whip a magic wand and create all of that. You need to pay me so I can give you that. Economy 101. Capitalism 101"
"I know that. I have no money."
"Then no deal. Why would you even…"
"I said I have no money, I did not say I wouldn't pay" The kid interrupted him, his face hard, concealing the fear he was feeling in the inside.
"And what can you give me, besides money?" He eyed the boy carefully. The kid smiled, and leaned to him. He leaned as well, so his ear would be next to his mouth.
"I can kill people"
"Anybody can kill people. Do you have the guts to do so?"
"Not just the guts, but I can make it undetectable" They were not showing each other faces, so he did not see the fear in the boys eyes when he said that, just as the boy could not see the awe the statement had made in his mind. But that was impossible…
"That is easy to say, easy to prove not possible. Give a demonstration" He had regained his posture, looking at the kid in the eyes. The kid looked positively convinced of being capable of doing so. But he was thinking hard.
"What about this? Give me someone to kill, in front of you if you want to, and I'll do it. If you are satisfied, you'll give my identity."
"Boy, if I am satisfied I'll make you a millionaire. When can you do it?"
"What about now? The guy who is about to enter is trembling from head to toe, so I presume he's supposed to pay you something, isn't he?" The man turned to see one of his debtors entering the building. For a moment he was about to asking how he had known, but then he saw his own reflection in the mirror behind the counter. Foolish, he thought. He swiveled in his stool and motioned to the guy to come close to them. The kid just sipped the cocoa as he talked with him, hearing the same excuse all over again, about how he could not pay. The problem was he owed him so much he would never be able to pay him, no matter how hard he tried. So, after dismissing him telling him he would wait another week, he turned to the kid.
"Fine, kill him now." The boy just sipped the cocoa, making him smile.
"How? Do you want him just dead, or completely vaporized?" The question scared him, but soon regained his senses. The man was up to the neck in debt because of his gambling problems, so he would not be missed by anybody.
"Vaporized"
"OK"
The poor guy vaporized just outside the café, with a cry that pierced everybody's soul. Well, their souls, not mine. Somehow I managed to convince myself that killing had become necessary if I wanted to survive. I had become some sort of animal, defending my life of those who wanted to hunt me.
The man not just accepted to give me a new identity, but build it to make me look part of his family, which apparently was famous in the area because of their crimes. That included not just a name, or paperwork to get in school: it evolved to become one of the most respected kids in the area just because of a name that wasn't mine, a name that inspired fear and carried power.
But they also became some sort of family to me. He would teach me to shoot a gun, to fight hand to hand, and to defend myself. His grandmother taught me to cook, to clean, to wash my clothes, all while she was telling me stories about her youth, when she had been a femme fatale herself, matriarch of that family I was accepted in.
But the acceptance came with the price. I became the last resort, as both of my methods of killing, even though untraceable, would call some of the attention because of their bizarreness. When the victim had people who would look for him, I would kill him by choking him with a block of solidified air, formed within his throat, accelerating the killing by the temperature it possessed, blocking nerves and senses. If the victim needed to be eradicated, I would vaporize his body, just like my first. I was never comfortable, but I never felt remorse. Something you taught me when I realized you lied to me about my parents to make run away.
I got in High School again, and got good results at the SAT. I wanted to get in the MIT, but I could not draw attention to myself by asking for Financial Aid. I needed not. They paid for everything, even room and books. "All part of the salary" they said, though I feel they did want me to go to college. Physics was my major, as I intended to study more the nature of my ability. They even reduced my job as a murderer, and I started to feel safe. To feel loved. To feel forgotten by you and your Company.
Of course I wasn't. You came for me, just a few weeks ago. You were so silent, not even my family could alert me on time. They did, but it was too late, you were on your way to get me, I could not get away anyhow and, most important of all, I could not hurt you. Not even to defend myself, not even to run away once more. I loved you so much, no, I love you so much you were a sight for my sore eyes, no matter what it meant seeing you again. I was stunned again. And you took advance, using your powers on me. All of them. And that is what landed me here.
Did I know you, Elle Bishop? Yes, I did. Even more, I loved you. And for a moment it seemed you loved me as well. That is why I could not let myself go without an explanation, but it had to be this way. I killed myself out not of fear, or hatred, or despair. I did it out of love, so you could be certain I would not become that you feared. I love you, Elle. I just hope you remember.
Forever yours.
Anthony.
