Hope is a funny thing.
For so long it seemed like it had abandoned me...and I didn't get it back until the moment I was ready to give up on it forever.
Growing up, I always felt disconnected from everyone. Never had any lasting friends, never tried to establish long-term relationships with anyone. I have no one but myself to blame for that, I know, but I always longed for something anyway. I would even settle for simple approval.
So I fixed watches. I knew little about my father other than he was a watchmaker, and I thought that somehow if I could do the same thing, maybe I could earn his love. That he would be proud of me, even if I never saw him again. It was the only thing I could think of that might help me find some kind of self-worth.
But it just didn't satisfy.
After years of living a quiet life of fixing watches, my mother's nagging words began to dig at me, deeper and deeper. She always told me she loved me, but I knew she was disappointed with what I had made of myself. I didn't dream big, so she did it for me. She wanted great things for me, wanted me to be somebody...but it wasn't what I wanted. And the more she pushed for her vision, the more I grew to resent it. I just couldn't be what she wanted me to be.
I found myself living alone, visited only by customers. Eating, sleeping, working. I had only routine to comfort me.
When a man named Chandra Suresh came into my life and told me that I was special, I wanted so badly to believe it. I jumped at the chance to help with his research...but became angry and desperate when results of our work seemed to be for nothing. It was like I had been granted a new chance at life, and being told that it all might've been a mistake was almost more than I could bear.
In frustration, I met up with Brian Davis, another man on Dr. Suresh's list. He showed me what he could do and it nearly left me breathless...I wanted what he had so badly I could almost taste it. He told me he didn't want this ability of his, and I couldn't believe he would so easily throw out something so amazing.
Before I knew it, my jealousy turned into something much more horrible. It was an incredible feeling...it was like I suddenly understood everything, and there was nothing to stop me from taking what I wanted.
I terrified myself. I had become a murderer. But at the same time, the power I now had felt so good. I was finally special...at a terrible price.
It was so wrong. I was scared. What had I done? Who was this person I was becoming? The more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to make it all stop. I was done. Being normal was numbing, but being a murderer was worse. No one would understand, and the only person who cared about me would never accept any of it. There was nothing left for me but staring at clocks, reminding me that my meaningless life was slowly ticking away second by second.
I had to end it. I hated being alone, I hated myself. Hopeless and helpless, I decided that death was my best option. I would kill myself.
The noose tightened around my neck and just as I began to black out, I hit the floor. I regained my breath and realized just how frightened of dying I was. When things came into focus, my eyes locked with the most welcome sight I could've ever hoped to see.
As far as I was concerned, Elle was an angel. Kind and beautiful...and she brought me the hope that I thought had been long gone.
I wanted to see her again. She promised she would come see me again, and suddenly I found the motivation to change. I had only known her for just a moment, but the connection I had felt with her gave me enough strength to pick myself up off the ground. If I had someone who cared, if I had a reason to keep going, I had the opportunity to become whoever I had to be. For her.
After all, being a nobody to the world didn't seem so bad...as long as I was someone's somebody.