Parallel
By Reoccurring Comatose
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot, and my feeble fingers.
Drip. Drip…Drip. BLOP. And then for a while the darkness is gone. I open my eyes to familiar surroundings. Ugh, how I wish Slade's lair was much more comfortable, but no, it just had to be a volcano, lunatic. I drift through the cave walls up to the surface. Seeing the clear blue sky, I inhale the fresh air. Well I would've if I could breathe. I shudder, it's a disturbing thought. Pushing the thoughts out, I keep telling myself I'm fortunate. The first few days were horrible, at least I can move now. Standing stiff, incased in my own prison, watching the bugs come and go, freezing even though I can't feel. It took a while for me to break free…not in the literal sense, but at least I can wander as I did before I… well you know.
I've always dreamed of flying. I mean, you see Superman do it all the time on T.V. and every time you ask someone what their superpower would be, it's flight. It's really not so cool when you get used to it. Wingless flight brings me back to Titans Tower. I swear I keep coming back to the point it's becoming an obsession for me. But then again, it's the only place I could ever call home.
An hour, that's the only time I have. Each day, I can leave for one hour, only to black out and return to slumber till the next day. In a way I could almost call this my punishment from God, but I've done too many things, seen too much to believe such a being exists. Screw 'his plan' for all of us.
"Dude, you totally cheated-"
"Did not, you just can't beat the Game Master," the half robot replies in exaggeration, later jutting his tongue forward. I smile in amusement. Beast boy could never beat Cyborg, it was like a rule of life. The green changeling turns in my direction. I wave, he can't see it, but I do anyway, it makes me feel like I'm not forgotten.
"Hey Rob, is Starfire cooking again today?" he asks as the masked boy wonder looks up from his Sunday morning paper. With a grin he shakes his head, earning a sigh of relief from the younger boy.
"She's out with Raven to the mall."
"Dragged her?" the metal man asks not looking up from his game, the winner sign flashes again, "Boo-yah" he says smoothly to the screen with excitement in his tone at the same time. Beast boy slumps, I want to walk over there and hug him. It's just…he won't feel it and trying to physically touch- it's too much energy, most of what I can do is just watch. Sometimes it's better that way.
"Actually no," Robin says as both drop their controllers turning to him, "she wanted a change in wardrobe."
"Seriously?" says Cyborg cocking an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Bookstore," Robin answers. Cy just knows him all too well. I wish I got to know someone as well as that, it would have been cool to have a sister, and I got suck with two brothers. Too bad I can't visit. I'd never make the journey. Too far and once again I feel helpless, weak, Slade use those words all the time. I think they were his favorites, when it came to pushing my buttons. It always got to me.
I walk over to my old room and sit on the bed. Running my fingers along my desk, I manage to move some of the dust. Sadly that's all I can do. Its how I've developed a huge disliking for pencils. I think it was the first object I've tried to move. Like dead weight, no like something heavier than a ton of lead. Concentrating didn't help. I guess in this parallel I still don't have telepathy. Heck I even tossed in an Azerath Metrion Zinthos, just to humor me. All I did was push it about one millionth of a millimeter. It rolled off the table, startling Star, it got her shaken up pretty bad, considering they just rented Wicked Scary 2. I saw it with them, I don't blame her. That's the last time I tried to make 'contact.' I hate the way some say that, it's like we're inhuman or something of the sort.
Speaking of contact, I saw a show the other day. It started with a 'D,' forgot what it was called. It was about some kind of ghost kid. I can only laugh at their portrayals. They make it look so easy, I'd kill to be able to chuck things or be seen, heard… er maybe not kill but you get the idea. Speaking of ghosts, I've been wondering what exactly am I, I've seen several others but I highly doubt I'm a polter- poltergeese, something that's along the lines, that longer word that means ghost, I feel dumb now. Some paranor- something investigator said we, were ghosts. Some psychic said we were 'lost souls' that haven't moved on. I like her term better. But it makes me wonder, why didn't I move on? Cause well I am technically dead right? I mean burning lava plus Pompeii equals dead people.
There's this one cool thing I can do that those 'ghosts' on T.V. can't. It's just a cartoon but I still think this is way niftier than tossing stuff, maybe not as cool as possessing people but none the less awesome. I can go into people's dreams. Guess who I tried that out on first?
A.N. A bit short, hopefully it'll get longer as the story progresses. Figure out the pairings yourself and no I don't take requests. Critism appriciated.
