Disclaimer: The story is mine; everything else belongs to Marvel and the others. If you want to archive or something please just ask. I don't bite, well, not enough to draw blood anyway.

Here is one of my TCP (The Common People). Please tell me what you think. I've been toying around with this idea for a while and finally decided to write it all out and post it. I don't think I'll write more about this guy, but if you want me to post some more of my other TCP's, I might. Rated for gore and swearing, if you don't want to read either of those things, don't read this then. I reserve the right to roast flamers.

A Matter Of Control

Six months, 3 days, 5 hours, 32 minutes, and give or take a few seconds. That's how long the man sitting next to me has to live.

That's not a threat I swear, that's just a fact.

You wanna know how I know that?

I'm a mutant, that's how. I'm sure your thinking 'Mutant? You? No way, where's your spandex? Your Arch-Enemy?' Oh, the misconceptions. I think it's time for me to do some explaining.

Wanna know what my power is? I'm sure by now you have some idea. No? Ok, then, be quite and listen for a few minutes will ya?

Seeing how long someone has left to live, that's what I do. It's not flashy; I just know things no man was ever supposed to know. There's a little digital clock, (you know, like the ones with the red numbers you see on TV all the time that are attached to bombs?) right over your heart. I can see it if I focus enough. It's not right, I shouldn't be able to, but it's become a morbid fascination, I'm addicted to knowing. I've given up on trying to warn others of their demise, it doesn't work.

I once told a girl at school that something was going to happen to her in four days and she thought I was a stalker out to kill her. She threw her books at me and ran down the hall screaming bloody murder; I wanted to kill her then. I was so embarrassed, my cheeks were burning crimson and I was so scared right then and honestly, I had every reason to. That was the single worst choice of my life. I thought I would be seen as a hero, dear god how wrong I was.

She ran straight to the cops and got a restraining order against me. Me. I'd never even had a detention and all of a sudden got suspended for three days for threatening a fellow student. I knew chicks were difficult, but jeez, I was just trying to help. I guess that's what I get for trying to be a nice guy. That happened on Monday, I had three days of getting screamed at by my mom and dad before I could go back to school only to be treated even worse. They were more pissed than I had seen them in my life.

When I came back on Thursday, I could hear the hushed whispers as I walked past. Feel the accusing stares from each and every set of eyes as they bore down against my back.

Stupid bitch couldn't even leave it at that, oh no, I messed with her sense of security and Nothing Bad Will Ever Happen To Me frame of mind and she couldn't just let that go unreturned. She turned the whole school against me. Even the few people that were my friends wouldn't talk to me anymore. They didn't want to get in the way of Ms Popularity. That's what I get for trying to show some compassion. After that, I stopped caring about others and was out for the goal of self-preservation. Screw everyone else was my new motto.

The girl, Vicky, went straight home after school instead of her Soccer game on Thursday. Do you know why? Because she was scared of me. Or at least that's what she told everyone anyway. She probably just wasn't in the mood to play or something like that. She just kept pissing me off more and more.

I was the shyest and quietest kid in the school, but that day I heard "It's always the quite ones" whispered just loud enough for me to hear more times than I could count. I hate that phrase now.

But I digress; do you know what happened to her? A bus went through her house and killed her.

That's right, a coach bus that was driving to the bus station just three blocks away had to take a detour because of road construction and ended up driving through her neighborhood. Which would have been fine except had the driver not gone into a seizure.

He hit the steering wheel and went through the front of her house. Right over the lawn then through the front door destroying the foyer.

She was going to the door to go check the mailbox when the bus ran her down at fifty miles an hour. In her own home. Within a few seconds she went from All-Around-American-Teenage-Girl to "Look, there's an arm or is that a leg? Anybody seen her head? Oh wait is that it over there under that?" She was splattered across her own house and the bus. Out of the 25 passengers only four survived the crash and two the next day.

It sent the cops on the case to the bottle and made most throw up right there at the scene. It was really gruesome.

The whole town was in an uproar; somehow they thought that I did it. No one knew how or why but as soon as the media got a hold of the restraining order, there were reporters camped out on my front lawn.

Some called me a witch who hexed her, can you believe that? It's freaking 2001 and they think I'm a witch. One way or another, I got acquitted on all charges, since they had no evidence of anything.

But I was still the most hated person in the town. I was hated for killing their prize A+ student, star Soccer captain and all around nicest person ever (Yea, right). So I did the only thing I could think of to do.

I ran, not knowing where to go, or how to get there, I just knew I couldn't stay. My parents were thinking of ways to get rid of me and I was afraid the rest of the town would decide to grab the pitchforks and torches and kill the town monster (Me).

I was running from the only place I'd ever lived (a small town in southern Michigan) and the only thing I new was I was going south, towards Chicago. It was a long time till I got here so I got to do a lot of thinking (and a lot of reading) Most of my thinking was done in the passenger seat of an eighteen-wheeler or seedy dives where I would sit silently for hours.

Do you know what I found out?

That even if I tell you when your going to die, hell I could even tell you how you're going to die, it won't do a flying fuck. If you're set to die on March 15, 2024 then you'll die then no matter what.

You see, at the time the bus came roaring up her front walk ready to turn her into a bloody pulp, she would have been walking home from her game. No matter what I would have done, she would have still died.

Doesn't it suck to know that? To know that all that "I control my own destiny" is just a load of shit? I bet right now your saying "I don't believe you, I can do what ever I want" well you know what? That's true you can. But, fate already knew you would and you're just as predictable as every other person in the Whole Wide Freaking World. All this life and death shit, it's all really about one thing. You know what it is? Control.

And despite popular belief, do you really wanna know the truth? You sure? I don't think you'll like it… ok fine, I'll tell you.

You have no control over anything in your life. Control is just an illusion created to give fulfillment to your life. If you knew that you had no control over you life would you want to live it? No? That's what I've been saying. What, you don't believe me? Fine I told you, you wouldn't. I really don't care.



It's all just a matter of Control.

--Laura Night