[March 2015]
John rustled within his bed. Memories, more akin to nightmares, invaded his sleep. He could barely remember how many people there were during the incident, they were nothing but a blur as he tore through them.
He slammed his fist into the ground, cracking through the dirt, and sending a shockwave that blasted the ones that stood before him in his way.
A dozen other students were taken out so easily with a few crescent blades, copied from the previous King, Zirian. Was he one of them? It didn't matter to John, as long he didn't see them get back up.
The few that had the bright idea to try and run away did no better, he had aimed at their legs to prevent them from going anywhere. Did he fire beams at them? Or had he shattered their knees with one well-placed kick?
It all blended together.
How could the sound of crunching and snapping bones have felt so satisfying?
What had he become?
Monster
John jolted from his unrest, sitting upright as he tried to get ahold of his breathing. His fingers dug deeply into his blanket, knuckles turned white. Though maybe it didn't make a difference, he already looked like a ghost of himself.
He wiped the sweat off his brow with his trembling forearm, a constant occurrence after waking up. He hadn't had a single good night's rest in the weeks since he returned from those 3 months of readjustment classes.
That thought pushed out a shaky laugh John didn't know he had. Who was he to complain about not sleeping well? Who was he to think he deserved something like that? After what he did to everyone? To Adrion? The one person who had his back through it all...almost.
It was his own fault, Adrion did what he thought was right, and it was right. He was out of control, he wouldn't stop, he never would've.
Claire popped into his mind and John's restless frustration returned. How could he feel sorry for her? She used him from even before the beginning, he was nothing but a pawn to use to secure her protection, and when he didn't do what she expected, she turned tail and lied again to try and take him down. She was fake! A damn snake! She—
And again, their unconscious bodies lay before him, beaten and bloodied.
And still...she didn't deserve it.
John sighed, pulling the blanket over him again as he laid back down. It was an inescapable situation, those memories will replay whether he was awake or not, but at least there was a chance he can get away from them.
A chance to be unaware that he became the thing he hated the most.
A gentle knock took John out of his half-slumbering state. It's his dad, William, no one else it could be. There was a chance John would've spoken but he was just too tired, his body wouldn't let him.
He knew that wouldn't stop Dad. He heard the soft turning of the door knob as he came into the room, wearing some business casual attire, his hair gelled as always.
"Hey, John, you awake?." He calls out, a warm tone in his voice as always.
John turns over to give him a glance to signal he's awake. His father has his work satchel hanging from his shoulder with a plate of food in hand: Eggs, Bacon, Toast, as well as a cup of OJ.
"Okay, good to see, no one likes eating cold eggs!" William tried to joke, to the silence of his son.
"Ahem. I came to drop off breakfast. You barely leave your room and you already looked thinner when you got back. We gotta get you back some meat on your bones, heh heh." Another joke William hopes John reacts someway too. A chuckle, groan, anything.
But he doesn't. He's only met with tired amber eyes.
William's heart sank. She had the same look, the last time he ever saw her.
William looked down at John's desk, setting the food there.
It hurts to see those eyes look like that.
"I have to go to a meeting to discuss the details of my book, I'll be gone for a while. Might take all day, might take a couple of hours, not sure."
"...okay."
William could barely hear the word come from John's voice, but it was something, at least.
He goes to head out of John's room, before suddenly stopping. He turns around, pulling something from his bag, a book.
"They sent me a copy of the book. I thought you could read it, maybe it could help you get your mind off... you know." William explains, walking towards John's bedside and putting it next to the food.
He reaches his hand out, wanting to rustle John's hair, but something about his action makes John pull away, turning his head to face the wall.
William could've sworn he saw John's face fill with fear.
He doesn't attempt to try again.
"I'll see you in a little while, John. I love you."
A deep breath in, a deep breath out.
"Shit, Dad."
Of course, he had to be such a loving parent. Such a compassionate human being. So much better than John deserved.
John eyes the plate of food and cup of juice before he finally gives in to his stomach's rumbling. Even if he can't do it for himself, he'll do it so his dad doesn't worry.
It wasn't fair how good it tasted.
With the meal finished, John then glanced at the book Dad left for him. With a little effort, he reached over and grabbed the book from his desk. He turned on his desk light to help him see.
Taking a moment to look at the cover. The majority of the book was maroon-colored, with the spine of it being blue. The title was golden.
"Unordinary..." John opened the book to the first page with text on it.
This book is dedicated to my son.
"So embarrassing..." John mumbled.
He ignored the small bit of peace that filled his heart.
John was never good with reading through loads of words. At best, he'd get through one chapter before needing to rest his eyes.
"Alright... chapter one."
John read the whole book in one go.
Don't ask him how. He just couldn't put the book down.
John closed the book softly and set it to his side. He brought his legs to his chest, securing them in place with his arms.
He closed his eyes and in his mind visualized the man of Unordinary, surrounded by those who he helped with his power, whose lives were changed for the better, they loved him.
And right in the center was John, who stared at the man in amazement and wonder.
This man, in a world where no one could have stopped him from doing whatever he wanted, in a world full of those that society would label "beneath him", "worthless trash", that he could treat with as he pleased, everything he did was done to give them a better world to live in.
John takes a step forward toward the figure.
Dad, I know what you're trying to tell me.
Another step.
You want me to believe that I could become like him.
Another step.
That this power of mine can be used for something good.
John takes another step but his movement is halted. He turns behind him, and a shadowy figure was gripping him by the right arm. It resembled...Claire.
But is that even possible?
Another figure restricts his left arm. A shadow of Adrion.
I was corrupted by my power.
John felt someone's hand grip the top of his head. He didn't even need to look to see who that was supposed to be.
I'm not brave. I'm not compassionate. I hurt so many people. I caused so much pain.
Hands made of darkness took form and wrapped themselves around John's throat.
John looked into the being in front of him. Its hollow orange eyes glowed with an engulfing heat, it felt as if he was staring at a poor imitation of the sun. So fitting that this shadow resembled him.
I'm a monster.
John closes his eyes, if he had been struggling against them before, he certainly wasn't now.
I should be left to fade away in the background, there are others who could fill that role...
...
...But...maybe...
John opened his eyes, the shadows that held him back, that constricted him, were gone. All that stood before him was the man of unOrdinary, who looked down at John.
John doesn't know how it happen, but in one swift motion, the man had taken his cape and draped it along John's shoulders.
John hesitated, before gripping and tugging the cape closer to himself like it was a blanket protecting him from the chills of a cold, dark night. He looked up at the man, he could feel the tears running down his face.
...Maybe if I really tried...
Most of the man's face was undefined, a blank canvas essentially.
But he saw the ghost of a smile that somehow displayed so much warmth, with a thumbs-up.
I could be like him.
John startled awake, his knees still tugged to his chest as they were. He must've dozed off. He noticed the tears that began to fall down his cheeks. It felt so much more real than it should've.
A knock at his door startled him a second time.
"Hey, John, It's Dad. I got home ear—"
John didn't waste time, he lunged out of his bed and roughly pulled the door open, surprising his Dad.
"Woah, John! Everything al—
William wouldn't finish his sentence as he was cut off by John pulling him into a very tight hug.
"I want to be better, Dad." He heard through John's voice, a cracking in its sound.
"John?"
"I don't want to be this person I hate anymore. I...I don't want to be someone that causes so much pain. I want to be good...do the right thing...but..."
William wrapped his arms around his son, returning the hug. "But what, John?"
"I don't know if I deserve to...I don't know if I can...I —" His voice cracked again. "I'm afraid that I'll fail, that I'll never be able to become better. That I'm destined to be an uncontrollable mess...
"I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid of my ability."
"Kiddo..." William had never seen his son so emotional...so vulnerable.
Those readjustment classes...
He clenched the back of his son's shirt.
What did they do to his son?
"I'm...I'm sorry, John. If I was born with an ability, I could give you better guidance, but I can't. I'm...sorry.
I'm sorry she's not here to help you.
"But...Power isn't inherently a bad thing, John. Almost nothing is, it's how it's used that makes it good or bad."
"That's the point! I...I used it to hurt and destroy."
"But that's not your only option. You can use it to help and protect others too."
"But what if I—
"If you only worry about the worst you can do, how can you ever become better?"
"I..."
William sighed. "John. We all make mistakes. Some are bigger than others, but what many in this world aren't able to do is acknowledge that and use it as a way to become better. Look at me, John."
It's difficult, but John does it.
"I believe in you. I always have. I know that once you've set your sights on something, practically nothing will stop you from getting it. You became this strong in less than 2 years of using your ability, no matter what, it's an unbelievable event."
William tapped John's chest with his fist.
"If you want to change, to become a version of yourself that's better than who you are now, I know you'll be able to achieve it. I'll be with you all the way."
John took a moment to breathe and collect himself.
"Thank you, Dad. F-For everything." John let go of his dad but still leaned his head onto the older man's chest.
William hesitated before gently ruffling his son's hair. Seeing that John doesn't flinch, he continues with a smile.
Wanting to lighten the mood, William throws his arm around John's shoulder and starts walking with him. "Well, how bout we start off on a high note? Let's get some hand-to-hand and endurance work in today, then we'll go out for some Boba as a reward!"
John cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like it? You always said it was too sweet."
William waved away his son's question with a smile. "I've grown a fondness for it since you've been away. The pineapple flavor is definitely the best!"
The look on John's face was one of disgust and disappointment.
"What— No way, Mango is obviously superior. You got bad taste."
William faked a gasp. "How dare thee! I don't have bad taste! Clearly, it's an acquired taste."
"Yeah, acquired from having the worst tastebuds ever."
"I'm done with this topic!"
A silence hung over the two before they begin to have a small fit of laugh together.
This...This was nice.
A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!