Paralysed from the neck down, I refuse food, accept little water. Mum, in despair, forces food into my mouth, pleading for me to eat. I choke. She cannot save me. Desperate, terrified, horrified, frantic, panicking, fear of God and full of self-loathing for the rest of her life. I see this in her eyes. In my last moments I get a satisfying, cold revenge.

Now YOU suffer.



Numb.  No feeling.  Can’t sleep.

No anger.

No shame.

No joy.

No happiness.

No fun.

No future.

No past.

Trepidation.  Something stirs beneath the surface.  I don’t want to disturb it, but I want it gone.

A numb fear.  Fear of facing what holds me.  Clinging, cloying, smothering, restricting.

Let me go.

Let it go.

We are not friends, this thing and me.  Yet it is part of me.

It sometimes hides and I forget it’s there.  But it comes back to make me feel sorrow, regret, shame, guilt, undeservedness.

You don’t deserve joy, it tells me.  Then give me death, I moan.  You don’t deserve death.

Numbness is a kind of solace, but brings no comfort.

I am like a ghost.  I died a long time ago, yet continue to exist, lost, aimless, numb.

The numbness is a shield.  It protects me from the thing that doesn’t want to be exorcised.  The thing that holds me back, keeps me down.

What would I be without it?  What am I now?  These questions seem like they should mean something.

Maybe it’s not what I could be or what I am.

Maybe it’s simply…

I am.


Superpower – The ability to burn someone’s crotch.

Scenario – Get pulled over by police for speeding.  Start burning policeman’s crotch.  By the time he get to your car the pain in almost unbearable.  If he’s dedicated to his job he’ll try to carry on, so you increase the pain.

“Are you alright, officer?  You seem to be in distress.  Would you like me to call someone?  Shall I drive you to hospital?  I’m a fast driver.  Should have you there in no time.”