Gifted

== Gifted ==
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Trigger warning:
Mentions of D--th, s--c-de, gore, and other things that may cause discomfort. Proceed with caution.
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==== Chapter 1. ====
A normal introduction.
I decided to leave this here for the sake of those who wonder why this happened. I’m ready to say that, and I always have been. I’ve been waiting for years to reach the breaking point, and I think I finally have. As some may know, I am “Gifted.” It’s useless. I don’t see anything more than than the dumb emotions of people around me. What’s it to me if someone had a bad day? I don’t need any of that to topple on top of me too. I never had any intention of helping people. I can’t see what they’re thinking, what made them that way. Only how they feel. It does nothing more than poison my brain, builds envy. And a drawback? I can’t seem to find a purpose in this world. There’s probably something wrong with me, but I never bothered to check. There’s no solution for us, anyways. If only I was gifted in a better way. Something with benefits. Something that didn’t prevent me from feeling the joys that everyone feels in everyday life. That’s why. I lost everything, and I don’t intend on gaining it back either. My existence was pretty pointless. 
I apologize if I was a bother in any way, but I really don’t care whether I was or not. Just saying it for the sake of being a decent human before I’m gone.
Goodbye.
Xavier placed the note on his desk. He took a serrated knife and stabbed it on the corner. Kind of pointless, considering the fact that it would be sitting there either way. He walked over to his drawer, each step releasing a creak. The creak always tore his ears. The building he lived in was decrepit, but he didn’t have a cheaper option. No matter how much he hated his home, it astonished him that there were people who thought of his home to be “aesthetic.” 
“So classic! The wood’s color soothes my eyes!” It made no sense. He reached into his drawer to get his grey collared shirt. It was the oldest shirt he had that still fit him. It looked very ordinary. Some would call it aged, and it really was. It was one of his most valuable items to him personally. It had a history. Not only that, but the person who gave it to him was someone who he cherished. Someone who he cherished that’s gone now. He would return the shirt to its rightful owner. 
He removed his top to see his shriveled body reflected on his mirror. It was a skinny dry leaf. If someone were to step on him, he would crunch like one too. His rib cage poked into view from behind his skin. It had just occurred to him. He hadn’t eaten in a while. This wasn’t even him anymore. It wasn’t Xavier that he was looking at. The person was far more horrifying. Hideous. Disgusting. Maybe that was him. Yes, it was. That’s exactly what described him.
He brushed it off his mind. There was no need to think these thoughts anymore, it would all be over soon. As he slipped the collared shirt on, it masked his shriveled appearance. He looked at his face through the mirror. His white highlight of hair stood out from the rest of the coal colored strands. They covered his eyes. His expression was that of a corpse, as usual. He was so dull all the time. Tired, despite getting excessive sleep. He lacked motivation. He didn’t like interacting with people. A single glimpse of his face was more than enough to send the message through. He had very few friends, only because he didn’t have the energy to deal with slicing ties with them.
With each step, he buttoned his shirt. He grabbed his phone and walked to the door. He took one final look into the abode he suffered in. The rusty looking door handles. The damaged mahogany wood planks. The window. He may have hated his room, but the window had a calming view. It brought him to peace. 
The snow among the Baltimore city lights looked pretty through his window. The cold is what he would go out to, and he was prepared, mentally. He left his apartment door at a small creek and shut all but the table lights off. The light where the note was sitting. He walked down the stairs of his apartment. Each step felt heavy. It always did. His shoulders felt compressed, his chest felt tight, his eyes felt droopy. 
He reached the end of the staircase and walked out. He winced. The cold hit him. It stung like bees in every inch of his skin. He didn’t expect it to be this freezing. 
Go inside. Wait, no. Keep going.
He walked through the snow. It was soft. It was like cotton. The snow barely made noise. His face reddened. It stung him badly until it numbed. It was quiet, unusually quiet as he walked towards the side of the water. Did he really need to do this? yes, he did. Feeling something, even if painful, was better than living like an empty shell. His breath was all he could hear. Steam puffed out of his mouth like clouds. He wanted to cry of pain, but he had no tears to shed. 
He sat at the side of the water. He saw the view of the harbor. Perhaps it would be a nice final view. His toes dipped into the water. It was a mound colder than the air. The yellow street light illuminated the water and the snow. He could feel his body’s temperature dropping, bit by bit. 
As he waited, He decided to flash back to all the good moments in his life. He closed his eyes. He remembered all the people he loved, but it only ripped him apart more. The people he cared about were all dead anyways. It made him feel like shit, like he could’ve done something. He didn’t want it. Instead, he thought of things that were small.
Coffee. Creamy coffee. Snow. It was pretty. Fireplaces, mesmerizing. Woodcarvings. Fun to make, but expensive.
5 minutes. 
10 minutes. 
Half an hour. 
He was still there. It was getting worse and worse by the second. He felt cold to the core. 
Just a bit more, he thought. Just a bit more and this’ll all be over. Don’t give in. Don’t seek warmt-
It hit him. A sting of anxiety and paranoia. He wasn’t feeling these. There were the feelings of someone else. There was someone within close proximity to him. He turned around to see a young boy in the distance, his hand on the wall of a building. He looked out of balance, unaware of what to do or where to go. Was he insane? High? A lot of people were going around high, especially in Baltimore. The #2 city with the highest crime rates in the U.S.A. 
But the emotions from this were different. He had sensed what high people had felt before. They were more chaotic and confused. This person had a more passive feeling. He couldn’t see his details from afar, but he made him out to be a medium short person. Maybe 5’8 or 5’9. It was hard to make out the rest of him, like his eye or hair color.
The boy noticed Xavier staring at him. As soon as he noticed, Xavier could feel the boy’s anxiety spike up, 
“Hello?” he asked. 
Xavier was going to respond, but his lips halted. They were too cold to say anything. His lungs reeked of frigid air. He only mumbled something that even he himself couldn’t understand. He could feel the kid’s fear decrease as it slowly formed into distress. It wasn’t distress for the kid’s self, however. It was distress for Xavier. Why the hell did he care? It shouldn’t matter to him. His end that was supposed to be peaceful had already felt interrupted. He knew that there was no way that the kid would leave him alone. 
Xavier got up from his spot and took out a lighter he had in his pocket. He held his hands near the small flame of it, warming them up and bringing an uncomfortable, thawing feeling, finally allowing him to feel the pain that was supposed to come with the cold. He started feeling confused emotions from the kid again. Letting go of the wall, he got closer to Xavier. It would be a pain to deal with him. Xavier inhaled a bit of air to speak. 
“Get the hell away, I don’t need help,” he said. He could see the silhouette of the boy stop. Momentarily. The kid kept approaching him. 
“Why are you still coming? Who the hell are you?” Xavier stated sternly. The silhouette stopped again, in a more defensive position. Xavier felt the discomfort that he felt. 
“Wait, I just came to ask, who was the person sitting next to you? I think I know them.” 
He had to be on drugs. There was no one sitting beside him. The figure of the boy got close, under the street light. Xavier could now see the face of the kid. He seemed young. He could fit anywhere between the ages 16-20. He had black hair with a pale white streak, identical to Xavier’s.The boy opened his mouth to speak. 
“Sorry sir, I think I saw it wro-”
“Get away!” Xavier called out. Unless it was a birthmark, the white hair streak, it meant that this kid was gifted too. Xavier had a strong loathe and feeling of envy towards other gifted people. It was part of the reason why he was there. Others ended up with blessed luck with their gifts and drawbacks, while he was stuck gazing at the emotions of others that he couldn’t even experience for himself.
Xavier dropped his lighter and pushed the kid to the ground. He was swallowed on the thin layer of snow. His rage and bitterness took him over. 
“You’re born with something blessed, aren’t you? Something easy to deal with?!” he yelled.
The kid was left stunned. Xavier could see a blank circle with blue over his head. He was in shock. He was clueless about a single word that Xavier had stabbed at him.
“Gifted?” he asked. “I’m not gifted, I’m normal. Maybe a bit delusional sometimes, according to some people, but not gifted.”
So he had pushed the kid for no reason? No. He had to be. The kid wasn’t lying, he could tell, but maybe he didn’t know. Maybe that’s why he was acting all delusional, seeing things, going around like he’s drunk. 
“Why were you going around confused? You didn’t know what was exactly going on. You thought that there was a figure next to me. Tell me, what the hell is going on in your head?”
“I- I just saw it wrong. I don’t think there was anyone. I need to go now-”
He was lying. He did see something, and Xavier could tell from the spiked emotion he gave off when Xavier asked about it. The kid was getting up from his spot, freezing from the pavement. He got up to run but Xavier grabbed his thin shirt. He wasn’t going to let him go that easily. Pale explosions were happening around his head, the visuals of intense panic. Xavier had seen it before. He pulled his shirt down tightly towards the ground. The kid got slammed onto the ground. Xavier looked down at him to see a terrified face.
“What are you doing?” the kid asked, his voice trembling from either the cold or the fear.
“I’m going to see if you’re gifted or not. There’s no way you aren’t. Go home or do whatever the hell you want if you’re not. And if you are- we’ll think about that later,” he said. He bent down to grab his arm. The boy seemed too stunned to run. His hand gripped over the boy’s arm like welded iron. He didn’t budge, he lay there in the same position that he had fallen.
“Up. Get up!”
He scrambled to his feet and started following Xavier. Xavier started walking back towards the city. The kid was slow, but a little rough push seemed to get him to walk. The kid tapped him, and he turned around.
“Um… sir? Where are you taking me?” he asked anxiously.
Xavier had just realized what he had done and what he was doing. He was taking a stranger with him, but to where? Idiotically, he hadn’t processed that ahead of time. He wanted to prove that the kid was gifted, somehow. The kid wasn’t going to speak so easily about what he saw. It must’ve been part of his drawback. He was too afraid and ashamed. Xavier didn’t have the time to be nice enough to crack it out of him, but he was still internally furious enough to prove it to him. He couldn’t afford a psychologist either. It was really dumb.
“F--k it. Fine. Go home or do whatever, I don’t care,” he said. He tossed his arm back in a violent manor, going on walking across the street. 
“Wait!” the kid yelled. “I don’t have my phone, I- can you take me home? I need a GPS to navigate.” 
The kid held onto his collared shirt, his dear collared shirt. 
“Get your disgusting hands off my shirt. I’ll take you, I’ll take you. Calm down.”
And so there he was, taking a teenager with mental issues back to wherever he resided. He felt exhausted. At this moment, all he wanted was to drop him off and go back home, back to where he would inevitably suffer further. His attempt in taking his own life had failed. At least for that night.
==== Chapter 2 ====
Discovery.
“What’s your name?” the kid asked while following Xavier, who was navigating on his phone.
“What’s it to you? It’s none of your business.”
He had no intention in giving his personal details. Certainly not to a delusional child that lingered around like a goose carcass.
“I’m walking you home, we aren’t friends. Seal your jaws until we get there, I have no interest in talking.”
A sorrow wave flushed out of the kid’s head. He was desperate to speak. Perhaps he had thoughts that he had never spilled out to anybody else out from his maw. The kid may have known that Xavier would be an individual he would never see again. Maybe it was easier to rant on about things when you know that the man you meet will never cross paths with you again. Xavier wouldn’t tell, but he also didn’t care. 
The feelings radiating from the kid was making him vexatious. It gave him a headache. It echoed in the walls of his skull
“Fine, I’m Xavier. Cut the sadness, you’ll get a therapist later. I’m not someone to rant on about your problems,” he said, his voice thrashing at him. The kid blinked. The emotion didn’t change. 
“You talk weirdly,” he replied. Finally, there was a shift in his aura. It was relieving to Xavier. The feelings that beamed off the kid were now plain. Silent. Bright. Far more calming. Perhaps Xavier did speak a bit oddly. A bit random. Knowing how people felt made you see through their fragile glass minds and comment at every hint of emotion.
“I’m Arsen,” the kid added on after a minute pause. It made Xavier laugh for a second. Very temporary. 
Sounds like arson. 
Arsen’s emotions radiated irritation.
“Shut up,” he demanded.
“I know, it’s kind of a stupid thing for me to laugh at,” Xavier said back.
After that, there was a long period of silence. Xavier finally arrived at Arsen’s house. It looked large. Quite a nice looking house. Rather gaudy for a person living in Baltimore. It seemed immense with a geometrical shape. His family must’ve been wealthier than he had expected. He walked up to the doorstep and rang the doorbell. Fear started arising from Arsen again.
“What the hell? Why are you scared again? Of your parents?” Xavier asked, waiting for a response from the door. Arsen didn’t reply. His behavior was very abnormal. Difficult to understand. Xavier turned around to face him.
“I said, why are you scared? Answer me,” he ordered. Right then, the door began creaking, letting light leak out to the dim lit doorstep. Arsen thrusted his leg to take off back onto the street. Xavier was expecting something like from the rising tension that came from him. He gripped Arsen’s wrist and shoved him towards the door.
“Are you insane? You’re at your house, why are you trying to run away?” Xavier muttered to him quickly. 
Just then, the door fully cracked open, a woman standing there. She seemed old, yet young at the same time. It was hard to describe. Her hair color displayed a caramel color, all clumped in a rabbit tail-like bun. Her eyes were a basic shade of blue. She seemed American, maybe European, although she bore near no resemblance to Arsen. Arsen hair shouted obsidian black. He seemed a bit East Asian. At her sight, Arsen seemed to calm down. His feeling straightened and calmed, almost like it was relieved. But relieved of what?
“Arsen,” she said, “what are you doing out here? In freezing weather? Are you insane? It’s 12:34. When, where and how did you go out?”
Xavier could see dots of red, orange and yellow spinning around her head. She was feeling irritated, probably mad at Arsen. Of course she was. Her son, or maybe a familiar relative, had gone off in the freezing weather during the middle of the night. She turned her gaze over Xavier and narrowed her eyes.
Arsen began replying to the woman in an unfamiliar language. They argued for a bit, and she sealed the discussion by yelling at him. Probably telling him to go upstairs. He slipped his shoes off and walked into the house without saying another word, but the woman didn’t immediately go inside. An interrogation was going to happen to Xavier too.
“Who are you?” she began.
“I was taking a walk outside and I saw him going around like he’s drunk. I think he has mental issues.”
She felt offended, like he’d spat on her face.
“Excuse me? Are you talking about my son?” she asked.
She is his mother after all.
“No, I’m serious. He was acting all odd, felt the urge to run away from me multiple times. He seemed to hallucinate someone sitting next to me. Ma’am, I can assure you that something’s up with him. Maybe get him checked in with a psychologist.”
Frustration overwhelmed the woman. 
“I don’t have the energy to deal with this…” she groaned. “Anyways, thank you. Wait here,” she said.
After 5 minutes or so, she came back with a coat and a 20 dollar bill.
“Take this with you. Thanks for bringing him home. Get yourself some coffee if you need, it’s cold tonight.”
Xavier nodded, and the woman slammed the door shut. That’s when he realized how chilly it was. Desperately, he slipped on the coat, insulating the bit of body heat he had left. He pulled up a map from his phone, looking for the closest coffee shop. One shop was still open, not too far away. He began speed walking, fast enough to get there quickly and slow enough not to exhaust himself any further. His skin had been exposed for nearly over 50 minutes. He dragged his feet, step by step. He reached the shop and walked in. The scent of coffee flooded the place. It had a warm atmosphere, bringing more of the thawing pain into his body. Walking over to the cashier, he slapped the money onto the counter. An employee turned to face him, a bit startled.
“Get me anything that’s warm,” he demanded.
He took a seat near the window, staring out to the street. He watched as the snowflakes fell, one by one. It added onto the layer of snow. He thought more about Arsen. Would his parents care enough to check him out? Of course they would. They seemed prosperous. They could easily get a psychologist for him. The question still lingered though. Was he gifted too? He didn’t know what to think if he was. Maybe his gift wasn’t as good as Xavier’s if he hadn’t noticed by then.
Xavier held hatred towards other gifted individuals. He hadn’t met many before, but he didn't like any of them. Not a single one. They always gave him an infuriating mix of thoughts. He couldn’t describe it in a single word. 
“Your- uh, hot drink, sir,” the employee said to him. He was too engulfed in his world to notice that the employee had approached him. Normally, he could sense the presence of people through their emotions. He could tell if someone was hiding somewhere or not. There was a certain proximity around him where he could feel emotions. He never bothered to measure it, but it was somewhat wide. Whenever he disconnected from reality, however, usually lost too far in thoughts, his gift would halt its use. That’s exactly what had happened.
“Thank you,” he replied. He took a sip of the drink. The top was cloudy, creamy. It pleased his taste buds. He could tell that there was some caffeine in it. It was a mix of hot chocolate and coffee. The drink flowed down his throat. It burned. It was really doing its job, warming him up.
He chugged the drink down. He stood up, hitting his empty coffee cup onto the table. The took the change that the employee had left for him and exited the shop. It was cold again, especially after getting used to the warmth that the coffee shop had brought. It was better than before, though. He had the coat, concealing a bit of heat. His thoughts trailed back to the main reason why he had ever left him home. He wouldn’t try to kill himself by freezing again. What worth did it even have when it failed the first time?
His feet drew a path  in the snow, step by step. He finally reached the door of his apartment complex. With his shoulder, he shoved the door open. Taking the steps, he began climbing back up to his apartment. As soon as he reached the 2nd floor, he felt a distant feeling of sorrow. From upstairs? He sped up his climbing.
The closer, the stronger. He ran up to see his room, the only room on the 6th floor. The door was creaked wider than he had left it. Sobs echoed out of the room, syncing with the waves of mourning. He creaked the door open a bit to rest his eye’s gaze on a figure, crying on the floor. 
Immediately, it snapped to him who it was. 
Shit. She found the note. 
The last thing he wanted for her to get all emotional and cry to him. He stepped back. Mistake. The wooden plank under him screamed a creak, alerting her of his presence. She got startled and turned around to face him. She inhaled a gasp.
“Xavier?”
F—k.
==== Chapter 3 ====
Guilt?
Mariane jumped into his arms, her face in his stomach, sobbing. It made him uncomfortable. He tried to push her off, but her arms were locked on. With his hand, he closed the door behind him, not to awaken other residents from her piercing voice.
“Be quiet, you’re going to wake up the whole building,”  he muttered. Mariane wasn’t exactly a bad person, it was just that she wasn’t the type of figure he would have a close relationship with. Their friendship was shallow, at least on Xavier's side. She was someone he tended to get annoyed with. She was one of his few friends, all the way back from high school. She too resided in the same apartment complex. Her clingy and emotional nature irked Xavier. He liked people with calmer minds. Not only that, but he could see the emotions that she felt around him. She felt romantic attraction towards him. She wanted to get closer to him. Knowing that fact made Xavier be more avoidant.
“Are you insane?” She weeped. He felt her tears soaking his shirt. He held her shoulders and tried to break her grip again, but it was no use. 
“Mariane, give me a second, I’ll explain in a bit.”
She reluctantly let go, watching Xavier with her eyes leaking. Xavier walked over to his mirror. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.
“What- Xavier, I can see your rib cage. Don’t you eat?” She asked in a tone of concern. He turned to face her. 
“Why are you looking?” he asked. She zipped her head away and shielded the side of her eyes without a single word to say. An ugly, hazy red formed around her head, with a tint of pink. 
Embarrassment. 
He smiled for a quick heartbeat. He liked making people feel ashamed. He put a beige t-shirt on and took a breath. He had to play nice now. He didn’t want to irritate Mariane or else he would have to deal with her sadness ringing in his head. He didn’t feel bad for her. It was that sensing a down mood lowered his mood too. It lingered in his head. It was straight up bothersome. Besides, the sooner Xavier appeared to feel better, the quicker Mariam would  calm down and leave
“Are you done?” she asked from the back. He turned around.
“Yeah, I’m done.”
She moved her hand away from her eyes and went straight for the note that was now lying on the floor. She picked it up, staring at it. Rereading it? She raised it a bit and jabbed her finger into it. The hand holding the note began trembling.
“I- was going to drop off some brownies I made, and I found… What is this?” she asked. She knew damn well what it was. She was probably trying to confirm it.
Amazing. Now he had to explain stuff. Fun.
“I appreciate your concern,” he said. He didn’t have any excuses to make. It would just sound stupid. “It’s a suicide note, if that wasn’t clear enough.”
That single phase made her break down on the spot. She clenched the note. Her nails were stabbed into it. Her wavy brown hair blocked her face as she bent her head down, back into a weeping state. Her knees slammed onto the floor. Visuals of sharp spikes of navy blue and phthalo formed around her head. She’d have to cry for a bit. She was tugging her hair tightly.  If he dared to say anything, it would only make him have to deal with her for longer.
What an odd reaction. This isn’t what I expected. How do people usually react to suicides? Would this be how? he wondered.
“Why, why… why would you, Xavier?” she said, her voice creaking and whimpering in a high pitched tone. “Do I mean nothing to you? I don’t understand… don’t leave me behind, don’t, please don’t…”
Unacceptable. He wanted to slap her at that moment. He wanted to kick her. He wanted to choke her. Duck tape her mouth. Throw her out the window. Snap her neck. His anger burned at her guilt tripping. That phrase “do I mean nothing to you?” was absolutely infuriating. What made her think that he cared about his absence to others? Why did she think he wanted to die in the first place? Part of why was because he felt the guilt of his lack of caring for people, and her comment certainly didn’t help.
No matter how eager he was to yell at her, he suppressed it.
“Not that I don’t, I just didn’t…”
Nothing else came out of his mouth. He didn’t know what to say.
“You don’t what, Xavier? Tell me, you don’t what?” Mariane asked. Xavier sat down on his bed. His mind didn’t generate a response. He didn’t want to talk to Mariane about anything. No living person had that level of trust with him.
Think of a quick lie.
“Mariane. I- I changed my mind. Why do you think I came back? I thought that cutting myself away would be too much of a hassle for the people around me, the people that appreciated me. I want to give it more of a chance. Maybe I’ll see my potential in this world,” he said. His words gave him the urge to hurl. It was a cheap lie, but it had potential. It sounded ‘deep’ enough to possibly convince her. He wanted her out as soon as possible.
She sniffed and smeared a tear away with her palm. She lifted herself up and off of the ground. Her unstable legs walked over to where he was. She wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him into a hug. He quickly pulled back after 2 seconds. Physical affection bothered him to the brim. 
“Please don’t try to leave me again, please,” she said. Her hand clinged onto his arm. Xavier forged a fake smile, trying to look appreciative. 
“I won’t, I promise you,” he said reassuringly. While her nose was still stuffy, Xavier saw that it seemed to calm Mariane down. He got up and stretched.
“Anyways, I’ll be going to bed now,” he said. He expected her to leave, but she sat there. 
“I- Mariam, I need to sleep-”
“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you want,” she asserted. “What if you try to kill yourself again while I’m gone? I’m not risking it.”
Lie. She only wanted to be with Xavier for longer. Well, it wasn’t certain if it was a lie or not, but that’s what it seemed like to him. He could see emotions, but not thoughts. He couldn’t root out every lie. 
“Look, I know that you care, and I’m very glad that you care, but I won’t do anything, I promise. Okay?” he said. She didn’t budge. She remained at her spot. He took a seat next to her. She was fairly peaceful, but still had concern in her mind. He sat there silently like a stone. He patiently waited like one too. 
It didn’t take long for her consciousness to slip out of her mind. She lost her balance and her head was against Xavier’s shoulder. He tapped her once. No response. She was asleep. He got up and dragged her by the bottom of her shoulders. Opening his door, he placed her right at his doorstep and he shut it behind her. She’d be fine, she’d probably just wake up the next day while the building owner was mopping the floors.
Finally, peace. 
Xavier walked over to his desk and closed the light. The only remaining luminance was the light coming from outside reflecting from the snow. It poured into the room, gently lighting it up. He allowed himself to collapse on his mattress. His body sunk right into it. His arms were stretched out. He looked up to the ceiling. His eyes stared blankly at it. No, keeping his eyes open wouldn’t let him fall asleep. He shut his eyes and thought thoughts. Thoughts that he could never share. 
What would Mom think? Alex died of physical health issues. She really ignored my situation since it didn’t do me any harm. Damn. I wonder what she’d think if I didn’t make it home tonight. Would she care? Would she even find out? It’s been three months since she’s tried contacting me. That psychopathic woman.
Soon after, he fell asleep.
More coming soon
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Thank you for reading.
Category:Worlds
Category:Fanfiction
Category:Novels