Affinity

It is just as it is with the flower. If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are abloom with flowers. The moon and sun are both alight in different colours. And when we think about how many there are...it makes sense why there’s so much space up there. And yet…the night sky still feels lonely. A lot like me… I can’t sleep. The loneliness is hard to shake off when you’re not the one being left behind. Not by someone who loves you. No one else will ever understand what it feels like to be so far from home. I miss you, mommy. I want to go back home…

I sigh.

There has always been something wrong with me since I was born. My mother told me so many times before I could hear her speak, when she had to get used to hearing my own voice for the first time. She said I was cursed, that I had a curse upon us – to carry this pain with me through life. That if I ever found myself loving another than myself…I would become sicker than she had ever thought. There were other children too who suffered similarly. They went mad and killed their parents – the doctors couldn't tell anyone. But even if they could have saved them all, she never knew for sure. She only knew she was going crazy when she finally got rid of it all. Even then, she kept me under lock and key for years. It took all my effort to escape one day while everyone was busy, but I made it out. And when I ran…it felt like my heart was leaving me. Everything inside me felt heavy. I don't think it ever went away; it was just hidden inside. So I came here and hid myself away until everything was alright again.

The sky is quiet tonight. Nothing moves except for the occasional breeze. The trees rustle, and some birds sing a little. There are sounds of traffic in the distance, but none nearby. The silence is peaceful. At least for now.

I close my eyes. The world feels so calm right now, even though I’m alone. I wish I could feel more of a connection to my mother. To know that she’s okay. To know she’s thinking of me, wherever she is.

A tear falls down my cheek. I hate the fact I’m so weak. I hate having no control over anything around me. I hate crying. I hate being a burden. I hate feeling so small. This whole damn planet should be mine! I can do whatever I want and have absolutely no fear of dying because of it! I mean, come on! There is literally nothing here that could kill me!

And that's when I realize the answer. This entire universe, this entire universe is full of energy and life and death. I am an energy source. My power, my light, my strength. Maybe it doesn't matter so much what I am. Maybe I could find another way to bring my mother closer – if she wanted. Maybe she could help me find a cure.

But, no. If there is anything this place wants to throw at me, it' s going to take a hell of a lot more to push me away. It wouldn't surprise me if people have tried to hurt me before, even though the damage hasn't spread beyond my body yet. And that makes me wonder just what kind of monster I am anyway.

What if my powers weren't enough? What if they weren' t strong enough to save my mother's soul? What if I was really useless? I'm already a danger to everyone around me. I can't be any more of one. How did I even get here, in the first place?

And why did I keep coming back after every disaster? Why did I keep returning back to this place, even when everyone in this whole universe hates me?

"You are so screwed."

My eyes snap open.

I look up into the dark, but there isn't anyone there. Just empty air above me.

Then I hear it.

The voice is distant – almost like it' s echoing. Or maybe just getting closer by the second. Either way, I can feel the sound resonating deep within my chest. I stand and listen intently. I don't recognize it, but that doesn't change the fact that it's coming from somewhere.

Slowly, cautiously, I turn my head this way and that in search of its origin. Then the voice comes again. More specifically, it speaks in a language I know very well. But the words don't make sense, not without context. I try and translate it as best as I can in my head. Then my brain finally connects the dots and I begin to see where I' m standing. I'm on a roof of some sort. It must be the tallest building here – if there's anything tall here. But I'm nowhere near high enough to reach the top. It seems unlikely I'll be able to climb up that side. Unless I've somehow grown wings or something. In which case, that might explain the floating sensation – I seem to be levitating in the air, but I haven't actually gotten any taller. The thing I'm most concerned with however is the voice itself – because if someone's trying to communicate with me directly, it means they're powerful. I'd rather not have to fight them – or worse yet, kill them – unless I have to.

Another figure emerges from the shadows, standing beside me. It's wearing an old fashioned suit, with a hat pulled low over his face. He stands perfectly still, staring down towards me, but he doesn't make a move to say anything. Instead, he stares straight ahead and raises his arms. Suddenly, his fingers curl inward and he brings one hand up to press against his forehead.

His fingers glow orange. Bright orange. Almost blinding in the dim lighting of the city streets. The figure drops his arm. His hat slides down his head as the glow fades. When it does, I' ll admit, I gasp in shock. Because this person is not human.

This person is an alien.

* * *

My first instinct is to run away, but something stops me. My feet stay glued to the rooftop beneath me. I can feel myself trembling, despite the fact that I'm fully clothed. And I know, logically, that I shouldn't be afraid of an unknown creature. I should be happy that I have someone to talk to, and not be scared. But something about the stranger unnerves me. He looks dangerous, and he's speaking English with an accent I'm not familiar with. Which makes me even more nervous. He must be able to read my mind somehow, and he clearly knows that. Maybe he knows everything.

He smiles a little. He takes a couple steps forward, still looking down at me with those piercing green eyes of his. "Do not be afraid," he says softly. He holds out his hand for me to take. "My name is Doctor Tylor."

I hesitate, but eventually I manage to take his hand. I'm pretty sure that this is not the most appropriate reaction, but I can't make myself let go. "Andy German," I reply.

Doctor Tylor gives a gentle tug and I quickly follow him along the edge of the rooftop. "We need to stop meeting like this, Daniel," he chuckles. We're walking across a wide expanse of ground now. The sky above us is darker than usual – even though it's barely five o'clock. "Your father won't be too happy about this."

"I don't think he has a choice in the matter," I retort dryly. "He's the boss, remember?"

"Hmm...I guess he is..." he replies. After a moment, he pulls me to a halt once we' re close enough to the edge. "Why don't you walk with me instead?"

That doesn't sit well with me, but I follow him anyways. Doctor Tylor walks slowly, carefully avoiding stepping on large boulders on the ground below us. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"I' ve noticed you haven't been eating lately," he says. "If your food supply was cut off in the middle of the night, it would be quite understandable."

"Yes, well, that would explain why I keep having nightmares."

"Dreams?"

I pause. "It's a long story."

He nods his head. "Alright. Well, how about you start by answering my question?"

I sigh deeply, unsure how else to deal with the situation. "It's hard to explain," I say. "I've had these nightmares since I was young." As soon as I speak the words, I notice that they ring strangely true. They may not have all been about me, but they were the same. A memory echoes through my head: me and mom sitting together in the darkness, eating breakfast. She always eats a bowl of cereal first so I'll eat my breakfast next. But I never eat my bowl of cereal before her. Even when she's sick or injured or asleep, I wait for her to wake up before eating. So what makes her sleep later than I do? Is there something wrong with me? Is there a virus infecting my body or something? Do I have radiation poisoning or something?

When I ask myself these questions, something inside me breaks. The tears start flowing freely again. "I miss Mom," I sob. "I miss Mom so goddamn much. I didn't want this. I wanted to grow up normally. I wanted normalcy. Normalcy is stupid, and it's boring, and I hate it. I hate feeling this helpless! What good am I? What have I ever done? Who are these people?! How did I end up here?!"

Doctor Tylor stops and turns to look at me. He reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder.

I shake it off immediately.

I'm used to people touching me. That's why I'm so uncomfortable now. Not because he touched me. I don' t want to touch him either, but the sudden movement causes his hat to fall backwards off of his head. He stares at me silently for a few moments before shaking his head. "So, you're hungry, then. You always get sad when you eat nothing but cereal." He shrugs. "Well, let's fix that."

"Fix it? Fix what?"

"Why don' t you just tell me what happened? We have time now. Come. Let us sit."

Doctor Tylor sits down on one of the rocks, patting the spot beside him.

I watch him warily. There are things I need to do. Important things. But I'm tired and hungry and upset and everything inside me feels heavy. And the last thing I want to do right now is go home. I'm surrounded by so many unfamiliar people – people who I don't understand, who I don't care about. I can't bring myself to trust them – and I don' t want to trust him. I don' t want to talk to this guy anymore. Not today.

But something inside me tells me that there will only be two solutions for both situations – one for me to join him and find out what the hell he wants with me, and one for me to leave. I just don' t know which is preferable. At least, I think.

As I stare down at him for another moment, I realize that this man, whoever he is, could easily hurt me. Or worse. And I don't really have a good reason to trust him right now. I mean – he obviously thinks I'm important somehow – but what exactly is he doing here? Does he work for my dad? Does he intend to attack me? If he does, I suppose I really ought to give him what he asked for. So I sigh, slowly lowering myself onto the rock next to him.

I feel a small, satisfied smile spread across his lips. I look away from him as he puts his hand over mine. "You're shaking," he whispers.

I don't answer him. Just try to pull away but, again, I can't move. I stare blankly out into the distance. I should probably focus on the task at hand. I don't know what he's planning. It could be anything. But it's best not to take the chance. If he intends to harm me I have no doubt that he'll try, if only to prove his point. So I just stay quiet.

He gently squeezes my hand and continues speaking. "You know, Andy…when I was younger…you know…"

"No. No I don' t," I interrupt.

He ignores me. He continues, "Well, when I was younger, I had a friend. She was my sister…"

"Your sister?"

"Yes," he replies, smiling fondly. He lifts his other hand to rest against his cheek. "She was beautiful. Taller than me. And just as brilliant." He lets out a chuckle, closing his eyes briefly as if reliving memories that he hasn't thought about in years. "She used to play with me all the time. And we would dance around and laugh until our stomachs hurt. I loved her very much…"

There's a softness about his voice that sends shivers down my spine. I almost can't bear to listen to him. I just want him to hurry up and leave. But I can see a faint smile on his face. He's remembering something pleasant. So I stay silent and look away from him, hoping that maybe it will make him continue talking. He laughs quietly. I look back to him quickly, surprised. His face changes immediately, his expression growing somber. I blink in surprise; suddenly Doctor Tylor seems more real than any hallucination or memory of him has ever been.

"We were friends for so long," Doctor Tylor continues, sounding faraway. He seems to be lost in thought. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't dead…" He shakes his head lightly. He doesn't seem angry at himself. "I knew that she was different. She was stronger than anyone else in our school, except me. And she had this way about her…"

"Doctor, what are you telling me?" I mumble.

He opens his eyes and focuses his attention on me. "She was born with Animation,"[The power to bring inanimate objects life] he explains. "The doctors told her mother, and her mother, in turn, told me, that she had an ability that I didn't share. My mother told me not to tell anyone, and I promised I wouldn't." Doctor Tylor smiles softly, "but eventually I couldn't control it anymore." He looks up, staring at the darkening sky above us. A tear rolls down the side of his face. "One day I just couldn't hold it in. I had to let it go." Another tear falls and drips off of his chin. He wipes it away quickly, turning back to me. His face is solemn again, but I can still catch a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I killed her," Doctor Tylor whispers after a brief silence between us. He lets go of my hand and folds his arms loosely, leaning forward a bit.

What am I supposed to say to that? To a complete stranger? I don't even really know what he wants with me! Why was this conversation suddenly making sense to me? Maybe it's because I finally stopped being afraid of him. Maybe it' s because my thoughts have turned to someone besides myself, my own problems. Suddenly everything is making more sense. "How?" I whisper. The word comes out in a croak.

"Oh, it's easy to kill someone," he says, shrugging indifferently. "It's not difficult. You just...do it. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can use your Ability to make the victim disappear completely. You put the person somewhere where nobody will remember them ever existed. Then they won't be missed."

I remain silent, waiting for him to keep talking. What did he say before? Something about using your Ability to make someone disappear? "Doctor, that sounds terrible."

"Oh, it isn't too bad actually. It helps with the grief, and it's usually not painful. It's just like getting rid of a problem. Like a pet. And sometimes it works wonders. It can heal a lot of mental illness. And the longer you live, the more you learn how to control it. For instance, my older brother and sister taught me that if you have enough time, you can even learn how to make someone forget that they've ever been human."

"That's messed up. You guys killed your own siblings."

"They were sick people. They deserved to die." Doctor Tylor shrugs, as if his statement shouldn't bother him as much as it does. As if killing your siblings was okay. As if killing yourself was okay. It doesn't make a difference.

My mind starts spinning. Is this man serious?

Does he really hate himself so much that he's willing to do all sorts of horrible things just to prove a point to himself? Or is he just saying that because he thinks that he deserves to kill his siblings? I don't know which is more likely.

Suddenly, without warning, he reaches out and grabs the front of my shirt, pulling me toward him forcefully. His hand is cold on the skin of my throat. "Who sent you?" He asks, his breath hot against my ear. "Who set you up? Was it him? Who gave you that little device? Tell me!"

I struggle weakly in his grasp. He tightens his grip on my shirt, pulling me closer. I gasp desperately for air. I don't know what he wants, and I don't want to answer his questions. But I also don't want to get hurt. And there's nothing more I can do to stop him. I'm trapped, unable to fight back.

And then suddenly, a flash of bright light flashes through the trees and I hear a loud bang. Someone runs straight past us. We both freeze. After a few seconds, I manage to turn my head slightly and see a tall, blonde woman wearing blue jeans running towards the bridge. I recognize her. It's Ara.

My heart leaps into my throat. My eyes widen. My breathing quickens. The doctor releases me abruptly and leans back. "Ara!" I call, scrambling to my feet, moving toward her as quickly as I dare. But he grabs my shoulder roughly and pulls me back down. "Let go!" I shout at him. "Get offa me!"

"Andy!" I look up quickly to find Ara coming directly toward us, still rushing as fast as she can despite the heavy raindrops that fall heavily around her. There's something wrong in her face. I can tell immediately that something is terribly wrong, but I can' t stop myself from looking over at the doctor. I try desperately to get free and run to Ara, but I have to struggle against his grip to get away.

He pushes me back, forcing me hard back down on my bum. I cry out in pain. The sudden movement makes me dizzy. Everything spins. I feel a strange mixture of anger and fear. I feel tears prickling at my eyes as I try desperately to get free. To help her.

But there's nothing I can do. Nothing I can do. He holds me tightly to his chest, pinning me to the grass beneath me. I'm trapped. Trapped underneath him. Trapped by his body weight, trapped beneath my own body.

Then suddenly there's a flash of light and I start screaming. In panic, I attempt to pull away, but suddenly there's another flash of light and I scream louder than before. I open my mouth, trying unsuccessfully to suck in a breath. I feel as though I' ve been stabbed repeatedly.

Everything goes black and I'm vaguely aware of feeling myself slipping away.

I wake to a blinding light flooding the room. I squint my eyes open blearily. My head aches and there's a throbbing behind my eyes. When the sunlight hits my closed lids, I groan loudly. There's a sharp sting on my forehead and my right eye twitches painfully. Groaning once again I try to reach up to rub it, only succeeding in flailing helplessly at the air beside me in frustration. I groan again.

Slowly I lift my hand to my forehead, wincing as I move. I try to push my body upward but fail miserably. My limbs feel weak and tired and my whole body hurts. When I glance around the room I can see that Doctor Tylor... his corpse is mutilated . Its limbs lie twisted and broken under it, as if it had been attacked mercilessly by wild animals. I close my eyes in despair. I feel like screaming. The sound ripples across the room like waves hitting the shore.

I open my eyes and see Doctor Tylor lying motionless on the ground next to me. His clothes are ripped and soaked in blood. A large gash covers his neck, and his left arm ends almost completely in the ground beneath him.

My vision swims, and I feel a strange urge to vomit rising within me. Slowly, I begin to sit upright.

...Did I do this to him? Did I kill him? Am I going crazy? This is all too much. This is not how I pictured my death.

Trying very hard to ignore the nauseating smell surrounding me, I slowly crawl to Doctor Tylor's dead body, grabbing his left wrist and examining it. My hands tremble violently, and my head pounds. Looking at him causes a flood of nausea to rise in me. His pulse is weak, beating erratically. I swallow hard, trying to force the bile down inside of me.

When did I become capable of feeling anything other than fear?

"I'm sorry," I whisper to his lifeless face.

Slowly, painfully.