The Last Superhero by Astrid 'Artistikem' Cruz Page A

I don't get to see until we've sat on
the bed next to us and he's released my hand and is thinking, hard.
    I peek at the pic and see
what it is. A portrait of a woman hugged to a younger him.
    Great. This is just what I
need. An ex popping her head in.
    “ Genevieve,”
he says under his breath.
    Did I say she looks all
pretty and lithe and all those adjectives I've never used on myself?
    “ Maybe
I should go.”
    “ I
killed her, Giana. Exactly like I'll end up killing you if this
happens again.”
    “ Do
you even know what goes on in your nightmares?”
    “ It's
a strange feeling. You know it is you, but you can't control
yourself.”
    I'm about to talk, but he
sighs and I shut up.
    “ Being
me is nothing but a curse, though I never thought it'd turn out to be
like this,” he starts, then pauses, then starts again. “I
found her inside a train wreck back in '84. I was living in Scotland
at the time and, as soon as I heard about the accident, I headed
towards there to aid with the rescue. I remember prying her from the
wreckage, she'd gotten stuck between seats.”
    “ Was
she okay?”
    “ She
was, yes. Minor injuries only. I wasn't wearing my mask, I hardly
used it anymore and only used the telekinesis in a way that no one
would notice.” A beat. “The stench of blood, the cries,
it was all so overwhelming. She was quiet, though, as if she wasn't
feeling any pain and was just there waiting to be rescued. A fellow
passenger had been holding her head on her lap and, once she was
free, led me out. I carried her towards a grassy area where the
wounded were being treated and when I turned to go back, she took my
wrist, looked into my eyes and said in a very low voice: Thank you.
Two words that struck me like no blow had ever done before. Two words
you wish to hear every time you do something good, but being a
superhero somehow leads people to believe you're not entitled to
them.”
    I see. I see it now.
    “ It's
tiresome, how easily they forget that even with your abilities,
you're still part human, that you have feelings. My father had told
me about that, how they'd prefer to flee the scene instead of wait
for those words that would never come, because you did what you were
supposed to do and that's it. You want to help, don't get me wrong,
I'm not talking about selfishness here but exposing yourself to such
dangers and getting nothing in return tends to make one bitter.”
    Insert heavy pause here.
    “ She
spent some time in the hospital because of a previous condition that
was rekindled by the accident. I went to see her and she looked so
fragile, so pale, yet her eyes were so full of life. It made me
suddenly aware that there was still some life inside me too since, at
that point, I had practically given up on everything and everyone.”
    “ Did
she know who you were?”
    “ I
revealed my true identity to her and it didn't deter her from
contacting me. Soon enough, we were too involved to deny our mutual
attraction. The first time I tapped into her mind and saw her dreams,
her desires, I learned how much she'd suffered in life and that all
she wanted was someone she could pour her love into. She knew who I
was, who Salvatore Jr. was, and still she was willing to make me the
object of her affections. It was troubling; I didn't want anything to
do with anyone, but she managed to crack the walls I'd constructed to
keep humanity away. Thing was, right after we moved in together, she
fell even more ill and the doctors had no idea what was wrong with
her. Then she'd spend some time in the hospital and get better, only
to get ill again once she was back with me. It was horrible. I felt
so impotent, so incapable. It wasn't until it was too late when she
told me about the nightmares and I was so angry and, at the same
time, so worried about her. Her already weak heart couldn't take it.”
    A long, loud, languid,
lingering sigh. Hazel eyes turn to me with such fear I can't deny.
    “ I
can't lose you, Giana. I can't