...are like this.
She is crying like there is no tomorrow, like she is trying to recreate the Sumerian flood (forty days forty nights grief to pass) and Jane sits by her on the bed, stroking her back in soothing circles like her mother. The girl stops crying, and sits silently for a few, never-ending moments while Jane tries to figure out what to do. She knows what she could do, and she doesn’t dare. It’ll break the poor girl, and illusions never meant sanity. (She always wondered what happened to the villains that got away, and if they spent their nights screaming for what she couldn’t give them.)
---
“Please.” It’s a year later, and she’s asking for the candy that will make her sick. No, worse than sick. Jane is more than loath to comply, so she refuses. She does this work for the government when they blackmail her, threaten her, and she won’t torture her best friend for immortality.
Giving in will make it worse. Jane always secretly thought, in her one piece of egotism, that her power was the most damaging out of everyone’s. Physical power was only so much—you can break, burn, melt, stretch, kill—but mental powers could unravel others like string in tapestries. She acknowledges that changing other’s thoughts to wreak revenge, or havoc, or pain through their own actions is near the ninth circle of hell. But perhaps her power is the worst. She can create their deepest desires, but she won’t give it to them. She will show them their dreams, their wishes, and knows that when they reach for the pretty picture she’s dangling in front of them, they will not get it. By now, Jane knows they will keep trying.
Yes, it's gorgeously depressing! Thank you for playing, and see you next time! (Make sure to get those cuts on your forearms treated first!)
