I walk back into my room, everything exactly where I left it. The desk, the MacBook, the notebooks.
I grab the chair by the backrest, meaning to just move it a little. But instead I swing it so hard it flies into the air, smashes against the wall, and bounces back. The sound is so loud I freeze mid-movement, standing there with my hand stretched out into empty space. I stare for a moment, then the corner of my mouth twitches.
Of course.
A quiet laugh slips out of me. "You've gotta be kidding me," I mutter and glance toward the door, just in case I woke someone up.
I hold my breath and listen, nothing. The house stays silent. No footsteps, no annoyed "Vex, what are you doing up there?!"
I breathe out in relief and curse myself in silence.
"Spider-Man," I smirk to myself, pick the chair up from the floor, and this time pull it toward me carefully, barely touching it.
For the first time tonight, it feels like there's at least something left inside me that belongs to the old me.
I sit down at the desk, the chair behaving this time, and turn on my MacBook. My fingers hover over the keys for a moment, the screen lighting up my face. I stare at the empty Google page like I'm waiting for the universe to explain itself.
I start typing.
Searching everything I can think of .
"loss of heat sensitivity," "unnatural strength," "new body," "overnight transformation," "weird skin, black fluid"... words I wouldn't even have imagined yesterday, not even in my worst nightmares.
I'm hoping to find something, anything, that makes sense.
But all I find are forums where people make up their "abilities."
One guy claims he can turn invisible.
Another says he hears people's thoughts.
Someone else complains that his eyes change color when he's angry.
Sure..
Dozens of threads, hundreds of comments, but everything reads like roleplay or someone begging for attention.
I click through more and more posts. Memes everywhere. Crazy theories about vampires and superheroes. Ghost stories. Blurry photos of nothing.
No one talks about what I'm feeling.
No one describes what it's like to touch your own skin and feel nothing.
To stand in boiling water and feel neither heat nor cold.
No one like me.
I stop.
I sit there staring at the glowing screen.
For a moment, I want to slam the MacBook shut and throw it at the wall or laugh at how stupidly normal the world is while I'm already somewhere else entirely.
Instead, I just sit there.
Watching the blinking cursor.
Realizing for the first time all night how horribly alone I am.
There's no answer.
No manual.
Just a lot of people pretending to be something.
I turn my head away from the screen and run my hand over my face, my neck, my shoulders.
Just the cold, empty touch of a body that doesn't feel like mine.
And the silence that's left after everything.
I close the MacBook and drag my palm down my face with a long exhale. The room is quiet, the furniture creaks now and then, the heating rumbles, outside is a night that still doesn't feel quite real. I crawl into bed, pull the blanket up to my chin, and stare at the ceiling, waiting for tiredness to kick in.
But it doesn't.
Before, I'd be wrecked by now. Heavy, aching, everything inside me tight and exhausted. My head would spin from fear and tension. But now... nothing. My body is tense, but not tired. I close my eyes, and immediately open them again. My brain is running at full speed. My heart beats steady, unfazed.
Time feels stretched out, strange.
The lines of light from the street crawl slowly across the ceiling.
Everything is sharp. Clean. Hyper-real.
I lie there, trying to remember what it felt like to be normally tired, to let yourself sink into sleep, down into that messy darkness full of thoughts that pin you to the mattress. But now... the thoughts aren't there.
The silence in my head is clean.
Like someone swept every corner of my mind.
It occurs to me that maybe... this is just another level.
Another version of me.
An upgrade.
What if this is only the beginning?
What if I was supposed to be reborn, torn apart in the dark so something stronger could crawl out?
Maybe I really am a better version of myself.
Maybe this all had to happen.
It's strange.
Terrifying.
But there's something soothing in it, Piece I've never known.
My mind is silent.
The bad thoughts don't return.
The weight on my chest is gone.
I lie in the dark, searching for even a hint of tiredness.
Instead, I feel a quiet kind of freedom spreading through me.
For the first time in my life, I don't feel like running.
And suddenly...
it all makes sense.
I wake up to the first rays of light slipping through the blinds.
Before, that moment crushed me, every morning.
Heavy head, weird taste in my throat, the feeling that all I'm waking up to is another day of pretending.
A clown forcing a smile to hide the emptiness.
But today... today is different.
I open my eyes, inhale deeply.
The air is cold and fresh, flooding my lungs with a sharp burst of energy that almost makes me smile.
My head is light.
My thoughts calm.
No heaviness.
No dread.
Nothing lurking.
Just quiet.
I lie there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, letting that strange strength wash through me. I want to get up, do something, play music, run, laugh. Not to force it, but because I actually feel it.
I laugh into my pillow.
For the first time in forever, it's not an act.
Not survival.
Not a mask.
Today, I'm just... me.
And it feels good.
I get up, stretch, muscles responding smooth and strong. The world looks sharp, clean, like someone washed the windows of reality overnight.
I walk into the kitchen leaving jokes and sarcasm behind me. The twins are half-asleep, messy, drinking cocoa with pajama buttons undone. Before they can react, I grab both of them and spin them around until they scream.
"Morning workout!" I laugh, hugging them tight like I'm trying to share half the energy running through me.
Mom turns from the counter, surprised when I pull her into a real hug. Full, warm, none of the distant half-touches I usually give.
"Good morning, Mom," I grin, practically twelve years old for a second.
She blinks at me, a little stunned, a little soft around the edges.
I sit at the table and inhale breakfast. Bread, eggs, yogurt, everything I see. While everyone else is barely chewing, I'm shoveling it down like I haven't eaten in days.
"I'm starving, seriously, like I haven't eaten in a week," I laugh, mixing yogurt with eggs and another slice of bread.
Mom gives me a suspicious look.
"Did you stole my pot?"
I freeze mid-bite, pretend to be offended, spread my hands dramatically.
"No, Mom, this is just pure joy of existence! Or... maybe someone upgraded my stomach in my sleep." I wink at the kids. They burst out laughing.
"Just hope it lasts, star," Mom says with a smile real.
I soak in every second of the morning.
Every touch.
Every laugh.
Everything sharp and loud and alive.
While I'm swallowing another piece of bread, Tommy whispers to his sister, "I think Vex's a werewolf.."
She nods seriously. "Or he's sick. Or he finally grew muscles!" She pokes my arm.
I gasp dramatically.
"You two should show some respect to your favorite older brother!"
Tommy throws a piece of bread at me, laughing.
Mom shakes her head.
"Vex, slow down or your stomach will explode. And you two, settle down or no pancakes!"
Then my phone buzzes — Peter:
"Bro, I'm going to school ONLY because of you. If you skip, I'm breaking into your house."
I smile at the screen and text him back.
I grab my bag, gather my stuff, about to leave when Mom steps in front of me. She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. That look — part worry, part relief — I know it too well.
"You always smile..." she says softly,
"...but today is the first time in a long while I believe you. It's good to see you like this. Really."
I don't know what to say.
So I just smile, genuinely.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'm good. Honestly."
She hugs me, fast and firm.
I hug her back, maybe for the first time with real gratitude.
I wave to my family, her words echoing in my head.
For the first time, I'm not lying. For the first time, it feels like this body, this life, this day... actually belong to me.