One final battle to end this. One final battle to relieve the loss and realise the mistakes. The final moments of someone who has lost control of their superpowers and as a result their mind and body.


1. The End

I’m a villain but I’ve lost control. Every part of me is giving up and now I cannot feel like I once did. No love, no pleasure and not even a slight glimpse of hatred. Not many people hope for hatred but it was the one thing I had tying me to my humanity. Like everything else though it left me for dead.

My family left when I killed my brother, my friends ran when they saw my demons and humanity left when I ended my relationship with emotions. Everything is lost and nothing can be found.

I emerge from the shadows trying my best not to become myself. Where did it all go wrong? Strength is supposed to be the game changer. It is supposed to make a mouse into a lion not a mouse into a mouse wearing the cloak of a lion.

My failures cost me my life; my failures lost me my humanity but I don’t know which is worst.

Feathers float down past my face as I begin my final fight. My strength should protect me but I lost control.

I punch at it hard, striking its hide, knocking it down. After a short intake of breath I drop to my knees clutching at my stomach. My dignity lost.

In anger I wave, I wave the monster away feeling as it collides with the floor. Feeling as I lose my heart one chamber at a time.

My heart gone I claw at this being that shares my dislike for mercy. So many similarities. Too many similarities. The gaping hole in my chest is filled with the one thing I have over this creature. The pure burning of loss.

It claws at me and I duck but still feel the impact of a thousand bullets. I’ll never make it. My strength is too powerful.

This is all about me and I don’t care. I lost my care when they blew it out of me in an attempt to disarm the limbs they call mine. They are not mine. Mine were lost when I woke up from my dreamland.

They strike and blow and shoot and I fall and claw and scream. For we are each other and they are the strong me. The strong me that could fight with pure wit and compassion. Not the me that was given strength by a witch so they could hold off the bullies at school physically. The me that put up with the bullies for 16 years never losing sight of who I was- the nerd in the library.

I lost her when I got the powers you read about in books and are the greatest. And that’s how I lost my youth. When I realised I am not a book character who needs physical strength- I am a nerd who needed to stick to her roots and never dream about hurting one person let alone thousands.

As they, she, I pull a hand back for a final knock I prepare myself to lose myself. I am glad to be rid of this poisonous carcass but a part of my still dreams of something that could never be. In the moment I realise something could still be there my vision goes black. Silence.

I try to grasp what is happening, the feeling of nothing returning like an old friend, but then I feel the impact. I don’t know what is happening, what happened or what will happen but I do know that if you fight yourself you will always lose. There is no chance of survival. You will lose and you will regret.


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...