"I know you're watching me," Thanh said. At check-in, the staff told him that the mirror in his room was two-way. This allowed the doctors to watch his progress through the treatment without the discomfort of seeing faceless doctors, nurses, and students staring at him.
The treatment was free as long as he agreed to this condition and thought he could. If he didn't see them, then why would it matter?
Once in his room, however, he learned that there was a catch. He would not see anybody during the treatment. Food was delivered through a box on the opposite wall of the mirror, and all test instructions were given through a speaker in the left corner above that box. Thanh had not seen another human being in a week.
Thanh needed to see another human being soon. He felt alone. Disconnected. The treatment was not worth this isolation.
The tests were simplistic. Thanh needed to use his telekinesis to move and manipulate objects. They started with easy tasks like juggling and continued to get harder each day. The objects in the food box got heavier, and he was asked to concentrate on more than one object at a time. Thanh felt the mental exertion of these exercises, which were part of the treatment to master his mental abilities. That and the small amounts of drugs in his food were designed to dampen his impressive power.
Thanh discovered that he could read minds but became scared when he learned that he could also control their minds. It was often an involuntary action on his part. People just did what he wanted them to do, so he sought treatment. The government found this lab willing to help him, and they laid out a strategy of mental exercises and medicine.
Thanh didn't realize how comfortable he was with the background noise of all the voices in his head -- until it was gone. With each passing day, the silence in his mind felt more and more like some part of him was being stolen. Thanh needed to get out. He needed the calming presence of those voices again.
They wouldn't let him out. They didn't even acknowledge his requests for release, even when they shouted at the soulless speaker. Instead, he continued to get food and tasks.
Thanh was no fool. He stopped eating the food and waited for the drugs to wear off. In the meantime, he worked on his telekinesis. If it was a muscle, he was going to make it stronger.
When he could no longer take the hunger, Thanh stared at the two-way mirror and finally lashed out. He smashed the mirror with his telekinesis. He never tried to use it as a destructive wave, but it worked. The mirror shattered.
He was excited to finally see people, but it was not a two-way mirror—it was a concrete wall.
"We can't let you out, Thanh," the speaker said. "We don't know how to treat your addiction yet."
Thanh fell to his knees, sobbing. Nobody told him that his mental abilities came with a caveat. He needed to be around people. He needed to hear their thoughts. He needed to mold their minds. He needed anything to keep from being alone.
Let me start by telling you that I'm not too fond of cats. I never have. They always seem to have an ulterior motive. They quickly shift from purring playfulness to attacking apex predators. I used to call them "demons" as a joke. It is no longer a joke.
I am sitting on the kitchen floor with a knife firmly in my hand, pointing at the cat. His eyes are glowing red, and his fur is standing up. If I didn't know any better, I would say he doubled in size. I think I got my breath back after an hour of the cat and me staring at each other in a standoff. What I am about to tell you will sound like an exaggeration, but I swear it is the truth.
It started with a dream come true. Sandra asked me to house-sit for the weekend while she jetted off to Paris. Sandra! Ask me! To housesit! I will let that sink in for a minute.
I've had a crush on Sandra since we met in college. I've spent most of that time trying to escape the dreaded friend zone. It seemed to be working. I was over at her house more often, making her meals. We talked more about our future aspirations, and I noticed how prominent I was becoming in her plans.
Sandra loved animals, particularly cats. She recently adopted an older cat named Muffin from the ASPCA and told me his tragic backstory. He bounced from home to home, always being returned to the shelter. They lost count after five, but nobody ever explained why Muffin was no longer welcomed. The staff found Muffin a joy, and to be honest, so did I. Every time I visited Sandra, Muffin would find his way to my lap.
Watching the house was easy. I spent the first day cleaning up (Sandra can be a mess) and fixing things around the house. It was fun, but I never saw Muffin. I just assumed he was hiding, waiting for Sanra to come back.
That night, however, I heard a strange sound. I can't describe it except to say, "This is how horror movies start." It was more of a deep grumbling or maybe an organic revving. At one point, I thought it was Buddhist monks chatting.
The following day, I saw Muffin—well, what I thought was Muffin. It was too big, but no other cats (or bears) were in the house. It had to be Muffin. At around noon, Muffin started attacking my legs. It was playful, I thought, until I noticed all the blood running down my leg. This is why I don't like cats, but Sandra will be home soon.
Then I heard it speak. I say it because Muffin was gone. There was no cute furry pet; it was a demon. No, I am not exaggerating. It chased me around the house for several hours, telling me that Sandra was his. I needed to go before something terrible happens to me.
I pulled out a knife to defend myself, but Muffin Demon continued to attack. It was direct and savage. See these cuts on my face? The rips in my shirt with deep gashes on my arms and chest? I finally managed to throw it off, and we've been sitting in this stalemate ever since.
It has not been silent. It wants to eat my eyelids. It wants to use my empty body cavity as a litter box. It was unnerving. I've never been that scared in my life.
When Sandra finally came home, Muffin turned around and ran to her. I don't know where the demon went, but Muffin soon purred softly in Sandra's arms.
Sandra didn't believe me when I told her what had happened. She giggled at the physical evidence up and down my body, calling it "horseplay." She was so glad that we were getting along.
She said her goodbyes, put Muffin down and walked into her house. Muffin sat and stared at me, his tail moving back and forth on the floor. As I walked out the front door, I heard his voice, which will forever haunt my dreams.
"I look forward to your next visit."
John found a letter next to the bag. Both were on his desk next to the morning coffee. His business partner, Mike, normally left him a coffee, but John had not seen him this morning. He took a sip of the coffee. It was his usual, so maybe he just missed Mike.
The bag was a medium sized drawstring bag made of well worn leather. John could imagine it as a prop for some medieval or steampunk movie.
The note was a little more conventional. His name was on the envelope. He immediately recognized the handwriting when he pulled a single page letter out, but he was unsure why Mike would write him a letter rather than text him.
"Dear John,
My apologies for not being with you when you find the presents I left you in this magical bag."
John stopped and looked at the bag again. "Magical bag?" he said to himself. He continued reading.
"Yes, it is magical. If you reach in, you will find some presents."
It wasn't too surprising that Mike knew what John might be thinking. They had been working together for over a decade creating their company from nothing.
John reached into the bag and pulled out a picture frame of a dollar bill signed by both John and Mike.
"I wanted you to have this. It was from our first sale. Do you remember the night? We signed the contract and didn't have anything to commemorate the occasion. You ordered take out from our favorite restaurant, and gave it to Gus, that homeless man that we used to pass every day to our low budget laboratory, and you asked him for a dollar bill. I was so surprised that he gave it to you.
You promised me that we would never be like Gus. Regardless of our success or failure, we would always be a team.
That night changed everything for me. I knew that we were a team, and that we would weather any storm together. We were able to build on that trust to create the company that dominates the market today. Thank you, thank you, thank you."
John smiled. He fondly remembered that night. It took more than a meal to get that dollar bill from Gus. He haggled better than most boardroom negotiators. John laughed at the memory.
John reached back into the bag, and pulled out a small bag of seeds. Another great callback. He started reading again.
"Can you believe it? We engineered our own plant! Being around you inspired so many ideas, and these seeds are the proof. We were able to develop critical ingredients for life-saving medicines after we learned how to safely and neutralize the toxins found in both the seeds and the plants.
"I am so proud of the achievements we were able to do. I was going to add the awards we won as a result of our groundbreaking work (their words, not mine, lol), but I thought the seeds would be a better reminder."
"I think so, too," John said to himself as he reached back into the bag. THis time, he gripped a house key.
"This is the key to my parent's home."
John stopped. Mike's parents died mysteriously a few months ago, but it looked like Mike was moving on with his life. He read on.
"It was in their attic that I found this bag. My dad said he got it from his time in Southeast Asia, but he was fuzzy on the details. He always looked for the unique and unusual -- and then hoarded it away. How wild is that?
"I also learned that there is a lien on their house. I tried to sell it after they passed, and that is when I learned that it was soon to be foreclosed. I think my parents chose to go on their own terms when they discovered they were going to lose their home."
John's heart started beating a little faster. This was not good. This was not good at all. He rushed to find the next object. It was an RSA Token.
"You probably pulled out the RSA Token. This is to your bank account. Your bank account in the states. I took the liberty of moving all the money you embezzled and hid in your offshore accounts. Don't worry, every dime is accounted for, so it will be an accurate count when the federal authorities seize your assets.
"I won't ask why you did it. I am sure you have your reasons. I imagine it is the mistresses that you keep on the side. It didn't look like their tastes in luxury were affordable, but I didn't spend too much going through your spending line-by-line. I didn't need to. I just needed to figure out why my parents lost their house. You never paid them back for their investments into our dream.
"I won't even ask how you could do this to us. I thought we were a team, but I was wrong in the tune of several million dollars.
"Sadly, I am not sure what will happen first: the company's insolvency or federal prosecution.
"I realize that you are panicking. Don't worry. We are almost done, and I strongly encourage you to pull the last item out.
John jammed his hand into the bag one last time. He reached for his cell phone with his other hand.
He pulled out a small vial.
"This is the cure to the drug I dosed your coffee with. I also met your wife this morning for coffee. She didn't believe me when I told her about your betrayal. Fortunately, she drank the coffee.
"Our seed is very toxic, but we managed to find an antidote for accidental poisoning. I will not know who you plan to save, yourself or your wife. I am taking a dose after I drop this letter and bag on your desk. You did an excellent job entangling me in your web of lies.
"I will close my eyes to remember that night with Gus. Thank you for the success, the friendship, and the sense of belonging. No matter how fleeting it was."
She didn't lookup up from the cracks in the sidewalk, nor did she turn down the street to go home. Instead, she just kept walking.
"Inivisible," Jamie repeated to herself. "Be invisible."
She walked briskly, but not too fast. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. If she was lucky, nobody would notice her.
"Jamie?" she heard from behind her. "Hey Jamie, wait up!"
Jamie stopped and looked up at the sky before closing her eyes in exasperation. When she opened them, she was still visible.
Franklin was her best friend since forever. She couldn't ignore him. Besides, maybe he didn't know yet.
"Tough break," he said when he caught up to her. "I just read it on the socials."
Of course it was on the socials. She had a better shot at vanishing than hiding anything from the socials.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said. It came out rougher than she wanted. She started walking again with her head down.
"It isn't the end of the world," he said as he tried to keep up. She was no longer trying to keep a measured pace. She was walking much quicker hoping he wouldn't see the tears that were now leaking from her eyes.
"Where are we going, anyway," he asked.
"We aren't going anywhere," she said. "I need to be alone." Her voice revealed more than she wanted. It was shaky as the tears started streaming.
"Hey," he placed his hand on her shoulder. "I am not going anywhere."
She stopped and crouched down curling herself into a ball. Everything came out as she sobbed uncontrollably. He crouched along side her with his arms around her. He didn't say anthing. He just hugged her.
"She was my friend," Jamie said after the first wave of tears passed. Her voice was muffled by her arms that covered her face.
"What happened?" he asked.
She looked at him. Her eyes were red with makeup streaking her cheeks. "You read it on the socials," she yelled.
"They only said that you asked Barb on date," he replied. He pulled out his phone for her to see. "Barb said that she didn't like girls like that, and that you ran off."
"I told her that I had a crush," Jamie said. "She asked if it was Alex, and I said no. She said that I should be braver and tell my crush how I felt."
Jamie wiped her nose the back of her sleeve and gulped for some air.
"She looked at me in the eyes," Jamie continued. "I thought she knew. I thought she was telling me to let her know, so I told her how I felt about her."
"And then what happened," Franklin asked.
"She didn't say anything," Jamie said after a long pause. "Then somebody behind me, Julie I think, said that I was queer and had the hots for Barb. Everybody started laughing."
"Julie has her own problems," Franklin said trying to be as supportive as he could.
"Barb laughed with them," Jamie said. "And then said that she didn't like girls like that. She said that she didn't know those types of girls."
"Well," he said, "she probably didn't. This is a small town."
"SHE KNOWS ME!"
"People say and do stupid things when they are scared," he said calmly.
"I just want to disappear," she said with her head back in her arms.
"You may have more support than you think," he said.
"Thank you," she said. "You are the bestest of all best friends. I will make sure that you can still me when I turn invisible."
He could hear the humor in her voice returning. He chuckled and squeezed her shoulder with one hand while shoving the phone under her arms with the other. The screen was still on the post.
"Thank you," he said with a smile. "I would hate to think I would never see you again, but I didn't mean me. Look."
He swiped through the comments with his thumb. She saw several mean comments about her sexuality, but they stopped when a growing number of other comments that called out the bullies. The rest of the comments were overwhelmingly supportive and kind.
She looked up at him bewildered. It didn't make any sense.
Her phone rang. It was Barb. She looked back at Franklin paniked.
"Give her a chance," he said. "You did something that required a lot of strength. Maybe she will, too."
Her finger trembled as she reached for the answer button, and the entire phone shook as she put it up against her ear. She didn't know what to expect, but it was not what she heard Barb say.
"I am so sorry. That wasn't fair of me, and I feel horrible. I was too shocked to say what I was thinking. I should have taken my own advise and been braver." Barb paused. "I was too scared to say what I wanted to say. Yes, Jamie, I would love to go on a date with you."
