Bob? Who is Bob? Why are we talking about Bob? Now you see, Bob is a fictional character, he is real to me, yet he is fictional to you. In fact, I myself am a fictional character to you, yet for a time I was real to myself. To be clear with you, my name is Michael Destin, and my life is boring because I have made it so. Yet if I wanted, and with what you'll read, you will think my life is interesting. But remember, my life is not real, my life is nothing but the story that you are reading. Beyond this story, I am nothing but the most boring it can get.
I was cursed with the ability to bend reality to the finest atom. I can most definitely do whatever I please. I found this out at a very young age, when I was mad at my parents and wished for their disappearance.
How much I wish I could bring them back? Well I don't have to wish, I could bring them back, but they probably wouldn't be the same. As in their souls that is.
After that moment rarely did I dabble in my power. I did occasionally, but all that came out from doing such things was chaos.
Tired of the destruction, I tried my hardest to forget I had the power to begin with, but some moments, like moments of rage or forgetfulness, I might accidentally do something that I would regret. I remember one time in my algebra class, which was a class I usually enjoyed since my power needed to be explained somehow, I was mad at the teacher. In fact, that day I was mad at the whole class, they asked dumb questions, and I fathomed their idiocracy. I accidentally did something that I won't talk about for your own personal benefit, but bringing people back after the extirpation of their existence is useless. While I could create a copy of them, their souls will never be the same.
Now back to Bob, he was my best friend. Bob and I went back all the way to when my parents disappeared and I was put into the foster system.
Now Bob was quick to accept my abilities, he didn't even question them, he just accepted that I was abnormal. This made Bob my favorite human (to clarify, ever since it came to my realization what I could do, I never saw myself as human again, not of god either). Bob found out originally because we were talking about chocolate. I had started day dreaming of a chocolate bar I had when I was younger. Without realizing, the chocolate had appeared in my hand, taking the place of the apple I was originally holding. I started to question how much my power would take me over if I couldn't even think of chocolate without messing up.
I gave Bob the chocolate bar.
At lunch once, I overheard a student talking about super powers, and how he would kill for super speed. I usually didn't use my power out of fear of not being able to control it, but I decided to give the kid super speed by snapping my finger. I didn't tell him because sometimes people just need something nice to happen to them without knowing who did it.
When arriving home I let Bob know what I had done. Bob was beyond ecstatic. He went on and on about what power he could have, as if it seemed so cool. I told Bob that I didn't even know if the super speed would work out for the kid, but Bob didn't listen.
The next morning Bob begged for teleportation. I warned him that for this power he would most likely have to heavily focus his mind to teleport his whole body. Bob promised that he would be safe with it, and not over use it or be idiotic.
Bob, out of fear, rejected trying to use it.
The next few years passed, and Bob fell in love. Everyday he would stumble to me somehow, even in my undisclosed locations, and tell me about her. Her sweetness, her joy, and how much he loved her. I was happy for Bob.
I told Bob that I was excited for him, and that he should confess all of this to her, not me. But out of fear Bob said he avoided doing so because she was rich, Anna Marley from the Marley family, that was the girl, and Bob, well Bob was poor.
Anna Marley was spoiled in riches the moment she was born. The Marley family ran business in the cash protection industry, like armored trucks and the transportation of said money and temporary hold in vaults for safety.
To say I wasn't suspicious would be a lie, but yet I felt nothing about it and didn't care. Why would I care about it in a world where crime happens all the time? And if I wanted to, I could stop it. Anna herself didn't do anything when it came to her parents business, she worked and studied as a botanist. She cared for her garden morning to night, a true florist. In the words of Bob, "Michael you must listen to me, she's just perfect I tell you! She smells like flowers all day, her fragrance is that of a goddess.".
She, presumably, smelled this way all the time, a never ending fragrance of flowers.
Bob's fear made sense, her parents were profoundly rich, and she is protected by it. I presume Bob would have a chance if he had a stable job, but Bob always seems to get fired. He would need to make enough money to care for Anna and let her care for her garden uninterrupted.
I told him not to worry about it, to just give me a few days, that I could take care of our money problem. I said I would use my ability for the first time in while. Bob skipped away like a little child in love.
While using my ability to put cash into my hands and put them into bags, I suddenly got curious about the kid I had given super speed to, so I put myself in a dimensional pocket to spectate how his life had gone. He apparently had super speed, but only his body, not his mind. When he had gotten into a situation in which he needed to run to quickly get to his car, he ran too fast, and smashed his body into the car and died instantly. I quickly realized flaws with super powers in the real world, the strictness of their theoretical power was not that of the tv shows and comics. I went to go get Bob, to tell him to never use his teleportation. As I walked into his room I watched his body disappear, as all his insides remained, and spilled all over the floor. I guess he had suddenly had the courage to teleport and talk to her, yet I didn't find out why he tried, I would rather live not knowing.
I don't really want to talk about the rest, I saw Bob's organ-less husk of skin. And I then again refused to ever use my powers. I made Bob nothing but a fictional story that I carried around in a notebook.
Anna Marley's parents, slowly getting older, passed the business down to her. She did barely any of the work, instead she hired a financial advisor and team to do the work for her.
She was only for the public eye.
She made time for her garden at all times, even having one at her office. I kept tabs with her because I made myself her friend to try to make up for my sins by being able to comfort her or save her if ever given the chance.
I didn't pry too much into her personal life, but I do know that they occasionally had parties where they would have meetings talking about their drug selling funds and activities.
They were addicted to making others sin, but refused to become addicted to their own products and cravings they gave others.
4 years later, I was invited to Anna Marley's rich bastard party. I accepted out of pure boredom.
Bob joked with me one time saying something along the lines of, "If I ever die, you better take care of Anna for me, for I love her dearly and you could love her too when I am gone."
Seeing Anna Marley in person though, I realized the actual extent of her beauty. She had this smile, one I care not to explain, because it would be useless to make you fall in love too.
A laugh, in which I'm sure if explained, you would laugh with me thinking about it. An aura that would give you a high just thinking of the feeling of being around her. I will not make you, a real person, think about someone as I felt about her. Even though Bob was now fictional I still felt guilty feeling this way for her after a few mere hours of being with her..
I pushed myself and my pride to ask her to dance, I told myself, "This is all in remembrance of Bob Franklin.".
The following of what I'm about to clarify, in which it might answer some of your questions, is why I've come to despise my power to the point that I do.
Now that said, while I was dancing with her in the center of the ball room, I happened to, then again, think of her fragrance of flowers, her sweetness and beauty.
In this action of thought, I was not paying attention to my abilities and she slowly, while hugging me, painlessly turned into a flower. The flower itself smelt just like her. Out of a guilty conscience I made reality the world where Anna Marley never existed, a story in a notebook.
Now because the dance was centered around Anna Marley, I changed the world in the sense that people of higher riches always party and dabble in their sins. I did this so that there would be a reason for them to meet up and do the things they do. I made them addicted to the very addictions they give people. Out of spite I also made them always crave just one more dollar than the last. If you hate rich people, hate me, for I made them as they are.
I've come to question myself if I am even in reality. Maybe I'm in a pocket dimension of exploitable atoms and regulations. This information though, I will never come to find out, and I have to live with not only my sin but the power I have, and the sins I have made others do. Without reality, there is no reason to live. And since I lack reality I do not deserve to exist. Will I be able to bend reality past my existence? When I'm gone what can I do? I will never know.
From this day on, Michael Destin will never be anything but a fictional story, a cautionary tale.