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Record, Psychologist Office, Session #1
Hi Doc! So, what do I do? Lay on that? No way! If I lay on that, I will feel like a crazy person, and I am not crazy, I have just too many questions, and nobody can answer them. I just decide to come here, so maybe I would understand why I have those questions. Can I just take that chair, and talk man to man. Thanks.
My name is Ripley Blisston... I am a mutant, yeah. Well... I am not sure. When I was born, I had a normal tone of skin, dark hair. A wellborn baby and I was tough enough to survive a dysfunctional family... what do I mean? My father was drinking all his wage, coming back home late, make his things with my mother, hitting her to make sure she obeys, and sleep before going to the shop the next day. My mother was just too much in love, or too afraid, or too pathetic to just do something about the situation. Her best friend was the Prozac. That story was my story for the nine first years of my life. I didn't understand at that time what was happening. I thought it was normal. I thought those thing was happening in every home. My father forbids me to go to another home. I think he was scared that I would have spoken to somebody else of what I was seeing. So I saw my friends only at school, so I had no strong bound of friendship for my first year of school.
Anyway, at that time, I was already starting to become weird. My mother thought I was sick, as my color of skin was paler and was starting to turn blue. My hairs were paler, but nothing out of range of normal humans, so she didn't saw that yet. We go see a dermatologist, and he said that there was nothing abnormal to my skin, except it was pale. He even made a test to see if I was a mutant, but the test said I was a normal human. That's why I said I wasn't sure I am a mutant. My DNA says no, but my pale blue skin and my silver hair have a tendency to make my DNA lie. I may not be a mutant, but I am not a normal human.
You want to come back on my father... well, as I said, he drank his entire wage, so he was never there. I learn to not bother him, so he didn’t care about me. Always better than receiving his fist on my shoulder because I just interrupt his football game at the moment his team scored. Yeah, many time, he hit me more than I can count, but since I was six years old, not once. As I said, I've learned not to bother him. When I was nine, he just left the home. I don't even know what happen. I think he just never come back. I would not even be surprise he was found dead, and they never found where he was. We never heard of him again, and my mother didn’t report that to the police. I think that relieved her.
The hour is finished? Well, I think I'll have to see you next week. Fine with me.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #2
Hi Doctor. Finally I decided to come back. I know, it's been a month. What make me change my mind? I have my reason... so, where do we start today? After? Oh! After my father
quit us...
Well, as I said, my mother starts to take some good, both physically and mentally. She starts to take care of her, she starts to work. She was rarely at home, as she had to work long hours to pay the school, the apartment, the food and all, but the moment I spend with her was better than the time she was crawling at my father feet. She was working in a restaurant, finishing pretty late at night. Her weekend was generally the Monday and Tuesday. She wanted me to have some company while she was at work, so she bought me a dog. We called it Ami. It mean friend. I was pretty close to him.
So I was able to finish my elementary school. But after that my mother starts to get sick on a regular basis, missing more and more job. She was winning less money, and the bill for the doctor was going up. So I start to distribute the newspaper. The money I won was half for my mother, half for my expense. But soon, it goes worst, and my mother asks me to get rid of Ami. I couldn’t, so I start to pay for him, and my expense were pretty small. I even had to find more work, cutting lawn for people. We lived like that for a whole year, but finally, my mother lost her job. It is at that time I left the school and my small jobs for a serious one, in a small snack. I was working as much as I can, but I had to take care of my mother too. Almost two years like that... and... well... it finish when she died. The bill was too high, she had to stop to go see her doctor, and it took only one month before she died. I never knew what was afflicting her. The doctor never told me. I continue to work at the snack, but it took only a few months before Ami was taken by some sickness. But for him, I know what it was; it was the solitude that kills him. The sickness was just the physical representation of it. I was never at home, always working. With him gone, I just quit my job. I didn't have the spirit to work.
I stayed home, seeing no one for over a month. During that time, I've found the book collection of my mother. Curious, I start to read them. It seems, for many weeks, I was unable to do anything else than that. Seeing my money disappearing, I started to beg. Begging at day, reading at night. I was reading many things. I didn’t know my mother loved that much books. One day, I was reading Oliver Twist, and I thought it was lame for me to have such live. Surprisingly, begging pay well enough, but still, it doesn't give a view of self very good. So I've put the only cloth that look like clean and I started to search for a job.
I finally found one at the neighbor newspaper. The pay wasn't great, but the money was there. I start with some administrative work, but having read a lot of book, I was giving some critic on many articles we were publishing. The owner of the newspaper, sick to hear me told me: "Prove me that you can do better, or shut your mouth!" Well, something likes that. I think it was more aggressive. He wasn't in a good mood that day. So I've written an article on the beggars. I was talking with them, taking some information, but you know, I had no pity for them. I had lived their live. As I get out of there, I thought it was lame from them that they were doing nothing else than begging. I give a sensible article, one who could touch many hearts, so they told me. So they took me as a reporter. Since that time, I work for them, making some report on subject like criminality, suicide, violence. What amazed me the most in that, it is I was insensible to all that. It didn't touch me. I was writing like if I was sensible to the subject, but I wasn't giving a damn to it. Why I talk in pass... well, it isn't the case anymore, well, it is... different.
Hour finish? I would thank you if I wasn't paying you. Cya next time.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #3
Hey Doc. How are you? How your wife? What, you don't have one? Any sight on a girl? OK, ok, you ask the questions...
What do you mean... You think I lied? I didn't lie. No, I hadn't any problem with my physical appearance. Nobody really cared. Yeah, there is always some extremist who looks at you and tell you that you are a freak, but compare to some I have seen, it happen rarely. Even if it is obvious that I am a mutant, it seems that my natural grace and kind of beauty make people more open to the fact I am a mutant. It looks like I am easily at home in a social environment, that such thing as my tone of skin of the color of my hair doesn't hinder me. I can easily know how people feel, and playing with that seems easy to me. That's one reason why I've start working in a newspaper, even if it is a small one. It is easy to me to get some information from someone else. No, I'm not able to play with someone mind, but you don't need to have some kind of power to read someone. You are trying to do it with me presently, and I know you have some difficulty... yes, I am hiding my emotion. It is one thing to tell you what I have done; it is another to let you know how I feel about all that.
To be back on how people are treating me. As I told you, I worked in a snack. The owner was employing some mutant. He didn't fear mutant, like many other. We were working in the kitchen, never to be seen to the client. It was good for him, as he was paying us less. It is harder for a mutant to find a job and he knew it. But not only he was paying us less, he was always shouting at us... well, at them. Except my salary, I was treated like the other worker, I mean, the other who wasn’t mutants. But at the same time, I had to work on my relation with the other mutants not to have them on my back. Having special treatment is not always a good thing. But after a while, I just gave a damn about all that, tired to try to have everyone friendly to me. So the non-mutant, used to ill treat mutants, preferred not to become friend with one, so they were ignoring me. The mutants start to see my "good" treatment, at least compare to them, and so start to don’t like me, as mutant should be more ill treated. I become isolated during that time. Anyway, my mother was ill, so I had less time to put in my social life. Between taking care of my mother, and gaining some money at the snack, I hadn't much left time.
My relation at the newspaper is better than at the snack. I have no one on my back. Even some appreciate me, as I am writing some good articles. But I don't have much friends, well, I have none I could call friend, but I don't really care. I am use to my loneliness. I come back home, and I put my nose in my books. I read a lot and it is fine with me. I watch the news at TV too. What else do I need? Have I tried to know my neighbour? Nope, and I don't really care. I am not even sure who lives in my block. The only ones I've cross in the stairs are a women and his boy. They live in the other apartment on my floor, as my block as two apartment per floor. I don't know who lives above or under, they are quiet enough for me to not bothering about it. The apartment has 3 floors, so that make 6 apartments.
I have a meeting in 30 minutes, so we will have to stop here, even if I have 10 minutes left. I do not know if I can be back next week, I’ve an interview schedule at that time, so I'll call your secretary for our next meeting.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #4
Hi Doc, yeah, it's been a month now that I haven’t come. Well, busy at the job. What? I told that? When? First time we met. I see you take notes. Yes, I've come because I have many questions. What are they? Hmmm... Ok, maybe it's time to start a bit.
Do you dream? No, no... sorry. I was a bit unclear here. What I mean, did you have a dream, once, that was so real to you that when you wake up, you doubt what you've seen was really a dream? Those dreams! They feel so real that sometimes I think this world is a dream, and the true world is the one in my dreams. When I wake up, I can remember all. It is so clear, so true, so pure. Generally, when I dream, I mean normal dreams, like everyone, I just remember what I've seen and heard, and most of it barely, like some picture, or part of a movie. Now the dream I have, those dreams so real, that I can remember the touch, the smells, the taste. All is so true. I dreams of thing I've never seen, never heard about, things that I could have barely phantom if I hadn't seen it in my dreams. And they all have that coherence. But what trouble me most, it is some time, small details of those dreams can be tied to the reality. Like what? Let me tell you one of those dreams.
When I dream, I am someone else, always the same man. I don\'t know his name, as no one use his name in his presence. But he seems to be of good family, as they call him Lord. So I am that Lord and I walk in a big room. It looks like a ballroom, the ones of the great king of the end of the Middle Age or later. Think of Versailles. Richly decorated, colorful, but all those decoration seems to have a theme of nature. Many plants are decorating the place. Birds are flying freely, filling the air of a pretty melody. And the roof is there, I know it, but when I look at it, it looks like the sky. Pretty convincing. And there is a small fresh breeze, even if we are inside. This breeze carries the smells of the flowers that are part of the decoration. And something supernatural fills the room, but nothing aggressive. I would say it is even harming. Maybe it is the guest, as there are many people. They looks like human, and not. I could tell they look like me, with colorful skin and hairs, some fairy or animalistic traits, but all beautiful.
The dream start there and I am walking among the guest, talking about how the reception is a success. The guests are asking for the health of my companion. I answer them she is going well and she will be there soon. It is strange, but I look at there faces, and I know them, even if it is the first time I dream of them. I know them. All conversations are a bit meaningless, but I know in me that it is the way of a reception, and the serious matters are talk at the end. Courtesy say it is like this.
After having taken care of the guest, I enter a door. I walk in it and I hear my footstep. There is no light, but I know my way, I just seem to be able to see in the dark. Some vines, carrying flowers, are growing on the walls. I can even see there beautiful Pink and white petals. There smells is so nice to my nose. I stop and smell one. I pick up the flower and continue my way. A silvery light can be seen at the end of the corridor. As I enter, I see her, sitting on a chair, finish to brush her hair. I walk next to her and I put the flower in her hairs. Her hairs are blue, and soft to the touch, but the smell of her hair is even sweeter to my nose than the one of the flower. I gently pass my hand in her hair and then I look in the mirror in front of her. I see her visage, beautiful with her green skin. I see myself too. It is the only dream where I see the one I am living in. He is noble; his traits are taken from the most beautiful traits of the animal kingdom. He has grace and beauty, his hair are silver and his skin blue, just like me.
He looks like me, but at the same time, he doesn't. It isn't me. Some time, I look myself in a glass and I think that man, he is the one I am becoming. I even start to have some traits he has. Like my eyes have the same feline looks. They are not the same, I still have my blue eyes, while he has yellow, and the form is not quite the same, but we both have feline looks. And with those eyes, I have an easier time to see in the dark, just as him in this corridor. But still, I could tell all that was build by me. I was a kid when I first made that dream. But the one thing that disturb me the most, it is the lady that brush her hair. Even with her green skin and blue hairs, she looks like that girl that lives next door. Yes, the one living with her boy in the apartment next to me. I met her only when I've moved in that apartment, which is when I
start working for the newspaper. But I had that dream as far as I can remember. How could I dream of someone I've never met? Is it a coincidence? I can hardly believe it.
Well, I think I have talk more than an hour now. Your next client is waiting. I'll go and see you next week... maybe.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #5
Hi, Doc.
I've think about it all. Those dreams I had. I am pretty sure of one thing now. That man, the Lord I've talked about, I have some bound to him. I know it sound crazy, thinking that someone in my dreams can be linked to me, or simply to think that this man is really existing, maybe not in this world, or in this time, as nothing on earth today looks like the world he lives in, but I am convinced that he is or was or maybe even will be alive.
Each time a new dream appears in my nights, something new and strange happen in my live. I told you I had a dog. Well, it was a normal dog, and I had a relation with him just like any kid who has a dog. One night, I had that dream. The Lord was in his garden. The moon was full, lighting the place with silver and glimmering light. He was standing under a tree. The tree was all white wearing a dress made of flowers. There perfume was floating in the air, calming the heart of this Lord, as he was waiting something important to him, and the seconds were passing like hours for him. It is then that a bird land on the shoulder of the Lord. His arrival just raise the rhythm of my heart, I mean the Lord's pulse. It was that bird he was waiting. The bird start to sing, but strange to my ear, his song was more than the music we are used to hear; the melody was carrying a message that the lords could understand. Hidden in the notes were words, and they were telling that his Lady was now saved. Her father has been able to cure the illness. She would have to take rest for a month, maybe more, but all danger was gone and it was only a question of time before she would be able to show again in public. He was relieved by the news. All his anxiety disappears in an instant, and his thought starts to travel to her. He stared at the moon, and he was happy, for the first time since some times.
The day I had this dream, I had to spend my day with my mother. She was very sick, more than usual, but she refused to go to the hospital. So I work at home, cleaning the apartment. Ami, my dog, was staying next to me all the day, following me. At one time, my sadness was too heavy and I started to cry. I just sit down in the middle of the kitchen and I cried. My dog put his paw on my knee and bark. But strangely, his bark wasn't as usual. Like the bird in my dream, his bark was carrying a meaning that I could understand. He had said to me: "Be strong for her". At the moment, I was confused, not because he talks to me, but for what he had said to me. I didn't understand why he had said that to me. He lick my face, as he usually do when he want to give me some attention. I stop crying, and I never cried again until she died. It happens again many times, that he talks to me like that. After my mother's death, he help me much to pass through that, but when I got my job, I hadn’t much time to take care of him. He told me he was bored, but I tried to tell him it was the only way for us to live. But he starts to be sick. And I was unable to see a vetenary. I didn't have the money. I still had some of the hospital bill to pay. He finally died of sickness. I cried his lose like I cried the death of my mother. He had been the only friend I had, but that time, I had no one to help me to pass through. It is why I left my job, the job that killed my only friend.
Yeah... Ami was a good friend. I found that he wasn't the only animal that could talk to me. I can understand most animals, I just need to concentrate on what they are telling and I will understand the language behind the sound they do, just as the Lord of my dream.
No, it isn't the only example, but the hour is almost finished. Next time, I could tell you about another dream.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #6
Hi Doc. You know, I start to sort all those things since I've started to tell it to someone. It kind of a weird thing that is happening to me... maybe all those heroes with fantastic power have things like mine but doesn't talk about it... but I doubt. It's just too much surreal to see someone else to have them.
You want to hear about another dream. I've made that one during my first year at the journal. It is happening some time after the last. I mean, in the history of that Lord. He was waiting under the same tree, in the garden. He was looking at the sky. The sun was going down, painting stripes of colors in the sky. The clouds were pink, like you can see... in Vanilla Sky, even more beautiful than that. He is staring at it for almost half an hour. It is just beautiful. And when only a faint dark blue could be seen at the horizon, the bird came and land on the shoulder of the Lord. He said to him that the Lady was waiting for him. The bird starts to fly in a circle, waiting for something. It is at that moment I felt that my body... well, the Lord's body, was starting to feel lighter. It became lighter than hair, and he starts to move his arms. His arms were no more arms, but wings. He had transformed into an owl, and was flying in the sky, following the bird. It was a strange feeling, being able to fly. I’ve never enter an helicopter or a plane, but I am sure it isn't like that. It is a feeling of freedom like you can't imagine. All his under you, smaller and out of reach, or should I say, you fell like out of reach of all that. Maybe the experience was biased by the love of the Lord for the Lady he was about to meet, but it is something I like to revive when I see that dream again. Yes, the dreams about that Lord, I see them frequently and many times. He landed on the edge of the window of the Lady, the same that he had put a flower in his hair. Yes, the one who look like the girl next door.
Well, the day after the first time I saw that dream, I was doing an article on the homeless. I've interviewed many of them, but I was curious to see them, so I decide to spy one. I had lived in the street, but it is not always the same thing for everyone. So I follow one, but I didn’t want to be seen. It is at that moment I think about that dream, so I said, if I can, like the Lord, talk to animals, why couldn't I transform like him. I try to think to a pigeons, but nothing happen. So I followed him normally. When he started to feel he was followed, he stared behind him. I just had time to hide. He starts to walk back. I had to be discovered, and I knew I would not get some good information if I was discovered. I tell myself if I needed to think something fast, and I thought to a dog. It is at that moment that I feel some change. When the homeless spot me, he start to talk to me like I was a dog... well, it is then I saw I was one. I could transform into some animals. My ability wasn’t as great as the Lord, but I could transform. So I follow him as a dog, and the homeless liked my company. Well... the one of the dog. Later, he was half sleeping when a street gang appeared. They start to harass the homeless. They even beat him. I stay there, seeing what would happen. I didn't want to do anything, to see how he would defend himself. They finally killed him. Not like I would I have been able to do anything, they were six, and I was alone. I finally wrote a good article.
What? What I think of my act that day? Bah, nothing. It happens, and it would have happen even if I weren't there. No, I have no remorse... please, stop that. Anyway, I have to go. I have an interview planned in an hour; I need to prepare a thing or two.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #7
Hi Doc.
It start to be an habit to come here... what, fifth or sixth time now. Seventh? Wow. Never thought I would ever see a psychologist, even less for that long, but I dunno. Talking about all that to someone seems to help me somehow. Hard to tell how. Why not telling it to a friend? Maybe because I have no one I can call friend. And the only family alive I know about is my lost father, and I prefer to know that he will never come back to me.
Tonight I've made a dream. It is the second time only I've seen that dream. And as usual, the first time I see a dream, something happen during the day, related to that dream. Kind of weird. Oh! Both. The dream and the fact that it is always related to my life. The Lord, in form of a bird, was watching two men. They both were wearing some metal armour. Not the kind you think when you think of knight looks like more primitive. They had some crude sword and bows. They were stinking. They were standing at twenty feet of me, and I could smell them. They were tracking something. They were talking English, but they were very hard to understand. I only heard a few words, talking of creature, beast and demon. The Lord was following them and at a moment, they stop near a pit. In the pit was an unconscious man. The one in the trap was the same kind of people than the Lady and the Lord. His hairs were green and his skin brown. He could have been pretty good at hiding in the forest, but he seems to have fallen in that trap. The reason was unknown, but I knew it shouldn't have happen. The Lord transform back into his man form, hiding in a tree. He starts to say some words in a strange language. It is at that moment that two stag appear out of nowhere and rush the two guards. They both fall on the ground, severely wounded. One stay there, but the other try to go back on his feet. A viper came out of a bush next to him and bites him on the next, where the armor didn't protect. The man started to choke and finally fall unconscious. The Lord, in a squirrel form, climbs down from his tree into the pit and stared at the other man. He was dead, and sadness starts to fill his heart.
The day it follows, I was coming out of job pretty late. I had to give an article before the deadline, and after, I had to fill some formalities. While I was walking back home, a group of kids started to follow me. When I cross the park near my home, they attack me. They were five I think. They surround me. They ask me for my money. I had none. Obviously, they didn't want to believe me. One strikes me and asks it again. I told them I didn't have anything. They hit me, and twice that time. I was crawling on the ground, badly hurt on the torso. They were laughing and told me that if I didn't give them some good money, they would pay themselves by making some fun on me. At that time, I went crazy, I didn't know what to do, but I knew I was in deep trouble. So I start to tell them they were f*****g a*****e and things like that, but something get out of my mouth, words I knew but that wasn't mine. It was the Lord's word. They just start to laugh when I started to say them... it cost them much. All the pigeon in the park start to attack them in the eyes. I continue to talk like that, and when the pigeon left, it was flies. Flies all over the park. I could barely see in front of me. I think I heard them shouting. Personally, I just crawled out the park. The flies disappeared and I finish lying in my bed for two days. I've seen that gang one month after. Well, only one of them. He was blind. Good for him...
What do you think about all that, Doc? Everything that Lord can do, I've been able to do it myself too. Why do I have those dreams? Why I have those powers? And where are they coming from? Not that I complain, some day, I find it very interesting, but some day, I am just thinking of how my live look like if I was normal. Couldn't that Lord choose someone else? And the girl next door, why she inhabits my dreams?
...
...
I know, you can't answer that. Nobody can. I told you so; the first time I met you. Well, I won't make me any idea. I won\'t find the answer here, but still, it help me just to tell them aloud. If I wasn't paying you, I would thank you. Cya another week.
Record, Psychologist Office, Session #8
Hi...
...
Yes, I had other dreams too, but it is not about that I want to talk today... I don't understand... why the life is so full of bulls***. What the hell is happening? What am I talking about? Let me start from the beginning. I've told you what happen to that gang who attack me some time ago. I saw them last month. They were all there, except the blind one. But there was a new member to their gang. At first, I didn't recognize him, but last week, I met the girl who lives next door. She was carrying some package, and she was helped by his boy. It is at that moment that I recognize him. The boy living next door was the new member of the gang. When I made the link between these two facts, I just said to myself... well, I said nothing to myself, I just didn't cared.
But yesterday, it was about one in the morning, and I awoke. The police was in the building. I open my door to take a look at what was happening. The girl was crying. The policeman was taking her only son. What I heard was that he was arrested for murder. A gang fight had happen earlier in the night and someone died. Some witness told it was him who had killed the other guy. The police left, without telling anything to the girl. I walk out of my apartment and lift her from the ground. I carried her to her kitchen and help her sit on a chair. She was crying. I made some coffee and offer a cup, and took one myself. I just stay there, sitting in front of her. I said nothing, not knowing what to tell her. I just stayed there. And she cried, for about half an hour. When I saw she was feeling a bit better, I just told her... "You need some sleep."... just that, word for word. I stood up and walk out of the kitchen, but before I could do that, she just say one word. "Thanks". I look back, and tried to smile to her, but I couldn't, so I left.
Why those kind of thing is happening to her. She just works as hard as she can to give something to her son, and the day after, the police take her son away. I dunno what happen during that fight, and I don't care if he did it or not. All I see, it is her that have just lost her reason for life, because his son just didn't thanks her, or because the police is too dumb. I don't know. But what I am sure, this world is just full of bulls***, just like the articles I write, it is just full of bulls*** to raise the sales of my newspapers. Just full of f***ing bulls***...
...
Well... now I am thinking... well... maybe not. I had written once that the world is what we make of it... I just pick it up somewhere, felt that is was appropriate for my article... maybe it was not as much bulls*** than I thought. I have those powers. I dunno why I had those. I dunno why I have that link with the man named Lord. I dunno if it is just a product of my imagination or not. I dunno how I had all that. I dunno why the girl next door looks like that Lady. But now that I take some time to think about it, I think all that time I just forgot the only question I should have ask myself. What will I do with those powers? Captain Thunder saves the world time and time again with all the other of the League. Many others are doing great good; some are just doing things for them... I am not Captain Thunder, but the world is what we make of it... if that is true, let start to make something else than some bulls***. Let's start to change the world around me... let's start by changing the world of the girl next door.
