“I think it might be messing with more than just my memory,” he said. “But today, I woke up feeling okay. So I thought I’d take things out for a spin.” He gave me a real smile then, looking out at the kitchen, which was now dutifully cleaning itself. I never understood how he was able to do that—to keep his focus so perfect that he could be controlling so many objects at once, making them move just so, all in different ways, all at the same time. What has that kind of effort done to him over the years?

“Would you give it up?” I asked. “The telekinesis, I mean. If it helped you?”

“What?” He looked at me with confused surprise.

“It’s just … I’ve heard some stuff,” I explained. “About how abilities can … well, they can hurt us sometimes. Atypicals, I mean.”

“Our abilities are a fundamental part of our biology, Rose,” he said calmly.

“I know that,” I said. “But a lot of people—normal humans—have fundamental parts of their biology that hurt them, or make it hard to live—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Has the AM thought about how your power interacts with this disease?” I asked. “I mean, really thought about it, examined every single possibility?”

“Of course,” he said. “Rose, they’re doing everything they—”

And that was when he collapsed.

Without warning, my dad slid out of his chair and onto the floor, where he started to seize. I jumped up immediately, kneeling down next to him, yelling out for my mom, for Aaron, in a complete panic. What happened from there is a complete blur—they both came rushing down the stairs (thank GOD they were home), my mom calling the emergency number, Aaron moving our dad’s body away from any furniture that could hurt him, while my shaking hands hovered above him, wondering how and if I could possibly help.

We’re sitting in the AM now, waiting for them to finish running tests. I don’t know how long we’ll be here—how long he’ll be here—or what any of this means. But whatever hope Mark might have given me the other day has been effectively soured by watching half a dozen doctors gather around my dad’s pale form as he lay unconscious, unreachable, even to me.

IV

CANYON

05-10-2017, morningwaffles, text post

Hi, everyone. I’m sorry for being so absentee the past few weeks. Things have been … intense. But I’m done with my finals for the semester, I don’t start my summer internship for another two weeks, so I thought I’d catch up on things here. And catch you up on what’s been going on.