Will 4
WILL
Mayowa Ojo
6/10/20266 min read
First off I’d never told anyone about my mom but I was past trying to find out how he knew that much too. I wanted to end him. I could not take it anymore and so I went deeper into the recesses of my mind. Abusing me was one thing but talking about my mother was another. I gained consciousness and started to cut off his power over me. It started in short bursts of no more than three seconds; long enough for me to drag some air into my lungs until I regained my strength.
After a while, I started to use the seconds in between to seize his breath as well. This intermittent battle went on for quite a while until he succumbed. I also stopped… long enough to concentrate my thoughts on something more while my eyes were fixed on him.
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My mother was the first and only person I ever knew who could control things with her mind… until Jude from a couple hours ago. She had a temper and unfortunately had the power to match it. Sadly, she was married to a drunk who had no respect for her and the day she finally took his life was the first time he realized who his wife really was the entire time.
She really did love my father. The guilt of what she did haunted her till she committed suicide. Not only had she killed the man she loved the most but she’d also given in to her ability to hurt him. Several times she cried and cursed the day she found out she could “do things”.
I was only eight when this happened but I did not understand. My inability to dream up things apart from that which really did happen ensured that I understood with time. Power, like sin, can be very intoxicating. More often than not, it starts small. Very small. And then it grows in some twisted symbiotic way with the desire for it.
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In a fraction of a second, the rope around my hands began to untie itself. Once undone, I loosened and removed the noose from my neck. I stepped comfortably on the chair with the shards of glass but felt no pain. I got off the chair and it felt good to feel the ground beneath my feet.
Jude was in shock. His eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets. I don’t blame him, now that I think about it. It’s like we both knew all of that was possible but seeing it was incomparably different. He stopped laughing. I was emboldened.
“Look who’s not laughing anymore.”
And then he started laughing.
“You think you’re more powerful now? You’re NOT.”
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The more powerful a man is, the more power he craves. The sweeter the high off of a sinful act, the greater the thirst for more of the act.
But can anyone blame the kid who was born to a crackhead and got hooked on crack as a child rather than proper food? Or can a person blame a child who has powers yet has no one to teach them that it should be controlled or contained and not the other way around?
It’s been my one fascination with religion – Christianity to be precise. That man, Paul, talked about how sometimes he would want to do one thing but find himself doing another thing. He called it the sinful nature but I can draw parallels with power from that analogy. It’s part of why I’ve stayed friends with Toby who claims that a Christian empowered with the Holy Spirit is the most powerful being on the face of the earth.
Of course I think he is bluffing and, though I think power is relative, he has proven himself a number of times when all he’s done is say something that isn’t and it happens. He has claims of speaking in unknown tongues that sound like absolute gibberish to me but clearly make sense at whatever level of authority he operates on. I will say it’s fascinating even though he’s warned that I should be sure of my motives first.
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I was livid. The lizard of him still had a lot of nerve for someone who was on the ground. I picked him up and was ready to end him. He knew what was coming but he did not stop laughing. That was when it clicked.
This what where he wanted me to get to the entire time. He was on a suicide mission but just did not want to be the one to put out the light. Surely he had death on his mind but not mine. His. Mine would have been a casualty had things taken a slightly different turn.
As he laughed I stood transfixed wondering how I’d walked into this trap with my eyes wide open. The night my mother destroyed my father played back in my head in an annoying endless loop. The more it did, the more it fuelled my anger and Jude’s laughter in the background was not helping him at all.
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I never asked for this sort of power. I was made to understand that it’s usually triggered by pain – a process I like to call cracking. It’s the breaking point of any human being and it’s no small feat to ‘attain’. The story of how I cracked is one that nightmares are made of so I won’t bother telling.
The secret to wielding power at any level is no different from the secret to controlling sin – Will. It’s this will that influences the decision to kill or let live; the decision to eat junk or eat healthy; the decision to keep good company or not to; the decision to truly live or merely exist. Will, I dare say, is stronger than sin and power but is almost useless without either. Take the desire to hate someone for example. It's so easy to hate someone and hurt them especially when you have the power to. But it's harder to love that person especially when they've hurt you. Will looks frail beside desire. It often appears like its weaker in comparison but the truth is desire is just a feeling albeit strong. Will is a resolution. Desire is fickle. Will is tranquil.
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Much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I was crazier than my mother. My anger had unlocked another neuropath in my brain that I was certain not many had ever accessed. I shut my eyes and drowned out the noise around me. I could feel Jude trying to hurt me from where he lay on the floor but I had somehow found a way to also block out his powers. I inhaled and exhaled freely, suddenly more aware of my immediate surrounding.
And then I silenced Jude with my mind.
He was laughing but there was no sound. This time the look on his face registered concern not shock.
I smiled.
He reached for the wall as support, trying to get on his feet but I numbed his limbs – all four. Then I spoke to his mind without orally saying anything. I told him about how much I really did love him from the day he approached me and said "Hi." I told him about how I had huge plans for us and that although he hurt me several times in our relationship, each time made me stronger. He was the reason I was getting better at controlling my anger.
I told him he should not have pushed me to this point because now I really would go back and date Toby who would be more than happy to have me back. He interrupted my thoughts by asking why I left Toby in the first place.
I told him it was because I did not know how to receive love without tarnishing it; that I had a knack for destroying the very things I was supposed to cherish. But never again. I finally figured that my will for MY life was stronger than anyone else’s… his inclusive.
I know he wanted me to kill him and I could have. All I had to do was think it which was much easier than desiring it (a strong emotion that often takes time to build and one I’ve used in killing someone before). Instead I empowered Jude to desire his own death and also empowered his limbs to move.
I left the room knowing what would most likely happen but could not be too certain. Will, I'd learned, can be more powerful than desire especially in the face of death. I hoped his will to live would be stronger than his desire to die but I did not wait to find out.
I walked into his room, changed into some of his clothes and sneakers, went to the parking lot, took a car of my choice and left the estate. I never looked back.