GC: Correspondence From the Goddess #13: Hour Late and a Dollar Short

[mrnelson007 at gmail.com]

Welcome back to another fine edition of Correspondence From the Goddess, brought to you by the fine folks at Uncle Powernaut's Chocolate-Glazed Hams and Miss Elana's Old-Fashioned Honey Syrup.  Also by Literary Impossible, over at the currently-tragically-empty http://literaryimpossible.tumblr.com.  As always, come view everything (including new pictures!) at http://goddesscorrespondence.tumblr.com.




Hm. Unlucky number thirteen. Are you superstitious? I guess that’s a silly question to ask. Superstitious people don’t usually call it that, do they? I imagine they call themselves “cautious” and the like. Either way, I think everyone has some irrational beliefs, don’t you? Sometimes those can be sillier or more dangerous than others, but in general no one manages to be perfectly rational. As for me, I think my biggest one lately is trying to believe that this was ever a good idea…

- Elana

You know, I just realized it’s been 3 months since I started doing this. Is that as overwhelming to you as it is to me? I mean, on some level I knew it would take a while. It’s not like this is the most important story ever told in the history of existence or anything. And it’s not an easy story to tell. I get pretty emotional when I think about these things. I think this has helped me a little, but not as much as I had hoped. I’m learning to accept myself a little more, but I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I’m stuck with this, with myself. Some days I just get to thinking and I wonder what it would be like if I had never existed. Would the world be a better place? I know a lot of people wonder if anyone would even miss them, but I think with me, I know the answer is already no. Well, except for Elana. She’s the only one who would give a shit.
Ugh, here I go being all fatalistic again. I suppose it’s ironic that I created - well, re-created, anyway - reality, but here I am being all mopey and acting like everything sucks. Not like I couldn’t change reality to be more awesome.

Maybe I should apologize for bringing you all back. You might have been happier where you were. Was that selfish of me? Hmm. No, I don’t think it was. I wasn’t the one who wanted it, Elana was. The thought of Elana being selfish at all is so mind-blowing that I think we can all collectively rule that one out. So that helps at least. Still, I suppose being conscious of it at all is a good sign, right? That’s what they usually say. Here’s hoping.

Now then, I’ll shut up around my stupid thoughts now, huh? Back to the important stuff.

The mall was fairly empty. Not a surprise, considering it was ten in the morning on a weekday. Most people were out at school or work, or they just didn’t have enough money to go shopping. Still, there were a few people around, including staff. That was really the important bit, the staff. I wasn’t about to trust some random bystander with my life if these assholes decided they wanted to kidnap me. Then again, staff at a fucking mall probably would give even less of a shit about something going on. Dammit. Well, whatever. I’ll be fine. I need to stop talking myself out of these things…

It didn’t take very long to get to the gym. I’d never been inside, but I’d passed it several times on my way to somewhere actually worth visiting. It seemed nice enough, if you were actually into that sort of thing for some reason. It occurred to me that it might have been useful to go to one now, just to give myself a place to blow off steam that didn’t force me to go outside into the rain and run in circles. Of course, that was a little late now, since the solution to my problem had reached out and contacted me.

I did have some curiosity in my abilities, I have to admit. While I definitely wasn’t about to go into the whole “hero” line of work, I did want to know what I could do if I had. It felt kind of badass to be better different than everyone else. Hm. I wonder if there’s anyone else out there like me? I’m sure it can’t be that common or we’d have dumbasses in tights flying around shooting people with laser eyes or whatever the fuck. Seems weird that I’d be the only one, though. I know dad had a bunch of random shit all over the house, but I really don’t think he just had a pool of toxic waste lying around for me to swim in or something. I don’t get it.

I was lost in thought while I walked, trying to think back on anything that might have made sense. Which was a stupid idea, since nothing could possibly make that make sense. They’re superpowers for fuck’s sake. They aren’t just some thing that people get. Ugh.

I walked up to the gym, looking through the glass walls to peek inside. The only people inside were Rachel and Al, standing there talking while they waited for me to show up. No sense in keeping them waiting any longer.

“Hey, here I am. You can start the party now.” I was back to my show of confidence, still somehow convinced that a pharmaceutical executive would be impressed by me acting cocky. Although, maybe it would be. Executives are into that stuff usually, right? He just wasn’t for whatever reason, which he illustrated evidently enough by his disinterested reaction.

Rachel was the one who actually talked first. “Oh, there you are, Lydia. Almost an hour late, too.”

“Hey, I like to make an entrance, you know?” I at least had enough sense to avoid mentioning that I had to wait for Elana to leave and sneak out. They didn’t need to see any dissension in the ranks over that. Our little argument earlier was bad enough.

“Yes, well, good for you and your entrances.” Albert sighed, shaking his head. “Meanwhile, some of us have things to do and places to be and don’t have time to stand around all day waiting for you.”

“Oh, relax, would you?” Rachel seemed in a much better mood than him. Actually, she’s probably just realizing that I might get pissed off and leave if everyone acts like a dick. But I guess that makes her smarter than him.

Albert got flustered and sputtered a bit, protesting the way most self-important people do when they feel like someone isn’t giving them the respect they deserve. Ignoring him, I focused on Rachel, who seemed to be as savvy as I had originally thought.

“So what are you wanting me to do?” I asked, looking around the room. There was a single treadmill that hadn’t been moved, sitting in the middle of the room. Next to it were a couple of monitors, for things like heart rate and stuff. Makes sense, they probably want to see how hard I’m working. That’s actually really good to know. I need to check on that myself anyway… two birds with one stone. Awesome.

“Well, first of all, we’re just waiting for the physician to get back. He just stepped away to - ah, there he is now.” Rachel nodded, pointing toward the door.

Turning around, I looked over at where she pointed. “Oh, goddammit…”

“Hello again, Lydia.” Doctor Asshole smiled at me, and I felt myself dying a little on the inside.

- Lydia