[ WP ] You have developed and ability to see how people will die when you look at them . Your entire life you avoided pictures of yourself , but today you forgot , and , brushing your teeth in the morning , looked in the mirror ...

`` How do you feel?'' 
 Great. Here we go again. My therapist is convinced he can fix me by asking me stupid questions like this, without really comprehending how fucked up I really am. How can you fix someone who is feared by everyone they love because they know my disorder? My moms answer to this question was to take me to therapy. She belongs to the category of people in my life who know what I can do but refuse to believe I can not be cured. Not only is she afraid of her own daughter, but she is convinced its some sort of demon inside me, ravishing my soul and disrupting Gods plans. She hovers over me, making sure I dont make any friends, homeschooling me until high school, making me go to church and watching me fearfully, wondering if the next time I step foot inside I will incinerate spontaneously. I cant believe I got stuck with this woman as my mother. 
 Regardless, the question remains unanswered, and I quickly realize the extended silence is a bit disconcerting. 
 
 `` Im good!'' I say, using my best smile and over exaggerating my happiness, attempting to beat this shrink at his own game. I scan his face for some sort of relief, but he looks quizzical still, meaning I will need to up my game. `` I have started my senior year, and I am really fitting in with my classmates.'' Good, good, lie as much as possible. Dont tell him you saw three of your classmates mauled faces, with massive pieces of flesh torn from their cheekbones and dangling from their bones, and skulls broken, with their brains spilling from their near decapitation. At the time I guessed car accident, which was confirmed three months later. 
 
 Its hard to be normal in a world where everyone tries so desperately to enjoy life, yet no one understands how imminent death really is. I see it, on the faces of my classmates, in my mother, even when I look at my shrink. I see what they try to avoid their entire lives. I see what they will become. I try to make friends, but its hard when everyones expiration date is so clearly labeled. The one guy I had a brief crush on would later become addicted to heroine, and die rail thin with a needle stuck in his arm. Gross. 
 
 My shrink dies of an overdose, or at least thats what I suspect. His corpse is pale, with dark circles around his eyes, and his stomach is covered in ulcers. It isnt a pleasant way to go, and sometimes I want to ask him how he is doing for a change. He is so concerned with me, yet he is the one who dies alone surrounded by empty pill bottles. Such a shame, how quickly we dismiss others and forget lives. We see death everyday in the newspapers and simply turn away. Sometimes people ask why I dont try to save people, but I am no worse than the millions of other people turning away. I have been over stimulated with this idea of death, and it no longer frightens me, it just continues along with everything else. 
 
 That is, of course, until I saw my own death. My mom knew my abilities since I was one years old, and both my grandparents came to visit. I climbed atop my grandfather lap and started to touch his chest. `` Boom Boom!'' I kept repeating over and over. Then I looked up at his corpse face and started to cry, with a shattered coronary artery and blood vessels bursting all around me, I ran to my mother. Luckily my mother dies in a much less abrasive fashion, and I could tolerate her old corpse smiling at me in her sleep. Two weeks later, my grandfather died of a heart attack. 
 
 Peoples corpses change all the time. One day my mom will be happy and dead in her sleep, and the next, she is placing a loaded gun in her mouth, praying for forgiveness. I suppose it shows that fates can change, and how stressed out my mom is at the time. My death has never changed, which makes me think I am doing something wrong. 
 
 My lips are a deep blue with tiny white bubbles bursting from in between them. My face and hair is soaking wet, and my skin looks weathered from a extended submersion in seawater. I cant tell, but it looks as though my organs are all filled with water. I suppose I drowned, but I really cant be sure where. Was it off a boat or in a pool? I know how to swim, so it really should n't be too difficult to save myself. I thought if I became a really efficient swimmer my death would change, but so far its remained. 
 
'You seem tired, and a bit nervous today.'' My shrinks accusation snaps me back into reality. 
 
 `` Im just, working on it. One step at a time.'' 
 
 Something tells me its going to be a long meeting. Perhaps this is why he chose to take the pills. Because of people like me.
