I was laying down, belly up, on top of my thin rubbery mat resting after eight roll ups. The roof was partially in glass, I noticed how they had never gone up and cleaned, dead leaves, tiny branches and a dead bird, the milky glass prevented me from seeing distinctly the decomposing animal. It was clear the head was rotated, and the wings were relaxed, once closed the tiny thing’s legs spread apart. I felt dreadful, but somehow, I could not stop looking at the poor thing on the ceiling glass.
The Pilates lesson finished and I rolled my mat, smiled and ran back to my car, I closed myself inside and despite not being my freshest, I decided not to open the windows, I held my gut as the nausea grew inside me and then nothing. I woke up with my head on the wheel, looked around and luckily the parking lot was empty.
At home, the sound of the shower soothed me, I removed the stupid activewear, I really have no idea how all these people find plastic clothes that attach to your body comfortable, but that is my only allowed rant of the day, I am trying to stay positive after experiencing the death of a bird. I really try to be calm and collected, suppressing the emotions, avoiding feeling and living experiences that were not mine, but oh my, I am just the kind of bitch that messes up. I knew I would die the death of the bird, why didn’t I look the other way?
See, I have a problem, I have magic, not the kind of book magic where people do big stuff and fight, I have the dumbest of the dumbest magic someone can ever have. I discovered it as a kid, my sister killed a moth, smashed it on the floor, I watched it agonize for a split of a second and then I had a seizure. Then our old dog died, guess who died too? Me, of course it’s me, I died for an entire day.
I never attend funerals, I do not have pets and God bless people that spoil movies, I hate finding out someone died just for my brain to overreact. There are good sides to my special abilities, I am very good at reading the room, and while I can’t tell people what to do, I am really good at suggesting.
Food also speaks to me, I can hear its suffering, fruit and veggies crying, agonizing as I peel, chop and cook it, I stopped eating fresh food when I was a kid, my parents even thought I had anorexia, but can you imagine hearing an apple scream to please stop when you give it a crunchy and juicy bite? I remember the first time I stir-fried broccoli, the trees screamed as their moisture fizzled out in the hot pan. I only eat ultra processed food, I guess it stops being food if it’s constrained in a can.
For the curious people out there, peaches are the most violent of the fruits, aggressive and nasty, those fuckers can literally ruin your day by expelling their fur and irritating your skin and nose. I do not mess with peaches. Sometimes I actually do, you know, some payback, I buy ripe ones and I chop them really small, like dicing, just to hear their screams, what can they do to me?
However, the worst thing about having magic is hearing other people’s bodies. You would think the nasty things first, but mostly I hear the joints and spine complaining. I considered being a doctor, I would have been a great one, listening to the upset stomachs and hernias, you’d be surprised with how many people have hernias in their lower back. But alas, I would have to put some effort and study. Why would I do that if I could just earn a living in the easiest way?
Today, the room was festive, I hate how they place the chairs in a circle, as if we were all struggling in the same boat, it is Friday and we have group therapy. If you think my abilities are shit, you haven’t heard about Joelle, she can only hear the thoughts of dogs, or Richard, he can transform anything he touches into grapes, and not the good ones, only sour. It is too funny, but my favorite is Gerard, he isn’t blind, he just sees everything in shades of black.
4 o’clock is the best place to sit, at 6 o’clock we watch the eyes of the therapist, and we are too close and in her reach, making 4 or 8 o’clock are the best positions, often forgotten, but of course the therapist had to call my name “Catherina, would you like to share something with the group?”. Share what? I ask myself.
“Hello everyone. Yesterday I craved a banana, and I bought one, I could hear it begging for its life, I just blasted a song on my headphones and ate it anyways”.
“And how does it make you feel?”
“Uh… I guess my skin is less dull and my poop smoother.” I saw everyone laughing and I tried not to ruin it. “I mean, really, the banana was barely alive, out of the banana tree how long could it survive, I did the banana a favor!”
“I believe this approach can be a path for a more diversified diet. We could work on that, very good! Catherina is making progress. Tell me about more about your diet.”
“I eat lots of eggs, you know, eggs are not alive. I have been trying frozen food, if I buy it frozen, it’s already silent. I am done sharing for today.” I could see them looking at me, people not much better than me, measuring my body, trying to decipher my eyes, trying to find pain and empathizing with me, but there is nothing wrong, I don’t even care about food, and committing fruit murder here and there isn’t the end of the world.
Sitting at 6 o’clock position in the clock, there was a new girl, she smiled at me, I stopped hearing the nonsense other people spat and concentrated on her eyes, she was cute with amber eyes and thick curly hair, and different from me, she had some cushion on her body. Sadly, Richard was in between us, sobbing about his sour grapes, I held my mouth, he was rich and his parents were famous wizards, even if he was born without talent, he would still be set for life, not like the regular rest of us, trying to fight for coins.
The therapist finally paid attention to her and asked her to present herself to the group, I was anxious waiting to hear her name. She looked at me, then at the group and started speaking looking at her feet. “I am Jennifer”, and the cliché where everyone says hi Jennifer. “And I am here because I can heal crickets. I have tried other insects, but I seem to be stuck with crickets. There are so many insects, I am still trying…”
“Thank you for sharing your story, Jennifer, would you like to tell how you feel?”
“Me? Nothing. The crickets are happy, I have many of them, the healthiest crickets in this world.” I was in love with the cricket girl, at least she didn’t have a depressing talent like mine or Richard’s. “I am here because sometimes I feel I should be doing more.”
“Sometimes we do all we can, and all we can is just irrelevant. However, we are here to learn that irrelevant is not bad.” I had to conceal my feelings again, miss therapist rejoiced to the fact we were the losers of society, living like regular humans. I personally don’t hate my life, I get to read tarot cards for a living, and I probably make more money than I would working as a full-time talented wizard. My parents of course were upset when I could relive death and hear food screaming, so what, at least they have two other real talented ones.
“Hello, it’s nice you joined our group.” I said a little embarrassed, Jennifer smiled at me and touched my hand and kissed my cheeks twice, was this an Italian thing? “I am grabbing coffee, would you like to come?”, she said why not, and somehow, I felt a sting, I fall in love too quick. We sat together and she ordered a double espresso, very lesbian of her, and I ordered a latte macchiato. We remained making small talk, watching people passing on the wet street with snow accumulating on the curb stained with rat piss and smoke.
“You know, if you miss eating fresh, why don’t you go to restaurants, the food would be already cooked and dead.” She spoke naturally as if I could always afford restaurant meals. “I mean, yes, but I can hear the scream in the kitchen, I can hear it even if I am not cooking it.”
“Ah… Do you even have food in your house?”
“I have things that come in a pack, they’ve been dead for long, and eggs, trying also frozen meals, have you tried to speak frozen? My walls are thin, I can hear the food at my neighbors too, I can hear in this coffee shop, there’s always screaming, you just get used to it.” I try not to let it get to me, but it is crazy to think nobody hears screaming constantly on their heads.
“You can come to my house, I have a spare noise-cancelling headphones, you know, crickets are a handful.”
“And then?”
“You put the noise-cancelling headphones, I cook and then we can play with crickets?”
I can’t say no to playing with crickets.
