You know in these types of stories the characters are fairly predictable, the plot's pretty thin and nothing really surprises you. I know how you feel. I'm like you. Except now I'm not. I'm very, very different. It wasn't always that way though. Before it happened, before my life was changed in ways I couldn't even imagine, I was like most people β a nobody. I was just muddling through life, going nowhere fast, doing very little and generally making no mark whatsoever on society. Actually that's not true. I was going somewhere. I was going to the afterlife.
That's sort of where our story begins. I say sort of because really you should probably know a little more about me. It's all about understanding, right? Well, don't worry, this should be pretty short and sweet because the truth is, before it happened, there isn't much to tell. I was born and brought up in a pretty stable home. No daddy issues, no overbearing mum. I had two siblings, an older brother and younger sister (no, it's not one of those stories either!) and a dog (it's certainly not one of those stories!!). I know now that I should have been happy with this, that kids across the world now grow up in broken homes, or even surrounded by abuse and misery, but I wasn't. I was apparently lucky. But that's not how it felt to me. I was miserable. Not in some kind of bizarre "cry myself to sleep, cut myself to make me feel" way. No, I was nowhere near interesting enough to do those things. But I was still never really happy and I never knew why.
My days as a kid growing up were spent out kicking a ball in the park with some friends, lusting after girls and generally getting nowhere. Then I found porn and I contented myself with that for a while. We all know how it is when we find porn β we overdose on it. I remember my first time. It was on some weird cable channel that showed such exciting programmes as naked darts and a business news show where the presenter stripped to her underwear while explaining the changes on the FTSE and Dow Jones. At around 11pm, they'd show some (normally German) softcore stuff. I'd already heard about masturbation, I knew what it entailed, but had never given it a go. One night, when the house was deserted and everyone fast asleep, I gave it a go. I never looked back, and the men at Kleenex got major bonuses!
So as you can imagine, like most teenage boys I had a massive sex drive. My masturbation took over and I soon realised that maybe my drive was a bit higher than most. The problem was that eventually I wanted to give this sex stuff a try. Ok, maybe that wasn't the problem. The problem in actual fact was the fact that I was entirely average in every single way. I'm not ugly but I wasn't exactly what the girls would call a hottie either. I was a nice enough guy I thought but then the girls that age didn't want nice guys. They wanted bad guys, they wanted the type that would hit people for no reason, drink at the weekends and maybe even take drugs. I didn't like beer when I was a kid and definitely was against drugs. My last fight had been when I was 10 β a fat kid sat on me and I couldn't get up so took a bit of a beating. I decided not to fight again and, happily, never have.
When I was 15 I did have a girlfriend. Her name was Kat. She wasn't very nice. In fact, she was awful. She was cold, bitchy and generally somebody I didn't particularly like as a person. However, most days she'd make out with me and even sometimes she'd let me touch her in places I'd never been allowed to touch before. I'd get to feel her tits at least a few times a week and even now and again I'd get to touch her pussy. Now and again she'd jerk me off, although this would generally be followed by complaining about the mess I made when I came. After about 7 months I broached the subject of sex. Her reply was curt β she was saving it for someone she actually loved. Now you might think that was a killer blow to the relationship. I actually agree with you. As a 16 year old, we stayed together another 6 months until she finally did find that guy she loved. She never looked back apparently and was soon to be found sleeping with most guys in the school. Sadly that didn't include me.
And thus began my relationship with girls. They talked to me, they seemed to like me, but never seemed to want to take things any further than that. Kleenex were delighted. I wasn't cool unfortunately, and without the distractions of girls I was able to do pretty well at school. Ahh, I hear you think, here we go β he's clearly some science nerd who, in a fit of rage against the world, made some device or something to control thoughts. Sadly no. Science, or chemistry as was the class I chose to do for my exams, was the only class I actually failed in. I was more gifted in classes that required good literacy skills rather than analytical skills I'm afraid. It isn't one of those stories either.
So what kind of story is it? How did I manage to transform my life and develop the gifts that have both excited and terrified me and others? To quote my favourite proverb, 'it's always darkest before the dawn', and I first have to take you to the darkest night before we hit the light.
It was May 15th, 2002. I was 21 years old and was drunk. At that age, I was drunk quite a lot. I'd go out with my friends, hit a few bars, most nights a nightclub and try to score. Invariably I'd fail. At this stage I'd had one unfulfilling sexual experience where I'd lost my cherry. Occasionally I'd get a bit of a kiss but that was as far as it would get. I think women have a sense when it comes to desperation and I stank of it. I'm still not sure how I could afford it. I was a student doing a course I hated (those who have ever done a Business course will know what I mean) and, although I worked part-time at my local supermarket, I still had bills to pay.
On that night I had as usual lucked out with the ladies and was in a state of melancholy as I walked slowly home, having failed to flag down a taxi. The street lights guided me along the dual carriageway I had to follow to take me the long walk home. I had been thinking things over and over in my mind, how unhappy I was, how pointless my life had been and was going to continue to be when suddenly I made what turned out to be a pivotal decision. I was going to end it. Traffic still flowed fairly heavily, even at 2am as it was then. I turned, saw a lorry approaching and walked out onto the road....
My life as I knew it had ended.
My new life had begun.
I woke up and was instantly aware of the bright lights. Next I heard bleeping of machines. I could sense I was in a fairly enclosed area, but I just couldn't focus. There was a foggy feeling in my mind and it wasn't going to clear. I drifted back into sleep once more and again repeated this experience, and then again and again. Finally my eyes were able to focus and I could make out the features of the room. The door partially hidden to my left, a unit to my right with a jug of water on top. A chair sat next to it, unoccupied. A television was attached to the room in the bottom corner opposite the door. I didn't know where I was and panicked and tried to move. That's when I felt the pain for the first time and the realisation that I couldn't move at all. When the pain subsided, it dawned on me that I was in hospital. The memories of May 15th flooded back. I had lived.