Ingrained

Flash fiction based on the theme of 'Loneliness'.

Ingrained

Suzy Stewart Dubot
copyright©March 2013 Suzy Stewart Dubot


         There wasn’t a club he could join.
         Oh, sure. Anyone can join a Fan Club or the scouts or a sports club, but what club do you join when you are the only one in the world like you?

         He had sensed the difference very early on in life; maybe at two or three years of age. It had literally involved his senses because, now that he was fully grown, he knew that they were far more developed than those of anyone else he had ever met.
         He could see and hear people coming from a long distance and if he really concentrated, he could hear what they were saying. In fact, everything around him was audibly magnified, so that he usually tuned out what amounted to cacophony. As a result, at school, he had been accused of not listening to the teacher or worse - cheating. He heard things that were not meant for students’ ears.
         Sight, hearing, taste, touch and smell were all extremely sensitive, or was it that they were normal for someone such as he? He had no siblings with whom to compare things, and his parents were certainly unremarkable, if not for the fact that they were old to have had him.
         As an only child, they would so easily have spoiled him, but he had escaped unscathed by their over-indulgences. He had accepted with good grace what they had offered him but had never taken their favours for granted. Their generosity left him feeling that is was compensation for something else he was not getting. As much as he would have liked to belong to that club which is ‘family’, he was aware that he stood apart there too.

         It is a very lonely business when you are unique.
         He had learned his lesson the day he had seen the reaction of a fellow-pupil when he’d mentioned that he could see and hear those in the next room. From then on, the boy had avoided him even though he had not verified the outrageous claim. The boast alone had been enough to alienate the boy and get him the name of ‘weirdo.’
         There was the odd girl who found him attractive and braved the condescending general opinion, but it never lasted due to peer pressure and perhaps the unseen vibrations or pheromones that he emitted. He was able to sense the ionic field that surrounded everyone, so it stood to reason that they would be able to detect, if only subconsciously, those radically different ions delimiting him. The day came when he wanted it all to end.

         The high bridge spanning the county river appeared to suit his plan. He was sure the impact on the water so far below would kill him, but failing that, drowning would finish the job.
         Without hesitation he climbed onto the steel girder and plunged.

         He did not die.
         Loneliness can be an ingrained affliction, and there really is no club you can belong to when you’re Clark Kent…