Jason

                                    

                                          
            
                          
No! No! This is only a nightmare, I think while running out of the house. Down to the street, off into Projensdorfer Park. It's not true, it's only ghastly dreams. But the thoughts keep coming and they flow unstoppably through my head. Monster, they cry. You're a monster! And I know I am one. 
                          
My brain has suppressed it, but now it's clearer than ever. The dead eyes I always see when I'm about to touch someone are so familiar to me because I know them. I remember myself at seven years trying to explain that I am to blame for the deaths of my parents and grandparents. But nobody wanted to hear about it. It was a horrifying virus that took them away, they explain to me when they find me yelling next to my dead family. You were the only one immune, they tell me.
                          
But that's not true. I see myself embracing my mother, and she falls, then I grab my father's hand as he comes running, and he also collapses. The same happens to my grandparents and before I understand that it's my touch that kills them, I scream. When they find me I refuse to touch anyone. I yell and struggle when they come too close to me. A female doctor nevertheless strokes my face, and she too immediately starts vomiting. Just like Tim now. They all think they caught the virus, but I know better. I don't know whether the doctor died, but I do know that she got sick because of me. I yell and yell so that they will never touch me, then my brain blocks and I forget everything, but one thing remains in my memory: never must anybody come too close to you. 
                          
And now it's got Tim. I can't understand it. And I had almost put Nay in danger. I must not think about it. Goose bumps ripple over my back and I start shuddering. I don't understand why Tim is still alive. He should have died already in the cinema, because there he had contact with my skin far longer. Or am I only sometimes deadly? My eyes wander over the park and I espy a cat. I have to know what's going on, so I attract the cat to me. Slowly I take off my gloves, then I breathe deeply in and out. Please don't let it be true, I think, as I stroke the cat with trembling hands while it is rubbing itself against my leg. And then it happens: the cat gives a sad meow and then falls on its side lifeless. "No," I whisper. I nudge the animal, but it doesn't move. I see the caterpillar near the lifeless body and I grab it as fast as lightning. I lift it to eye-level and stare at it. Its body moves back and forth until it collapses and I feel as though I'm holding a slimy thread in my hand. I am deadly, there's no doubt about it. Deeply shocked I stagger to a bench and sit down on it. Then I break down and howl – just as I did then. 
                          
When I calm down again thoughts are whizzing about in my head. What am I to do now? I'm now almost convinced that I deserve death, because I can't keep living like this. I can never be with Nay – inwardly I've always known that. Tim is extremely lucky! My deadly touch seems not always to function. However I wouldn't know how to live normally if I don't even know when I'm deadly and when not. I don't feel differently from yesterday; wouldn't I have to feel different today when I am being deadly? What if I killed myself and my body rotted in the earth? Would I then destroy everything in my surroundings? Nature is after all cyclical. Perhaps I should be burned? But what say that too is of no use? I've seen a horror film that confirms that. The zombies are burned, the ashes rise up, then it rains and the ashes settle on the graves and the horror begins once more. Return of the living dead ... yes, all are condemned ... because of me! It's a frightful vicious circle. 
                          
No, I have to find a way out. Why didn't I kill my parents at my birth, why only at seven? That is senseless unless it was really a virus and I carry the pathogens in me. There are many sicknesses that are contagious through contact. That would make sense, but how do I stop it? And which pathogen has such a short incubation period? I have to do research. I have to know what is happening. It doesn't explain why Tim survived the first time if my skin contact is infectious. 
                          
I run home. There I sit at my laptop and search for a cure. I enter all possible search items and I keep at it for hours. But I find nothing. I'm frustrated. Then I enter "deadly touch". The first pages deal with some Chinese wrestling concept, and there are quite a few on a film with the same title. I scroll further and then find a page. My heart beats faster. There's an entry in a forum on "supernatural events". 
                          
The user calls himself Angel of Death. He has put in his subject matter "deadly touch" this:
                          
Hello, 
                          
I don't know if anybody understands what I'm going through. 
                          
I'm a monster and have no idea what I should do. 
                          
I don't dare go public. Everyone I touch dies! Everyone!
                          
But I keep living with the knowledge that I'm death. I'm guilty!
                          
This is my last hope. There must be somebody who can help me.
                          
Please!
                          
Marcus (the Angel of Death)
                          
My heart is racing. There's somebody else like me! I read the responses. 
                          
Many answers are from unbelieving ratbags. They advise the Angel of Death to find a hobby, and other stupid things. But there is somebody there who shows a serious interest. Dr. Lange is his username, and he writes:
                          
Hello Marcus,
                          
Your despair is totally comprehensible. In fact there is something I could do. You are not alone. But we should speak about it calmly. Send a message to my e-mail address [email protected] 
                          
And we'll talk about it further.
                          
Regards, Dr. Lange
                          
I read other contributions but have to conclude that none of them are about my topic.
                          
Then I go through the usernames and try to find out who is behind them. But apart from the fact that it has been online for eight years I find nothing else. What now? I don't know who Angel of Death is, and I'm not a computer hacker. But I could write to Dr. Lange. I have his e-mail address, if it's still valid. 
                          
My thoughts go to Nay. I want to be able to touch her some day. Yes, I want that! And my decision is firm.
                          
I open my Outlook box and put in the address, then I write the following:
                          
Dear Dr. Lange,
                          
I've read in the forum that you can give help to the user "Angel of Death". I need help too because I have the same problem. It would be nice if you could get back to me. 
                          
Greetings from Jason 
                          
I click on "send" and lean back. If there is a remedy I'll take it. 
                          
Please, please, let there be something!!!! 
                          
Next morning is sheer horror. Tim is seriously ill and Nay is trying to speak to me about yesterday after she has brought me my school bag. But I don't want to put her in danger as long as I don't know anything concrete. Tim's condition makes me very worried. How bad is it? Will he die?
                          
Nay wants to visit him this afternoon; it seems she is not afraid of alleged infection. Nay's mother however said she should keep her distance. At least that is what Nay told me. I can't possibly go to Tim because if he touched me once more then it'd possibly be the end of him. 
                          
Why must Tim be in love with Nay? It would be simplerif he would really just look on her as a neighbour. It'll be hard not to catchhis anger if I keep up being with Nay. He's so jealous that his next attack ispre-programmed. Actually I can be content that for a time he has to drop out.So I can search for help in peace. I hope Dr. Lange will soon reply. Thismorning there was no answering mail in my box. Perhaps this afternoon