Extraordinary Mistakes
That day

Diego sits by himself on the living room. His back faces the wall, but he still flinches whenever a noise disturbs the quietness of the room. No one can show up behind him and see what he’s typing, but still, he quickly changes the screen of his laptop to show the deviant forum instead.

He’s used to hiding what he’s really up to, so now, even when he’s alone, he still can’t trust that no one will catch him.

Most times, when he pretends to be posting on the forums and talking to people interested in joining the movement, he’s actually only messaging the survivors of the Ariston community.

He’s writing a new message in Spanish, trusting that the automatic translator will honor his words.

“Whenever I look back to that day, it puzzles me how it started as the best day of my life, the one that nothing could ruin and how quickly it turned into a nightmare-”

A soft blow of wind opens the window next to him. He quickly changes the screen while holding his breath. Diego looks around one more time and changes the screen back.

“One that I find myself trapped in since. I know, brothers and sisters, that you want revenge. But I urge you to change your target. Some of you have criticized me for being part of the movement because of the Angel of Death. I haven’t found yet who was responsible for the massacre, but I guarantee you, please trust me on this, it wasn’t her.”

He pauses and deletesit wasn’t her.

“She killed our family, but do we care about the executioner more than the mind behind it? Do we not want to find out who planned it? Who ordered our death? Do we not want justice? I admit this, I also-”

The door opens wide, and Megan faces him. He nods and smiles even. She takes her time to grab a glass and pour water in it. Drinks it slowly while looking at the white wall, ignoring him. She washes and dries the cup and goes away.

“I also wish she was never born.”

January 2010

On the poorest part of New York city, Diego, his sister, mother, and father gather on their one-bedroom house. His father has some news to share.

“I met with the leader. He told me that we could stay with them and only asked in return that I’d join the fight and Diego too when he turns 16,” he says in Spanish.

“What about me and Camila? Do we have to stay behind?” Diego’s mother asks.

“No. You are coming too.”

“We’re not deviants.”

“That’s ok, they accept everyone.”

“Sebastian, I’m not sure about this. You’d have to fight...”

“We can’t keep running from the authorities. If they catch us, what will happen to Diego and Camila?”

“I’m afraid, Sebastian.”

“I know, they have no problems with defectors. If we get there and think that it isn’t our place, we’ll leave. I promise.”

They moved to the Capital and never left. Camila and Diego made friends, and Sebastian healed the injured deviants and the ones in charge of keeping the illusion that protected the community from the outside world.

Their life was almost perfect, and for a moment they forgot what was like before, when they were afraid of their own shadow.

On his first day there, during the welcoming party that the community organized, Diego exchanged a look with Jasilyn, the daughter of Xiuhtezcatl, their new leader. The girl waved and he looked away, blushing. He wanted to, but for the next few days ignored her instead of talking whenever he saw her passing by. Which happened more and more often, not a coincidence at all, she was actively trying to catch his attention.

One month later, he saw her crying on her own next to the school. He went near her and made his ears enormous and his nose too small. Laughing replaced her tears and they became inseparable.

Jasilyn wasn’t a deviant, but she felt their pain, having watched her people come back wounded or not even coming back at all. War was always present, and only Diego had the power to take her mind out of it. They would spend a good part of their days looking at the clouds and discussing which shapes they could see.

When Diego turned 16 in 2012, Jasilyn feared he would be put in the front lines, changing the appearance of their soldiers. Xiuhtezcatl convinced the entire community that Diego should be in charge of supply missions.

On that April day 2013, Diego gets up earlier than usual, he hasn’t slept all night.

“Should I do it, father?” Diego’s foot keeps tapping and he holds his leg with his hand to stop it.

“You love her, she loves you. If you are old enough to go to war, you are old enough to make your own decisions. If that’s what you want, you should ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Tomorrow I’ll buy the ring.” Diego’s eyes fill with tears.

“Diego, what do I always say?” He smiles and puts his hand on the boy’s shoulders.

“Don’t take tomorrow for granted,” they both say it at the same time.

“Yes, buy it today. You’ve been working hard; buy something she’ll appreciate. When you see it, you’ll know. I wish Camila could come with you, but she has a full day at the school today.”

His father hugs him, which takes him by surprise. While he was extremely caring toward Camila, to Diego a smile was already too much show of affection. The hug and the words were perhaps a shift in their relationship, a new direction that Diego craved for years.

Diego passes by the school on the way out and tells his sister what he’s about to do, she gives him some hints on which ring to choose, telling him straight away, between laughs, to choose the opposite of what he thinks it’s pretty.

He changed his appearance, not that it was needed, but it gives him a sense of safety. His brown hair turned blonde, and his dark skin completely white and left the community toward the city center.

The cars horning and the people shouting aren’t as stressful to him as it once was. It took some time to get used to it but having spent more time on the city and across the country than at home for a year now, he could now go around unbothered.

His English improved greatly because of all the people that he came across throughout his journeys, but he still felt a bit too self-conscious and preferred his mother tongue. The interaction on the jewelry was straightforward, and he practiced it on the day before.

As he walks inside the store, he’s immediately taken aback by the different rings, sizes, colors. The shopkeeper notices it and comes to his rescue.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Uh...sí, yes... I’m want buy a ring for asking marrying.”

“What kind of ring would she like?” The woman asks in Spanish.

Diego smiles, all his nerves dissipate, and he explains in Spanish what’s Jasylin’s style, how she wears the simplest of clothes and still looks beautiful.

“I have a few in mind, come take a look.” She shows him three different options.

Diego’s eyes glow, he pictures the rings on Jasilyn’s fingers, her smile when she tells him she accepts him forever.

“They are all so beautiful. I can’t choose.”

“I work here for 30 years, my advice... just follow your heart. It has brought you here. You know deep down which one she’ll prefer. And this is what I do for a living, but it’s less about the ring and more about who hands it to you. Keep my secret safe!” She winks at him.

He laughs and thanks the woman for her kindness, surely, she wouldn’t be so kind if she knew where he came from. He ended up choosing one and left the store with a gigantic smile on his face.

When he starts walking back home, something strange happens, everyone around him is glued to their phones, some even crying. The entire street stopped. Their expressions are blank. He asks a woman near him what’s going on and she doesn’t react.

“What happens?” He shakes her.

“The... terrorists...”

Diego keeps shaking her.

“They... they were slaughtered.”

“Who? Five?”Please say the Five.

She shows him on her phone the video of Megan’s blue light firing in every direction, the bodies piling up on the floor, then a white light that destroys everything. He recognizes it, but that can’t be true.

The video keeps repeating and each new play feels more surreal than the one before.

He walks away, slowly, clumsy hitting the people as he passes them by. Every few steps he has to stop. He tries to focus on a point, but everything is blurred. His ability turns off and he goes back to his appearance. Just two more steps, there’s an alley coming up. There he’ll be safe.

He turns right and enters the alley, falls to his knees, and throws up.

When I get home, it’ll all be okay. This isn’t real. I’m either imagining it or it’s fake. I’ll go back home, and everyone will be there waiting for me.

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