‘I need time alone. Please. I’ll call you back when I’m ready. Please.’

‘Rose, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked-’

‘Shut the hell up! Leave my freakin’ head! Our thoughts mix and burn and it hurts and I can’t keep you under wraps forever! We almost screwed up big time back there! Always saying we’re better, saying we don’t have to go down a path of violence but half the time I’m pulling you back Sol! You’re an adult, you’re the one who put this on me, and our existence is going to end Carissa’s life! So please! Let me be me for a while!’ The sound and fury in my head is like nothing I’ve known before, like clanging metals and pangs of pain reverberating through my body and fiercely pulsing. I slam my fist into a wall and leave a small crack.

With that, my head is silent.

I need the space from Sol. A lot of space. I sit down on the toilet seat, the claustrophobic walls seemingly closing in and begin to cry. It’s a hideous cry, one that outside of a school bathroom would seem abnormal. Here, people think it’s because you’re about to fail a test or have suffered a bad breakup, it’s nothing but common to hear mental breakdowns within a toilet stall here.

My nose is uncomfortably runny, I can not separate the tears from the mucus on my face as I pant and wheeze, attempting to compose myself. My head is the equivalent to television static, it’s too fuzzy to make a coherent thought. I’m in no state to have a rational conversation with my crime fighting partner right now. The swirl of threats and dark futures ahead loom over my head, the burden of the world hanging off my neck.

I bury my face into my palms, hoping that will muffle my crying. It’s a futile effort. The faded pale pink walls are suffocating me, getting less vibrant by the second as tears muddle my sight.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Straighten your back. Loosen the shoulders.

I tear out a piece of what feels like one-ply toilet paper and clean off the tears and snot off my face. I completely forgot I could evaporate the tears off my face by increasing my temperature, I completely forgot I’m even superhuman. I certainly don’t feel like it. Terror is constricting me like a cobra swallowing its prey, I don’t feel safe in my own body anymore.

Once again, I’m a normal helpless teenager, afraid and scared and full of grief.

I want to lash out at the world that hurled terror after terror towards innocents and the people I love. What’s the point of even being invincible if I can’t save everyone from this maelstrom of agony? I want to scream, so I scream. It’s bloodcurdling, with rage that oozes off the elongated sound that echoes in the bathroom. A faint voice asks if I’m okay with a knock on the door, I lie and say I am. I think I even tried to give an excuse, but it just came out as gibberish.

Do you ever wonder how in superhero movies and comic books people never reconcile the obvious alter ego with the hero? It’s because who the hell expects to find the monster man sitting in the girl’s bathroom crying at 8.10 in the morning? Any rational person assumes someone in here is losing their mind to normal teenager things. The thought that a whole HDB flat worth of lives could be lost, thousands more left to grieve dead relatives and friends and lovers because the girl who’s about to throw up in the bathroom stall can’t stop a trigger happy fiend would never cross any normal human’s mind!

God, can I even save everyone? I can’t accept a world where even one person there ends up as a casualty. I can’t handle reading it in the headlines, ‘ Salamander Man allegedly culprit of explosion at Dover’.

It’s absurd, that the world around me continues along its usual path, that I can’t pause the story of my life now. That I have to live and let the Earth spin. I can hear the grandfather clock at home ticking, the creeping feeling of time crawling forward until an inevitable conclusion: when I fail again. Where I have to look at another teenage life cut short, only this time it's Carissa’s. There’s a choking feeling that strangles me, a preemptive grieving I’m experiencing so the future will hurt a little less.

‘I’m sorry.’ Without me asking, their voice is a whisper once more in my head.

I want to tell Sol to leave, that I need to be alone now. But to even attempt to rid them in any meaningful way would be like ripping off my own flesh. We share thoughts, a body sometimes, a dream: to protect life. It’s asinine to think I can’t trust them. But their words are insidious, they infect me with a rage that I never knew I could feel otherwise.

‘Say what you want.’

‘I never got to save my family or my planet, no matter how much I wanted to or needed to. When my ship was crashing to Earth five years ago, I spent that time grieving, stewing in bitterness and rage. I wanted to reduce the universe down to ash, and I’m sorry for inflicting that pain on you as well. You were not ready to handle my emotions.’

I could only mutter some affirmation. It’s a great reasoning and explanation behind the dark thoughts plaguing my mind, but that justified nothing.

Still, there’s no reason to keep screaming at them, it’s a waste of time. The timebomb for catastrophe has begun to tick and I can’t defuse it alone.

‘I realised, back on my planet and more so now, that saving everyone is a foolish burden to put on yourself. I have limits, you have limits, everyone does.’ Sol says, still lost in thought. ‘We can only do our best, even if sometimes we fail. I’m sorry I failed you, but I was doing my best. You were doing yours too. Rose, it’s not always our fault. These are terrible circumstances that have befallen us, and neither of us were ready to deal with it. No duo could.’

‘But I’m so powerful now, Sol.’ I look at my palms, undamaged from leaving a crack in the wall and unscathed from surviving a fire in Lucky Plaza. ‘When I lift people up, they weigh nothing to me. Every high five I give I’m scared I’ll break someone’s wrist. Everyone is so fragile, and if I’m the only one who isn’t, then it's my duty to save them all. They’re the vulnerable ones, I have to fight for them.’

‘Yes. You fight for them. And you do a good job. You’ve been doing nothing but a good job. But you cannot carry everyone’s burdens on your shoulders. You must accept that there are always people you can not save. It is not a weakness of character to fail at helping everybody as an individual, it is life.’

Stolen story; please report.

There’s a beat of silence in between. I’m trying to find the words to justify the ideal of saving everybody, that I can help everybody, but the truth of the matter is even I know what a stupid endeavour it is. That sometimes there are lost causes in life.

‘You always try your best, you always want to help people. You never needed tragedy in your life to motivate you to do good. When we first bonded, you told me you wanted to use your powers to make a difference in the world, for a good cause. You are selfless without need to be, and that’s the best virtue there is.’ Sol spoke, their words now as soft as wool to put me at ease.

‘The reason Ashen will stand before us tonight is because of the fact you were good enough to see through the darkness and hang on to a thread of hope, to hold back because you know that there is always a better way no matter what your instincts and I tell you. That you don’t have to be like him to beat him. I can not lie and say it gets easier living with the guilt that you will survive while your loved ones don’t, but I can tell you that if you try your absolute best to help, we can move on. Not without grief, but without regret for existing and for doing all we can.’

I felt a part of my mind open up, like I was finally allowing Sol to see deeper into my soul.

‘I’m like this only because of Carissa, Sol. She’s the only reason I ever find it worth fighting these battles. Because I can save everyone, I should. That’s what she would want, it’s what she would expect from the Salamander. It’s why… we have to save her without losing ourselves. Because it’s what she would want.’ I tell them in soft tones, my mouth going dry despite never speaking. It’s very difficult to work for myself, but it’s always easier when it’s someone else to fight for.

The tears are slowly rolling out of my face again. Yet, a crippling weight on my shoulders has been lifted off. My breathing steadies, my vision begins to clear up, my thoughts are coherent again. The emotional release I got out of telling Sol felt like a geyser of water bursting out. I could feel my resolve begin to steel yet again. There’s still some fear in my throat, like an itch you try to cough out that comes back like it never left, but I figure that’s only going away after tonight. I made my way out of the toilet, the image of Carissa’s compassionate smile burned on my brain.

As I exited the toilet, I hear a familiar voice call out to me.

“Rosie? You alright? Carissa messaged me and I heard you…” Zhen Rong asked, his voice trailing off as he saw the absolute mess my face was in. He lifts his back off the wall he had been leaning on the whole time, clearly he had been standing there for a while. He inches closer, cupping my cheek with his hand and taking a good look at my face. At this moment, I’m grateful for the lack of security cameras and relative recluse of the bathroom behind the canteen. He stares deep into my swollen eyes and I look back at him.

“Are you okay?” His hand lingered for a bit before coming off my face.“I’m not- I- I don’t really know.” I chuckle half-heartedly.

“Carissa said she found you with Ashen then you left when she came, apparently super out of it. Did he say something to you? DId he do anything to you? He’s been a little weird lately too, he doesn’t want me coming over or like calling him to play games and stuff so I’m worried about him too-”

I wrap my arms around him without thinking, my body falling in on his as I fling myself onto him. He’s taken aback momentarily but returns the gesture in full, his head resting on my shoulder. It hurts hearing him care about Ashen, his best friend, when I know full well what a monster he is. It hurts knowing how much Zhen Rong is going to feel betrayed when his crimes come to light. It hurts me knowing that I’m going to be the one that gets Ashen arrested or much worse. I’m going to do my best tonight, but I need to grieve first. I hope he doesn’t mind his uniform being tear and snot stained by the end of the hug.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s okay.” He says, sounding completely certain of something so untrue.

I want to stay in a long embrace forever, the fact that it's with Zhen Rong would normally make my heart flutter and my cheeks burn red. It doesn’t now, but the innate safety I feel with him makes me feel like I can do what I need to do. He doesn’t press for an answer anymore, he does what he knows will make me feel better.

“You wanna go sick bay and lie down? I dunno, maybe say you got cramps or something. Maybe take the day off. You don’t look so good. Besides, your grades very good now right? Might as well… chillax if the stress is getting to you.” He advises as he pulls away from the embrace, gently smiling. I look at him and see the boy who broke my heart, who shattered it again, but I also see a wonderful friend who loves me in a way that reminds me that platonic love is as potent if not more so than romantic love.

I nod at him.

“You can’t keep making me love you, Zhenny. It’s unfair, after you just broke my heart.” I joke, trying to lighten up the mood.

“It’s what I do best. Deal with it, Rosie.” He slaps my back playfully and escorts me to the sick bay, along the way discussing how I’m going to fake brutal stomach cramping and how he’s going to vouch for me in there. For a fleeting moment, I’m happy as I think about the love I’ve received from everyone, how I’m not alone. Auntie Rosa, Carissa, Sol, Gabriel, there’s been so much love from people who don’t really know all the sides to me. Some people only know the Salamander, some people only know Rose. I wish everyone was allowed to know me.

I want nothing more than to divulge my greatest secret to Zhen Rong right now. To finally have a human confidant in my life. I want to try my best, I want to be able to go to bed tonight without any regrets. But I want it to be easier on my conscience too. Would it be all that bad if Zhen Rong knew? He worries about me anyways, he can probably keep a secret, and unlike a majority of people in the country and possibly world, he actually likes the Salamander.

My mouth opens but the words don’t come out. Like a nervous response. I realise now I don’t have the will necessary to let him into my world. I don’t have the will to let Carissa into my world. I don’t have the strength to let anyone know who I am. I can’t deal with the guilt if anything happens to them. Maybe it’s a little selfish, I know. Selfish that I’m always going to deny who I am to my loved ones. But I don’t care. I need to protect myself from the pain that’s packaged when you allow yourself to be vulnerable.

When we reach the sick bay, I tell him to leave so I can have some time to recover. I message Carissa and tell her I’m in the sickbay and not to visit, I’ll probably go home early anyways, to which she responds incredibly concerned because she knows I’m lying. I’m getting nauseous imagining her walking into her room tonight, unaware of the bomb somewhere in her room. I feel chills on my brain knowing that a bomb is going to kill Carissa and perhaps even more if I’m not good enough.

As is becoming unhealthily common, I decide to lie to Carissa again and tell her that I will tell her more when I’m better. I’m never going to do that. I’m going to stop Ashen, and she’ll never even know what happened today. I’m going to make sure of that. I don’t know what she’ll think of the Salamander after tonight, but I hope she understands that they did it all for her.

‘We aren’t killing him tonight, I want to lay that on the table now. If we stay in control, we can beat him and never even need to cross that line. You and I can do it, we stay calm, we stay strong, we win and we leave. We don’t need to do anything else.’ I instruct Sol. Carissa believes in a better world, wanting to clean up beaches and trusting me when I don’t deserve it, so I want to reward that faith by acting the way she’d want.

Sol is pensive but agreeable. We know what we cannot do, even if we want to. We aren’t the criminal the media says we are, who would never hesitate to be judge, jury and executioner. Sometimes, I wish to God that I was, but I’m not. We discuss battle strategy in our head among other things. We reminisce on simpler times, we talk about the complex future ahead. Some parts of me are dancing around the present, but I know I can’t hide much longer.