Thoughts of Thomas: The Story of Mark

The story of Mark is a story of a kindred soul, a soul I had known before and will know again. He was a friend and a family member, but most important he had the power.

Mark was a typical late teen’s type of guy when I first met him; you were never for sure which head was in charge. (Please forgive me if you are offended. I mean no harm.) What I liked about him most was that he was straightforward and real, he was an open book. If you didn’t like the story put the book down, and I did at times through the years but I always picked it up again because I had grown to love him.

You have read my stories over the past few months and must think my life is a never ending stream of one success after another. Let me tell you this is far from the truth, the failures are many and they hurt far more, than I can explain. If someone comes to me for help they have ran out of options. The real world can no longer give them any hope.

This is a story of how I failed time after time to give the right advice, and held back some of what I knew, so I would not offend some members of the family.

It took a while before Mark and I got to know each other well enough that we could talk freely about the Art. He was a young man full of raw power, I was twenty-five years his senior and had already walked his path. But you can always learn something from anyone with the power, and I wanted to help him if I could.

We had many long talks on different subjects but they usually ended up about the Art. He was eager to learn everything he could, and I was glad to help when I could. But the gift is different in all people; his was more about predicting the future. Something I can’t do, I do get bad or good feelings about things, but he could tell if someone was coming and who it was. He like most people new to the power liked the dark side the promise of power is hard to overcome; they don’t realize the promise is empty. So I slowly steered him away from the dark side and encouraged him to pursue his talents to help himself and others.

Back then we had a family party at my house almost every weekend and he was there for most of them. It was a great time in my life to be surrounded by the people I loved, and that was when I learned love was far more powerful than anything I had ever used to bring on the power. I didn’t even have to try. It filled the air and I walked around in a spiritual high the whole night. Love of your God, your family and mankind is a powerful thing. The power I get from people that love and believe in me is strong and pure.

At one of the parties he seemed different, withdrawn, not his usual outgoing self. He stayed in the kitchen by himself and seemed indifferent to the party on the patio. I thought he must have had a fight with his girlfriend or parents and just needed some time.

When his mood didn’t change after an hour or so I left the party to see if I could cheer him up.

When I asked him what was bothering him he wouldn’t say. He just looked me in the eye and said “bless me." Now I didn’t then and never have thought I could bless anything. In fact even the use of the term “bless me” didn’t set well with me. I’m not a Pastor or Priest, not even a parishioner so I believe that leaves me out of the blessing business.

I don’t believe now he meant bless in the classic since of the word, it was the only word that came close to what he needed. What he needed was energy, someone or thing had drained him. Or he used his up in some manner unknown to me. At that time I had never used that much power, and didn’t know you could. Since then I have used all of my power on several occasions.

I didn’t have the experience to recognize his symptoms. If I had been I would have tried to find out more about what happened to him and perhaps I might have altered his path. To one that wouldn’t eventually lead to his early death, a widow and five fatherless children but it was not to be.

I knew from earlier experiences that I could give him what he wanted. It’s a fairly easy thing to transfer energy for one person to another. But I was not experienced enough to know what he needed was someone he could trust to confide in. Someone that would not judge, only listen so he could find the answer to his problem.

I didn’t know he was in love with someone that didn’t deserve his respect, much less his love. But in fairness I must say she never tried to hide what she was, she did use her beauty and personality to mask herself. But reality was there for all to see if you took the time to look. She was a lost soul always looking for acceptance and would do whatever it took to get it. I believe he knew it, but we have no control over who we love.

He wanted acceptance of his powers from his parents. In this we shared the same desire but both our parents were fundamental Christians and that would never happen. We both knew it; I accepted it. I don’t know if he ever did for we grew apart as the years past.

All this and undoubtedly a lot more, I don’t know, lead to (over the next ten to twelve years) a heavy chemical dependence.

This and more I knew for years and said nothing. We weren't just friends, he respected me. I might have made a difference if I had spoke my mind, even if I lost him as a friend.

Over the years I have wondered was I the friend he though I was. Would a true friend speak his mind even if he lost the friendship?

Looking back on it I believe a friend not only should, a friend would tell it as they see it. I should have shined a light on the dark corner where he had the truth hidden, and accepted the consequence.

Do I believe it would have made a difference? No because his wife can be whatever the one she’s with at the time wants, and that’s a hard thing to walk away from for anyone. Add to that the fact that he loved her made my chances of changing anything close to zero, but I should have tried.

We continued to have family parties but less frequently than before, and over the next few years everyone drifted apart. But every time we had a gathering he always asks for a blessing. It’s plain to me now someone had to be draining him and it went right over my head. I had used the power for ten years or so, but I know now I knew little about the power and I was so caught up in myself I couldn't see a friend in trouble. All I saw was a chance to show my power. Self pride always leads you down the wrong path.

When you are "Chosen" a great responsibility comes with the gift, you know things others don’t and you must determine what to tell and what to keep to yourself. I feel in his case I made a lot of wrong decisions.

Five years ago I got a call Mark was in the hospital on life support. It seems his heart stopped for no apparent reason and he was in intensive care.

After hearing the bad news my wife and I got ready to go to the hospital. My son and his wife came by and picked me and my wife up and we were at the hospital in less than an hour.

When we arrived the family was gathered outside the hospital waiting to see him, the visiting hours for ICU wouldn’t be for another thirty minutes. So we gathered around some benches under some large Oak trees “so they could smoke” and talked.

That’s when I learned some more about what happened to him. Seems he went to sleep and just stopped breathing.

My daughter in-law and his wife wanted to know if I could help in some way, but his father was there. He is a Baptist Minister, and I didn’t want to offend him. But I had been asked to help. What was I to do...take a chance on offending his father or honor his wife and sister’s request?

My talents with the Art were well known in the family so I don’t know why I felt I had to hide it, but I did. Another mistake to add to the others I keep making with Mark.

When I entered his room and saw all the hoses and monitors he had, I couldn't help but wonder “as I always do” if the treatment wasn't worse than the disease.

We all gathered around his bed for a few minutes, and then most withdrew leaving only me and his father. As I extended my hand to feel what I could, his father started to pray. I knew he was only trying to protect his son from something he didn’t understand, but it still bothered me. I didn’t want to compete with someone’s religion, I never do that.

It only took fifteen or twenty seconds to know all there was to know, so I left the room and waited in the hall.

As I waited on the others I thought about how weak he was, how little life was left in him and how calm I was. This was a good friend of mine I should feel something, but I didn’t.

It wasn't long before they all came out of his room and gathered around me. I could tell by the look in there eyes (including his father’s) they expected an answer to their question about Mark, and they believed I could give it to them.

The words that came out of my mouth sounded foreign and distant to me. Almost as if someone else was saying them.

What I said was “There is no death here.” What I didn’t say was if he didn’t change there would be.

The question that has haunted me for years is did I believe he wouldn’t change and I was trying to save the family the burden of knowing the truth. Or was I once again letting someone down because I was not sure of myself.

I still don’t know for sure because we are always in a state of change, what is clear now was not yesterday.

It all goes back to what you tell and what you keep to yourself. I have come to the conclusion you keep to yourself what you can’t change and what they won't or can’t accept.

A year or so later he had another attack, this one left him partially disabled from a prolonged lack of oxygen, but he survived.

I learned later he had been working a lot of hours and was a heavy Cocaine user.

Three years ago he died of an over dose, and on his death certificate it was cardiac arrest but I knew it was from all the drugs he had and was taking at the time.

What a waste of a good and caring soul, which was led astray by love that I don’t believe was ever returned in kind. But that’s just my opinion and I don’t know the whole story. I do know he had and she has more than their share of demons and she was the biggest one of his.

I am looking forward to my next meeting with Mark. I hope we both do better next time.

Thomas