TOUCH

Thirty Two

Power is an illusion. You have a bit of it, and think yourself to have it all. Power gives you control, not possession. So long as what you control has a mind of its own, you cannot dictate everything it does.

The human mind is dominant. No matter who's it is. Man or woman. Everyone has the power to control their own mind, and those of others. A man can be weak minded, just as a woman can be. Everyone can be submissive, as everyone can be dominated. Yet, both these things are a choice.

Choice overcomes power. The great Lucifer fought against choice for the mere fact that it would deprive him of  the power he'd hold on mankind.

Yet, to be oppressed is to overestimate the power one has on you. It is to unintentionally hand yourself over, under the illusion that you're helpless. Helplessness does not exist. Not in the mind of Jordan Wales. There's always something you can do. So long as your mind thinks on its own, and you're not a 5 year old child, you have a choice. You either choose the hard way, to regain your power, or the easy way, to hand it over to someone else.

Jordan, once upon a time, thought herself to be powerful. She knew she had control over her own mind. A lie she feared to admit. She thought that, because she was the dictator of her life, because she could get any car she wants, any shoes she wanted, she had power. Her life was in her hands, everyone around her existed merely to make it better for her.

It was her life and her choice. The rules made were up to her to follow. If she didn't like it she wouldn't do it, simple as pie.

That was until she was placed under the dictatorship of Valery Dientes. Until her senses were no longer under her control, but rather under that of a Latin queen.

Her mind stopped asking questions about the world and how it worked, instead it asked how a masterpiece like Valery could have ever been painted.

If God exists, then Valery must've been made to resemble the likelihood of the Goddess He wanted next to him on his thrown. If the devil exists, then he must accept defeat and bow down to God for one of His greatest creations. If heaven exists, it isn't heaven in her absence. If hell were real, it would demolish in her presence. If Jordan's mind were a maze, she searched to find a spot that wouldn't contain an image of Valery.

She was frustrated, yet she couldn't wish the feeling away. She tried to get her out her mind, even for a while, to focus on the road in front of her, but how could her eyes not reinvent the sight of her? How could her eyes even attempt to unsee such a marvelous figure? How could the music blasting through her speakers deafen the sound of her voice?

She replayed their conversation more than she'd replayed 'baby shark' for Pal on her radio. A date. Friday night. Get to know each other. Fresh start.

The fact that Valery was willing to get to know her, to start over, to forget everything else. On Friday night, she'll  see a different side of Valery. So far, she's only known her body. She's had every inch of it memorized from head to toe. Now, Valery's mind would be open for her to see.

"Jojo, change the song!" Pal cried from the back. "CHANGE THE SONG!" he squeeled, kicking at her chair.

Jordan turned the volume down, looking at her brother through the rare view mirror. His light skin face was red now, his nose flaring in frustration. He must have been screaming for a while. She was just too preoccupied to hear.

"What's the magic word?" she asked.

Pal screamed out again, kicking the back of her seat.

"It's one word, and I'll change the song."

With a groan and a huff, moments of looking out the windows, and then laying back on his car seat, Pal finally wiped the tears from his eyes, and said,