October 11, 2012
By novelist95 BRONZE, N/a, Virginia
novelist95 BRONZE, N/a, Virginia
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments


Everything around me was white. A thousand drums pounded in my ears. A sharp pain arose in my side, but all in all I was alive. A light was being forced into my eyes, voices began to stir around. I could hear a slow, faint beeping as my body began to recuperate. At first it was slow, then, as I grew more and more anxious, the beeping became fast without any sense of rhythm. The room around me was painted a soft eggshell white. Doctors adorned in green clothing crowded around me. They were murmuring amongst themselves. Everything became clear as my eyes came into focus. Scanning down the length of my body, I recognized several clear tubes connected to my hands and feet. A large, bloodied patch was glued to my left hip. My head was spinning, the anesthetic was losing effect.

I can’t even recall one moment of fruition or merriment since the day of my departure from my grandma’s house in Virginia. My life hasn’t been what some may call pleasant. I spend most of my time alone in my dorm with my eyes fixated upon my computer screen, mostly on Facebook, scrolling up and down the pages, envying each and every one of my “friends” that are having the times of their lives. It has been made clear that the world has no intention of that for me. The last time I smiled was the day before I departed for college. It was a splendid day indeed, but ever since then I have been beaten down and fed to the dogs. I never imagined how cruel the real world could be. It shows mercy only to the wisest who have gained the right to happiness, where as I am simply a teenaged boy who twiddles his thumbs and continues living each and every day in a monotonous fashion.
It’s been awhile since I’ve had any real adventure in my life. Nothing has been easy for my grandma and me ever since my Dad left. He was the only parent I had back then. My mother died from complications after my birth, or at least that’s what y grandma told me. Supposedly, my Dad was a bad man, from what my grandma says. He didn’t mean to be bad, but something in his mind just wasn’t quite right, or as my grandma would say, “he was too busy double dipping into the loco sauce when he should have been focusing on my little angel.” I remember the day he left like it was yesterday.

The day was August 9th, 2004. I was twelve years old. I was so cheerful back then. I was blind to the true nature of the universe. The only things I cared about were baseball and video games, a true testament to my immaturity. It was a Saturday morning, but not just any Saturday, the day that I was to try out for the twelve year old all-star team. The sun peeked cautiously over the tree tops as we neared the field. It was a remarkable sight to sea. The weary sun expelled its heavenly glow all around me. The gentle, low cut grass was covered in a thin film of dew. The rooster crowed from beyond the edge of the forest behind the field. The crimson clay absorbed the morning sunlight. The car came to a stop as we parked beside the visiting dugout. We were early, so early in fact that the coach, who generally is always the first one on the field, was nowhere to be seen. The faint sound of shifting rocks caught my attention and I glanced in the opposite direction to me. A white blur zigzagged through the parking lot, coming to an abrupt stop beside me. A cloud of dust bombarded me, penetrating my lungs. In the passenger seat of the vehicle was an intriguing figure. He appeared to be docile with his buck teeth protruding from the vicinity of his lips. His blonde hair resembled that of a brutally used mop, tossed in every direction. He was rather frail, kind of like a tooth pick. This amused me, seeing that I couldn’t help but to smile as he waved spasmodically. Seated next to him was a polar bear, a man with white hair plastered all over his wrinkly body. He was much older than my dad but he too had a funny appeal to him. A cold hand was placed on my shoulder, returning me to reality. My father passed to me my bat, glove, and metal spiked cleats.

Practice was short that day. Oddly enough, only three people showed up. My Dad and I went out to eat afterwards, and one of my teammates followed us all the way there. I wasn’t too sure if he really was my teammate or not, because I had never seen the kid or his Dad before, but he wore our team colors so I only assumed the obvious. The entire way there, my father was acting strange. His bushy brow was covered in sweat and he tapped his fingers uncontrollably against the top of the steering wheel. He rocked back and forth as he was driving, but I didn’t think anything of it. He kept looking over his shoulder, eyeing the white car with the mop headed kid and polar bear father that followed closely behind us. The polar bear had his old Verizon flip phone glued to the side of his face. It was then that something odd happened. The boy in the passenger seat disappeared and reappeared within the blink of an eye. When he returned, he was much older. My Dad turned into a side road and parked the car in a remote area full of trees and foliage. He instructed me to stay in the car. He opened his door quickly and leaned up against the hood of the car. The white car pulled in seconds after us and both the passenger and the driver exited the car. My Dad walked over to them and began to speak in an inaudible tone. The polar bear reached into his back pocket and removed a gun. He pressed it to my father’s chest and the passenger removed a pair of hand-cuffs.

I was confused. I didn’t know what to do or what was going on. My Dad, my hero, was being arrested by two random people. It didn’t add up. Suddenly, my head began to hurt and blood dripped from my nose. The car began to vibrate and the polar bear threw my father to the ground and said, “Your son is one of us?” That was the last thing I remember. I blacked out and when I awoke, I was in my bed at my grandma’s house in Virginia.

It was too early to be awake during the summer. Bags of skin hung below my deep blue eyes. I wiped the fog from the window as I peeled away the vanilla blinds. The sun blanketed the campus grounds in a silhouette of gold as the shadows were erased. With each minute that passed, drops of gold further enlightened the school yard, revealing a man in a dark black trench coat. His cold, dreary eyes were like daggers, impaling me in the chest, directly reaching into my soul. The sun continued to rise over the school buildings. As its beautiful, warm rays of comfort reached the man, he disappeared in the wind, leaving only a crow in his place. Its black, ominous wings flapped endlessly as it disappeared into the shadows in between the lunch hall and the campus entrance. Cold chills transcended down my body. I stood still, transfixed in a state of shock and confusion. Deep within my soul a foul darkness stirred. The world before me was a blur as my legs gave away. Time slowed as I effortlessly glided through the thick air around me. My eyes rolled back into my head as a sudden darkness overwhelmed me. As I sat still in the omnipotent darkness, the sound of rustling wings echoed faintly in my ears. Just as suddenly as I was enveloped by the darkness, I was standing at the scene of a crash, covered in fresh, rose colored blood. A young boy of about seven years in age rested on the ground before me, unconscious. His father, a rather large man, was lodged in between the steering wheel and the seat with a shard of glass protruding from the side of his bald head.
A large chunk of his shaggy, blonde hair was missing. Blood trickled down the side of his face. I kneeled down to take his hands in mine, but they were cold. His cherry red shirt was hanging limp from the dented car door. The glass fragments glimmered in the flames. As I lifted his limp body onto my lap, I drew blind. A wave of golden light crashed down upon me, erasing the disastrous image before my eyes, returning me to my dorm room. A small puddle of blood rested beside me as I jerked up into an upright position, perpendicular to the wooden floor. The same black crow danced mockingly on my window seal, pecking repeatedly at the sparkling glass. The golden light that had rescued me shined bright through my window, it was the sun.

Several hours had passed from my unexplained fainting. I dabbed gently at my slowly healing wound. The glass to my right was still cracked from the collision with my head. The hydrogen peroxide burned as it invaded the patch of vulnerable flesh. It was 9’oclock, time for breakfast. I was slow to my feet, unable to maintain my balance. Oddly enough, I wasn’t hungry; I suppose it was from the loss of blood. I gripped the brass bed frame and guided myself back onto the checker pattern bed comforter. I reached lazily for the vibrating phone beside me, it was Chris!

“Hey dude, I have a question for you.” Chris asked instantly.

“Nothing really, chilling on my bed, listening to some music, so what’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering since I haven’t seen you in a while, if you would want to come and stay for a week or two. I’m not doing anything special and my Dad and I were talking about you and I guess I realized how much I missed you man.”

“Sounds good to me, but hey, while I have you on the line, did you see anything strange this morning?”

“As in…?”

“Nothing, never mind, I guess I’m just being paranoid. When should I come down, I’m not doing anything over the break so…?”

“Anytime is fine with me, just call me in advance before you show up at my doorstep, I need a little time to tidy up, you know how unorganized I am.”

“No problem, it sounds like a plan to me, see you then bro, thanks for the invitation.”

I slid my tan, stubby finger across the smooth touch screen and the call ended. I removed the patch from my temple and placed the tip of my index finger beneath the bandage, it was dry. With a quick jerk, I ripped the bandage from my head, inevitably tearing out several strands of hair in the process. It was odd, I felt no pain. It was, borderline enjoyable.
The sun now stood boldly before the earth, illuminating everything in the reach of its golden tipped fingers. Birds chirped as they hopped across the trees just outside of my window. A thick haze of black smoke twisted and coiled its way up into the sky from down below. The smokes vile odor reached me, clogging my lungs, causing my eyes to water in response. I hoisted myself up slowly from the bed and struggled to regain my balance. I slid on my Cavalier alumni jacket and slowly approached the dorm window and clasped the both of the small brass knobs. With a slight tug, the windows opened inwards, allowing a gust of wind into the room. Like a coup of disturbed chickens, my term paper scattered across the room. I edged my torso from the window, straining to reach the ancient oak tree that slept just outside of my window. Daringly, as I managed to grab hold of the thick branch, I leaped from the window and swung to the base of the oak tree like a wild monkey. I squeezed tightly, holding on for my life. The birds diffused across the school yard, inevitably bombarding the smoking teenagers with a massive deposit of white feces. I couldn’t help but to laugh, they deserved it after all. I descended down the large tree, swinging from tree branch to tree branch, dodging the small twigs in my path. A cloud of dust arose from the base of the tree as I lost my footing on the final branch, crashing into the dirt below.

My skinny jeans were covered in a thin film of dirt. My brown hair looked as if it housed a nest of crows. It stuck up in every conceivable direction. I ignored the smoking teenagers that toyed with their matches behind me and casually made my way to the front gate of the campus. Fortunately for me, it was already open, so there was no need to enter in any code. As I stepped onto the grey, ever present pavement, a black, four-door hearse passed in front of me. On the license plate was a picture of a crow; it was a Baltimore license plate. Five numbers were printed on the back, 8-17-12. It was strange; it was the very date of the cruise Chris had just invited me to. The air seemed to become thick and once again, a chilling shiver descended down my body, covering me in goose bumps from head to toe. Surely I was imagining things, but the scene before me was indisputable. The back window to the hearse opened slowly. I watched closely. Red, beady eyes stared back at me, digging into me just as the crow had done before. My legs began to wobble uncontrollably. My knees buckled inwards and I dropped to the ground, incapable of catching myself. The red eyes disappeared and as I lifted my head, the hearse was gone. A small group of students neared from my right, each dressed in the standard teen apparel, a t-shirt and denim jeans.
Without a second thought, I turned away from the students and continued down the sidewalk, intoxicated by a haze of confusion. I reached into my pocket and removed my golden keys. Attached to the grip of the key was a rubber covering in the shape of a baseball. Like a knife into a jar of jelly, the key slid into the driver’s side door and with a quick turn of my wrist, the door swung open slowly. The rustic paint left a stain on my hand as closed it shut behind me. Inside something smelled rotten, perhaps it was the compiled trash under the passenger seat, or maybe it was the milk I left in the back seat. Either way, the stench was almost unbearable. I inserted my key into ignition outlet and the car roared to life. The engine growled as I tested the break and gas pedals. If I was going to leave for North Carolina, it would be rational to head home to my mom’s in order to pack. Just like every other mom in the world, my mother is demanding, over protective, caring, and most of all overly sensitive. But I know her ways are derived from the goodness of her heart and are for my well-being, so it doesn’t really bother me anymore. I adjusted my mirrors and eased off the break. I gripped the control stick and slick it back until the orange marker stopped on reverse. With one arm clutching the head of the passenger seat, I backed out from in between the two cars parked in front and behind me. In the rearview mirror I spotted the man in the trench coat once again. He stood alongside the wooden fence across the road. His black trench coat ruffled in the wind. I glanced away from the dark man and adjusted the stick to the drive position. As I checked the mirror once again, he was gone, carried away by the wind. A small black crow perched on the telephone pole just above where the man had once been.
All around me were patches of grass flowers, clouds, and the blurred images of cars passing from my left. Seconds passed felt like minutes and minutes as hours as I continued down the highway. The sun’s golden hands began to release their grip on the earth, relinquishing its role to the periwinkle twilight. The moon took shape high above, nearly whole. My favorite song played on the radio, I was at peace. Hours had passed since my departure and the darkness began to become all too familiar with my eyes. A few hundred feet ahead was an underpass. It stood alone, illuminated by the pale moonlight. The three lanes merged into two and the car behind me followed closely behind. In my rearview mirror I could see the driver. He was rather large. Beside him sat a young child, perhaps seven years old at most.
I glanced quickly to the left. It was a bouquet of roses and a portrait placed in front of a white cross. The picture of the young boy haunted me. It was the same boy from my dream. I closed my eyes and breathed slow and heavily. I opened them once again and the cross was gone, it was just a part of my imagination. My attention returned to the road ahead of me. The front end of my Tahoe hovered over the dividing lines in the road. The steering wheel jerked to the right and I lost control of the car. The front crossed into the lane adjacent to mine and the back tires spun out of control. Everything moved in slow motion. In the corner of my eye, a large black object zoomed past, screeching as it attached to the roof of my car. Its talons dug into the ceiling as I expertly maneuvered around the car approaching from behind. The man’s car flipped as it rolled down into the median. The back of my car was destroyed as I crashed into the side of the overpass. My front windshield shattered as my air bag greeted me unexpectedly. My nose made a sudden popping sound and blood gushed from my nostrils. I struggled to free myself underneath of it. My hand gripped the plastic handle and with all my might I pushed. The door swung open and I scooted quickly, full of panic. My head pounded. I stumbled out into the pale moonlight and crawled to the foot of the decimated vehicle.
I lifted my head and eyed my reflection in the black back bumper. I struggled to stand but somewhere deep within me a hidden strength was set free. The young boy of about seven rested on the ground before me with his arms and legs twisted and contorted. His father, the rather large man, was lodged in between the steering wheel and the seat with a shard of glass protruding from the side of his bald head. The black grow dislodged itself from the roof of my car. It soared through the air, its black wings outlined by the iridescent light of the moon. It landed on the shoulder of the boy. Once again, my legs grew weak. My mind was overrun by the sudden realization of my actions. The crow flapped its wings and cawed repeatedly as I slipped away into an undisturbed slumber.
Everything around me was white. A thousand drums pounded in my ears. A sharp pain arose in my side, but all in all I was alive. A light was being forced into my eyes, voices began to stir around. I could hear a slow, faint beeping as my body began to recuperate. At first it was slow, then, as I grew more and more anxious, the beeping became fast without any sense of rhythm. The room around me was painted a soft eggshell white. Doctors adorned in green clothing crowded around me. They were murmuring amongst themselves. Everything became clear as my eyes came into focus. Scanning down the length of my body, I recognized several clear tubes connected to my hands and feet. A large, bloodied patch was glued to my left hip. My head was spinning, the anesthetic was losing effect.
How did I get here? Are the boy and the man alive? What if I killed them, I’ll never be able to live with myself. Who are these people in the room with me, and who is that man dressed in all black?
“Excuse me, sir. I would like to ask you a few questions about yourself. First off, what is your name?” asked the doctor adorned in a white gown with her cherry red hair tied back in a bow, seated just to my right. Her chair looked rather uncomfortable. Its white cushion seat was old and torn in many places.
“My name is Dalton Carroll. How did I get here? What is going on?”
The man at the foot of my bed answered in a hushed, inaudible tone. His eyes were hidden by a pair of tar black sunglasses. His black suit, glasses, and metallic briefcase immediately aroused a sense of suspicion
“What about the man and child, what happened to them, did I…”
“Yes.” The female doctor answered shortly.
No, how could I have done something like this. Am I going to go to jail, or am I going to be let off easy? And I still don’t understand why this man in black is here. She seems worried with that glass like look in her eyes. Deep down I can see her pain, what is going on here?
“Your father is waiting outside, would you like us to bring him in?” another doctor asked, breaking the silence.
“My father, my father is in a mental asylum? He was sent there five years ago after claiming that he could fly. Well whoever it is, bring him in. I’m desperate for some answers here.”

All but the man with the briefcase and the black suede tuxedo exited the room through the swinging double doors. My father’s jet black tuxedo stuck out like a sore thumb as he entered the room. Very much like the government worker, my father dressed in a suit and tie, carrying an identical briefcase. His glasses were of a different style, they were silver brimmed with black Polaroid lenses. His lower jaw was covered by a closely trimmed beard. Several scars ran down the right hemisphere of his face.
How is this possible? I haven’t seen my dad in five years and he is standing right before me as if nothing ever happened. I was told he was locked away in a mental institution.
“Hello son, how are you doing?” my father asked inquisitively.
“How does it look like I’m doing? I’m strapped to a hospital bed. I’m doing great. I think you owe me an explanation of what is going on here. I thought you were locked away for life.”
“That isn’t important right now, but I guess I do owe you an explanation. After being sent to the mental asylum, something in my brain snapped. Do you remember that news report three years back when there was a large explosion that killed over fifty people in northern Iowa? That was me. My powers were released. You see, I was never truly crazy. What drove me to my madness was that nobody believed me. I was in a situation much like yours. Two government workers were standing before me, explaining that I was an after product of nuclear contamination. Twenty-two years ago, your mother and I were visiting Japan when a nuclear facility collapsed, leaking contaminant chemicals into the water supply. The contaminated water was carried across the ocean in rice and other exports and eventually, the chemicals were ingested by thousands upon thousands of Americans. Over 32,000 people died. Those who didn’t were rewarded with super human capabilities. Your mother was one of the thirty thousand that died, just after giving birth to you. We were two of the thousands of survivors. People like you and I were either hunted, or recruited into the government. I, being a worthy potential asset to the humanoid investigative agency, was recruited to be a hunter, a humanoid responsible for capturing anyone who awakens their powers. Since you are my son, I am going to give you one of two options; you can both join the organization as a hunter and aid to our master plan or you can die.”
“I can’t believe you expect me to believe such lies. You truly have gone off the deep end, haven’t you?”
“How would you like to explain those visions you have been experiencing lately? You have psychic abilities son, and those visions are the least of it. I have been instructed to contain your power at all costs, even if that means killing you. You have the potential to become something similar to that of a nuclear warhead! You can wipe out countries with the flip of your wrist! But you see, I don’t want to recruit someone of your stature, I want your power for my own!”
As the last word slid from his lips, his arm began to twitch. He reached swiftly into his suit pocket and removed what appeared to be a tranquilizer dart. He removed his cell phone and placed it on the table beside me. In his right hand he rolled the dart over in his fingers. Reaching into his right pocket, he removed a small, metallic pistol, different than any I had seen before. His lips quivered.
“W-what are you going to do…to me?
“What I should have done a long time ago. This world is no place for someone like you. I’m sorry son; this is just how it has to be.”
“Who are you? If you are so powerful, then why do you have to tranquilize me to capture me alive? Couldn’t you just… take me? I don’t believe you; prove your power to me.”
He leaned gently against the wall behind him. He placed the pistol on the table and pressed his left finger tips on the floor. His eyes shined gold beneath his black Polaroid glasses. The air in the room suddenly seemed to shift in temperature. Fearful, tears began to trickle down the perimeter of my face. The water in the IV machine froze solid and my breath became visible. The windows shattered in the hospital room and even my tears froze solid. It even seemed as if time itself was beginning to freeze. This was like I had ever seen before. Who was this man? He surely wasn’t my father. If I don’t get out of here right now, I might be killed by this monster.
“Do you believe me now?” Dad barked arrogantly.
I held my breath and closed my eyes slowly, not wanting to accept the reality before me. I conjured up all of the strength in my body and lifted my arms up from my side.
“Leave, me, alone!”
The sound of a powerful gust of wind sounded in my ears. I opened my eyes slowly to find the room around me was roaring into life. A tremendous pressure was released from my hands, creating a wave of force so powerful that everything around me was swept away in the current. The walls of the room disintegrated and nurses and doctors shrieked as they were swept off their feet. My father and the other humanoid tracker were nowhere to be found. I scanned the area around me in awe. The entire top half of the hospital had been blown away. The wind blew gently, caressing my scalp.
Debris littered the roads beneath the hospital building. A broken fire hydrant spat up a storm of water, drenching people in every direction. The cries of terror and utter confusion echoed through the air and crawled into the depths of my brain, bringing a sudden realization to my eyes.
Just what in the world am I?

The author's comments:
I have worked on this piece for quite some while. The original piece was 50 pages and i still hadn't thought of an ending yet, so i completely went back, changed the intro, and changed the end of the story to leave it at a cliff hanger.

Similar Articles


This article has 1 comment.

on Oct. 15 2012 at 5:59 pm
Although I am not a big fan of most sci-fy, super hero genre based stories, this piece left me wanting more! It was so cleverly written with so many elelments thrown into it that I never saw coming. The intro really did a great job in establishing the strange phenomenon that occured later in the story. I also really liked how the beginning of the piece used parallelism to connect the piece. The transitions were smooth. Some parts were a little breathy. You could use a little bit of work on the dialogue but as a whole this was expertly crafted. If you don't mind me asking, just where do you plan to go from the ending? Are you going to leave it ambiguous or are you going to start a second story after he discovers his powers? The whole government theme and element really just made me, well, how can i explain it; it made me really interested in the piece as a whole. Truly worthy of some recognition!


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!