Sparks Fly

Chapter 8

Sparks Fly

Chapter 8

No. This can’t be true. This isn’t true. This is just a dream. A very vivid nightmare. But how? I question myself. How was I able to feel power flowing strongly within my blood-filled veins?

Each time I try to think of a logical explanation for the situation, I find none. When I think about it now, everything makes sense.

A gust of wind whirls around me as I my train of thought takes an intersection. My gaze shakes as I make my way to the hedge.

Cliff has the power to move objects with his mind. Telekinesis. I finally admit defeat at Cliff’s power. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was real. Does that mean that Ace also has powers in order to set a “barrier”? That also must mean that everyone I now live with has powers, right?

Wait, what am I saying? Am I going crazy? POWERS?

I laugh hesitantly as my numb legs lead me through the narrow, hedge hall.

I was almost killed. I would’ve died just minutes ago. Thanks to the electricity in the dead light bulbs, I’m alive right now.

The moment when all the light bulbs shined in unison made my body feel tingly. That kind of tingly when someone you like claims their love for you. All in all, I admit it was a good feeling. Something I’d like to feel more often.

I was the one who lit the light bulbs. I was the one who drove out the men. It was me.

“It was me . . .” I whisper, exiting the hallway of the hedge. “It was me who drove out the men. I saved myself. I have powers . . . No, no I don’t. Don’t be stupid!” I yell at myself, feeling confused and frightened. “Oh what I’m going to do to you guys.”

They’ve been hiding something on me, and even Ace asked me before, “They didn’t tell you, did they?”

I can’t help but remember that somebody is after us. Can they be scientists? Can they possibly know about the powers? Everything ties together. They aren’t normal. Or should I say we aren’t normal.

Why haven’t they told me yet? They’re probably scared to how I will react.

So I have a connection to electricity somehow. Cliff has telekinesis. Isabel has—What does she have?

My memory car parks at the side, written “weather” in graffiti. I try to look further back in my memory until I remember something crucial.

It was the afternoon when the weather was perfect, and there was no foreshadowing to a storm. It was when the light started flickering in the room, and Isabel seemed to make an excuse, blaming it on the weather. The weather shifted greatly into dark and gloomy that day.

I actually bought it. I wasn’t that perplexed then. I was a bit more preoccupied with the roaring, venomous lightning at that point.

That’s it!

I stop in my track.

Isabel was so fixed on the window and looked so concentrated. Why didn’t I see it before? She obviously possesses some sort of power connected to weather.

My walk quickens as the apartment comes in sight. Fury rises in me as the dark building meets my eyes. The thought of the people I now live with aggravates me.

My walk speeds into a jog as I imagine myself punching Lorcan’s jaw loose. I can almost hear the cracking. I shake the violent thought reluctantly from my head. My sweaty palms rub roughly against my pants. I just can’t believe they haven’t told me this before. This is big. Huge. Almost as big as the hole that formed in my belly on Dad’s funeral.