Control of the Supernaturals_ On Hold

1) The mysterious boy

"Hey! What's this?" asked Pat, Richie's younger brother.

"I have been invited for an interview by 'Let US tell YOUR future'," Richie thrust the envelope in his hands.

Pat glanced at the invitation and said, "Let me tell your future. You are going to be a mind reader."

"Shhh! Keep it down Pat. Even if I can read minds I can't use it as a career to earn money," said Richie.

"But I can use my healing abilities to help, earn and get famous," said Pat. "No you can't," said Richie.

"How come?" asked Pat. "First of all, you can't control them. Secondly, even if you could control them I don't think it is safe to reveal them to the world," said Richie.

"But you know how I love to ..." started Pat but the rattling of the door interfered in his speech.

"End of discussion, Pat!" whispered Richie "Come in!" he said in a louder voice.

"How can I if you have got the door locked?" they heard an annoyed voice. "Sorry!" said Pat and opened the door.

"Hi Austin!" said Richie, "Where's Jake?" "Dunno, thought I'd find him here." said Austin.

Suddenly the door burst open and Jake fell into the room, followed by the orphanage bully.

"You dare cheek me?" he shouted and grabbed Jake by his neck.

"Sorry!" choked Jake.

"Don't you dare cross my path again or else ..." he let go of Jake and cracked his knuckles together.

He turned around suddenly, and left their room, banging the door behind him.

"Glad that's over," said Pat "How are you feeling buddy?"

"Fine but a little bit crumpled," said Jake massaging his neck "Why didn't you help me?"

"What could we do against a five and a half feet tall bully? It was stupid of you to annoy him," said Austin.

"I only put a fake rubber lizard in his lunch. Wasn't my fault he screamed like a girl and made a fool out of himself," explained Jake.

"Then, as usual, you started bragging that you were the one who got the better of him," laughed Pat.

"Well, I couldn't let anyone else take the credit," said Jake.

"It's five minutes to bedtime. Get into bed before the lights are out, I don't want any disturbance after that," said Richie.

All four of them undressed and got into bed just as the lights went out.

Richard and Patrick looked nothing alike. Richie was dark with brown hair, matching eyes and a solemn expression on his face.

On the other hand, Pat was fair with blond hair and lots of freckles. He had a button like nose, a cheeky grin and a naughty sparkle in his blue eyes which made people look at him twice if they got a glimpse of him.

Like the other orphans he was not noticed but unlike the others he was not given loathing looks if someone happened to glance at him.

Pat fell asleep at once. He found himself in a round room with out any furniture.

He saw an old man with a white beard walk towards him. "Beware!" said the old man in a cracking voice. "Beware of the mightiest of all evils, preparing to attack and enslave all mankind."

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" asked Pat.

"This!" said the old man and began to draw something in the air with his finger. It looked like the 'Danger' sign with cross bones and skull, but instead of the skull the old man had drawn a single eye which was wide open.

Pat wanted to ask so many questions but the bent figure of the old man faded away.

Pat woke up to find himself safe and sound in his bed. After a long time he fell asleep again.

Richie lay thinking in his bed, his thoughts muddled. He closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to go to sleep before he began thinking about the strange dream that had been nagging him for the past two days.

Slowly he drifted off to sleep. "Where's the boy?" he asked himself.

He was standing on aground made up of misty clouds. He tried to touch them but could not feel anything. The clouds looked like thick smoke but they seemed to balance his weight easily.

He turned around and saw a boy lying several feet away. He ran towards him but could not reach him. He ran and ran but the blur figure of the boy seemed to remain at a constant distance.

Finally he sat down and strained his eyes to look at the boy through the mist. "Is he moving?" whispered Richie to himself, "or is it just the mist?"

He looked hard towards him and saw him stirring. "Yes!" he cried and stood up.

He blinked and found himself staring at the blank roof. The mist and the boy had disappeared. Richie was breathing heavily and his forehead was wet with sweat.

He had, yet again, failed to talk to the mysterious dream boy.