☫ Chapter 5 ☫
I woke up with a jolt, causing my head to bang against something.
Rolling from side to side I refused to wake up completely before the alarm went on. I kept tapping the areas next to me, looking for my blanket in hope to keep me warm. With furrowed eyebrows, I squinted my eyes open. My eyes immediately widened when I became aware of everything. My vision was hazy due to not wearing my glasses but I was still able to see that something was terribly wrong.
I was no longer on my bed. That's not the actual problem though. It is an issue but it doesn't beat the other larger and more spine-chilling predicament. I was floating. I scrunched my nose as my eyes fluttered and greeted with the white ceiling of my room. So that's what I bumped my head against.
And then I noticed something much more scarier. There was a cockroach two inches away from my face. I felt my heart leap as my stomach clenched, terrified. I cautiously sucked in a breath as it crawled quickly.
"Oh, frick frack!" I whispered in a panic. I clasped my hands over my mouth making my scream muffled when the cockroach began flying. It's bug wings flapped around the room seeming not to comprehend my severe hysteria and minding its business.
I ignored trivial issues, not caring about things that didn't matter at the moment. I didn't necessarily think as the adrenaline coursed through my veins and my heart pumped. All while still floating, I grabbed my chemistry book and wracked it in the air aimlessly. I inwardly begged for it to hit the cockroach.
Then my eyes did something weird. Through blurred vision, I suddenly was able to see in a different perspective. A bird's eye view if we must. And in that very moment, my textbook hit the cockroach and the bug went flying right into my mini trash can.
Oh my goodness, I sighed with a wave of relief when I knew it would no longer flutter anywhere near me. I almost had a heart attack.
Now I was simply not paying attention to specific details; like how abnormal this was and the fact that things are getting weirder and weirder as the days go by. I pressed my palms against the ceiling and tried to somehow push myself down back on the bed. I bit my lips when my fingers dug into the ceiling, creating a dent. Okay. That's clearly not going to work out. I flipped myself over, now hovering in an air in a plane position.
My stomach dropped when I realized how far away from the floor I was. My knees buckled as I shuddered involuntarily. Sweat began forming down my forehead. Did this room suddenly get small? I feel like it did. It might have. At this point, I'm not sure if anything is really real.
I roughly heaved a sigh. See, I'm not a complete idiot when it comes to weird situations. I have my fair share in experiencing them as you all casually witnessed. But I don't know. It's just something about this particular one that seems very wrong. It could just be the way I'm defying gravity. Something a normal, everyday, average, ordinary human, such as myself, do not take part in.
I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not a normal, everyday, average, ordinary human.
Let's format this all neatly before my conspiracy theories blind me from what's actually happening. Predicament: I'm flying. Reason: I could be dreaming and/or hallucinating. Logic: I have officially reached the point of craziness. Conclusion: I need to get to the ground.
"Get on the ground," I said to myself while blowing my cheeks with frustration. "How do I do that?"
I placed my hands in a swimming pose and tried to swim my way back into bed. It was a ridiculous idea and not quite working. I followed the strokes I would do if I was in a pool, managing to get closer to my bed but still not reaching it. Maybe I'm supposed to demand it? Or pull on a Peter Pan.
"I believe I can get down," I whispered and clenched my fists tightly with closed eyes. "I believe."
Peter Pan says the opposite, doesn't he? Shaking my head, I facepalmed myself in disappointment. I have this all wrong. I need to think outside of the box.
I got myself comfortable - as comfortable as I could possibly get if I'm being candid. My stance was straight, as I stood up and walked around the room, my feet seeming to feel as though the floor was a threat, therefore still not touching it.
It's not lava or anything. It doesn't need to freak out.
With a long and painful sigh -that's already my third sigh this morning- I rubbed my temples, easing the pain of my headache. I then crossed my arms over my chest and pursed my lips in concentration. My fingers were mindlessly drumming themselves along my arms as my feet tapped against the air.
If I can't get on the ground maybe I should find out what I can do in the air?
I wonder if I could sit in the air. That'd be cool. I got into a yoga position, feeling myself smiling when I still floated. "Ha!" I exclaimed and pointed my fingers by my knee in the way I remembered someone doing on TV. I chuckled as my face flushed. Yes, this is much better than being up so high. Heights are not a good thing. I doubt it's even safe.
Maybe I should put on a turban and have a pet snake. Like those cartoons.
Beep! Beep!
With a startle, I collapsed onto the ground. My alarm continued blaring until I lazily hit the snooze button. I put my glasses on, itching the bridge of my nose during the process.
Then a beautiful awe striking realization hit me. I can touch the ground! I can finally touch the ground. I began stomping my feet against the floor, curling my toes. It's good to be following the laws of gravity again.
"What's with all the noise?!" Grandma yelled.
"Sorry, s-something fell," I said and got out of my room. "Good morning," I greeted her, as she tied her hair up with a scarf. She ignored me and went over to the kitchen, sitting next to grandpa.
I did my boring morning routine numbly as I thought overall the peculiar things that took place throughout these short eventful days. It all leads up to Dr. Robertson and the bird. When I signed up for the internship I didn't receive a waiver that said: Come at your own risk. Casualties such as getting bitten by an injected bird, thus rendering you with the abilities to levitate may and 'most likely' will occur. You've been warned.
Well, actually. Now that I think about it. I did have to sign something similar to that. Sure it wasn't as detailed and it was pretty vague but it's not like I can have that type of argument in a courtroom. It definitely wouldn't win the case if I wanted to sue. Which means it's invalid in theory.
Great. I should have read the darn fine print.
I need to make sure I don't suddenly start flying in front of people. It's going to be hard to explain everything and it's a discussion I'd rather avoid. Hopefully, I don't grow wings like a bird. At that point, I won't even be able to come up with some feeble excuse.
I've come to the conclusion that if I don't think about the fact that I'm flying or if I get distracted, I just won't fly. So far, it's been working nicely. I'm sure any moment something horrible will happen but I will savor these moments of peace.
"Get me two granola bars and apples," Jeff yelled when I was about to get into the car. I flinched at his tone and nodded my head, getting him the food.
The car ride was extremely awkward. Unlike, all the other times, Jeff didn't put on any music. He didn't say anything and looked over at me with the corners of his eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. Did he know I can fly? Now that's a funny thought. I slouched in the leather seat, trying to hide myself from view. I fiddled with the apples and granola bars as we drove in the deafening silence.
When we got to school, he rushed out. He didn't even take the snacks. What's that about? With a shrug, I slipped it into my backpack. I noticed that I didn't pack any snacks and that him being forgetful wasn't too bad for my case.
☫ * ☫ * ☫ * ☫
The second time I entered Dr. Robertson's lab, I felt more familiar with it. Dr. Robertson eyes me, curiously as I fumbled with everything, continuously bit my lips and dropping half of his supplies. He gave me a pointed look when my emotions mirrored my actions and my nerves irked me. To put it quite simply, I was being clumsy.
"Jeremiah," he spoke casually while writing things down. His eyes were covered with goggles, not giving me a view of how they were on the verge of glaring at me. "If today's a bad day you can leave early."
I quickly stammered a reply. "I-It's not that," I said and fiddled with my fingers. "You know, it's j-just school and things..."
Things? Oh, do you need me to be more specific, Dr. Robertson? Let's just say your radioactive bird messed me up. I can fly now. I might just grow wings. Did I mention that I'm scared of heights? Petrified really. I have a feeling that if I tell him that it's not going to end so well.
Dr. Robertson nodded in understanding, accepting my explanation and called me over to observe his work. I scratched the back of my neck as he showed me the dead bird. He handed me gloves and began talking about why it failed.
"The frail body of the bird couldn't handle a number of chemicals at once," Dr. Robertson said with knitted eyebrows. "At first, she was fine. Once the drug ran through her system it was too much. This would probably be too much for anyone, even humans, though I can't be sure."
"Hypothetically?" I asked, losing my stutter and then cleared my throat. "If someone were to obtain the drug themselves but through a second-hand method they wouldn't necessarily end up like this bird?"
"The drug isn't meant for humans." He covered the bird. "But in theory —yes. They would be fine in the sense that death wouldn't be a symptom. I can't be sure of what exactly would happen. They might experience more abnormal effects."
"Right," I agreed.
More abnormal effects? Seems just about right.
☫ * ☫ * ☫ * ☫
My backpack was more than soaked when I opened the door to my grandparent's house. I tried my hardest not to get anything wet, but that was slightly difficult to do when I was completely drenched in rain. Having to run home in the rain wasn't too fun. Especially when these peculiar abilities began acting up.
I found out that I shouldn't be running because that just sets my powers on. And so in consequence to that, I flew in the rain. Luckily, there was no one outside. It wasn't exciting. In fact, I was panicked for the most part. I kept going higher and higher, the ground getting farther and farther.
My stomach dropped when I abruptly landed on someone's roof. I was half grateful that I was no longer in the air and at the same time, I was scared. Apparently, it made a big impact to land on the roof so randomly. An old woman ran out of the house, yelling at me to get off her roof. And who was I not to oblige? I wanted to get off as well. I swallowed in some air as the rain crashed down on me.
"I'm going to call the police!" She screamed.
After hearing that threat, I immediately jumped off her roof, hoping that I wouldn't break something. I landed on the ground, not noticing how much I broke the pavement.
"I'm r-really sorry," I apologized and bit back a grin when I realized that I wasn't injured.
Fortunately, nothing else happened and I eventually I made it home. I hurriedly took my textbooks out of my backpack, letting them dry. I settled in the kitchen, sitting on a wooden chair by the table. I slid my shoes off and shook my head.
"You're getting the house all wet," Grandma said with a click of her tongue.
I shivered when my wet clothes stuck onto my skin. "Sorry, 'bout t-that."
"Clean it up." She went over to the cupboard and gave me the mop. "You mine as well clean the whole kitchen." She glanced at the sink where a pile of dishes was stacked.
"Right," I replied through gritted teeth and took the mop.
With pursed lips, I mopped the kitchen floors and washed the dishes. I wiped the counters and then gathered my things. After a quick shower, I went to my room.
I know I went with the idea that all of this flying and gravity thing was occurring because I was bitten by a radioactive bird. Dr. Robertson practically confirmed it but I want to be sure. Just in case, I want to look it up.
I dried my hair with a towel and slid onto the computer chair, almost losing my balance. I turned my computer on and began rapidly typing a question on Yahoo Answers. "Why am I flying?" I read out loud as I spelled it out on the keyboard.
Of course, I knew that I wouldn't get a definite answer and that it would be unlikely for any answer to fit my exact description. But maybe I'd get something close. I suspect that I'll get something completely different as well. It's a matter of luck in this case. This can go either way.
"Why am I afraid of heights, but enjoy flying...?" I read the first suggested question. "Well, I can't say the same," I muttered lowly and scrolled through the page while biting my thumbnail. "Flying is not enjoyable."
Maybe I should try wording this differently, without actually mentioning my powers. I cracked my knuckles and then did the same to my neck. I know what to write. Why do I feel like I'm floating? Strictly speaking, I didn't actually mention my powers. Thus, I should get more realistic answers.
I rolled my eyes as I looked at the recommended answers and questions. It mentioned drugs and pregnancy. I'm not doing drugs and I'm definitely not pregnant so there's that. I continued writing down my symptoms in the most normal ways I could manage to think of.
"Did you--," Jeff yelled as he barged into my room but then cut himself off. With a jerk of my knees, I banged them against the desk, completely startled. "What is that?" He pointed at the screen, his mouth apart with shock.
"W-what?" I furrowed my eyebrows and turned my attention to the computer. I smacked my lips together, holding back a groan when I noticed there was an inappropriate pop-up advertisement. "It's n-not what you think! It's just one of those pop ups! I s-swear."
He gave me a look of disbelief, evidently not giving into my honest reply. I quickly deleted the page and showed him the Yahoo tab. "S-see," I said. "I was just looking stuff u-up."
His eyes narrowed both at me and then the screen. Jeff examined it and looked down at me. I felt myself shrink against his gaze. "You feel like this?" He questioned me with a glare. I gulped and shook my head.
"No." I lied and waved my hands around in reassurance. "I-It's for a project."
I frowned when I saw a spark of relief wash over his features. I don't understand him. One second he's screaming at me the next he decides to interrogate how I feel. It's too confusing.
"Okay then," he grunted, back to his usual self.
"What d-did you want?" I asked with a tilt of my head.
He ignored me and walked out of the room, leaving me with a headache and perplexed. I dropped my head onto my desk with agitation. "Ugh,"I grumbled. "What's wrong with everyone in this house?"
________________________________________
A/N
Heyyyy humans!
Okay but like after this I can like introduce some action and I'm soooo ready! *fist pumps the air*
Jeff is just --yeah he's just 'just'. What're your theories on his bipolar tendencies and his personality? ;-)
And Dr. Robertson? What do u think? I like the guy ^_^
Jeremiah's life is very stressful for me to write sometimes bec as a person who is scared of heights it gives me anxiety to imagine him flying bec i know he's mortified over the thought as well. Like same, Jeremiah, same. >.<
Ahaha but sidenote, his powers are growing and he's realizing shiz so you know what that means!!! XD
Thank u all so much for reading and I hope you vote and comment on the chapt! Now I'll just go cry over a Pre-calc test I'm supposed to be studying for.
P.S: if you have any tips, ideas, suggestions please pm me, that would be awesome. Any idea is good because I could just base a chapter off of it and update quicker ;-). So if there's a certain thing that you want to happen just comment it!
Love ya'll <3
Yours truly,
A N O N Y M O U S