Chapter 7
My brother, the muscle-bound rugby player, centred between the ground and ceiling, as if by wires. His unconscious body rotating gently. Can this be another one of my dream, a waking hallucination of sorts, bleeding into reality? A fret only made more real when I catch sight of his eyes; they’re pure white, matching those of TJ’s and the other me.
Who or what could have done this? For I can see a struggle has taken place here. Everything that is not fixed down has either been pushed or thrown away from the circle Matthew occupies. Even his bed, which is normally centred within the room, is at an angle, having been moved with such a force it’s dented the wall.
“Matthew!” I cry. But he doesn’t move, not even the slightest twitch can be seen at the sound of my voice.
Standing back helpless, I wonder what Matthew would do had he come across this situation. I know for sure he’d have figured it all out by now, or at least tried to do something. And before I can even think, I feel a quick burst of energy rush to my legs, propelling me towards him. Arms out, I’m just about to make contact when I feel a pulsating sensation irradiate from his skin, resulting in a blinding light exploding right before my eyes, sending my limp body crashing through the door and back out into the hallway.
Dazed, I lay staring up at the ceiling, as I do after waking from most night terrors, only this time I’ve not awoken in my bed, this time, I remain in the nightmare. If only I could tag someone else in, let them take over and save the day, but the only person I can think of is in that room, suspended in mid-air. “Keep it together Mitchell,” I mumble.
One. Two. Three. Each breath lifts me further back to my feet, and like walking the swaying hallways of an attraction at a funfair, I slowly make my way back towards the buckled door, using the walls to steadily myself. Only to be stopped in my tracks by a shimmering light that shines through the cracks, causing pain to my already delicate head by the sheer brightness it expels.
Now would be the time to run, to dive under my duvet in a hope it’ll all work out for the best, but I already know I wouldn’t or couldn’t do that to Matthew. He needs me, and I’m his only hope.
Now spinning at a much faster speed, Matthew, lit up like a lighthouse, turns as if he’s caught in an invisible vortex. Nothing more than an animal trapped by yellow and white lights that swirl around his caged body, battling each other in waves that crackle when they meet and send out sparks, mimicking that of a firework. And as if it’s aware of my presence, the lights begin to work together, congregating toward me in a mix that turns his body into a glimmering gold, forcing me back against the wall by an unseen barrier. “Matthew!” I cry, for his body to respond in a quick convulsion as if on some level he’s heard me. “Matthew!?” I call again.
Now thrashing in the air, fitting within the glowing cyclone he’s created, Matthew’s body begins to send out bolts of light, small bullets that explode on touch and send out small shockwave throughout his room. Missing me by inches, I dive under the overturned desk, narrowly avoiding a lamp that is thrown my way in the chaos and shatters into pieces as it slams against the wall.
“Matthew, listen to me! You have to stop this!”
But my pleas go unheard as he continues to rotate, only with much more power than before, generating a windstorm that lifts anything that’s not tied down – myself included. Pinned to the wall, any attempt to move would be pointless under the crushing force, leaving me to watch helplessly as Matthew becomes a golden ball of light, mirroring the sun itself, before shattering into pieces that fire out in all directions.
I awake to a loud ringing resounding in my ears, disorientated, but free to move again on Matthew’s bedroom floor. The room itself is a tip, everything that was once in the air, lifted by an invisible force is now scattered across the ground, either damaged or broken. And amidst the destruction sits a hunched, but conscious Matthew. “What… what happen?” he asks, scanning the room.
“You don’t remember?” I ask, lifting my bruised body.
His eyes dart from left to right, taking in every inch of the mess before him. “This was me?”
I nod.
“Your voice,” he says like he’s just had an idea. “I could hear it. I knew you were there, but I couldn’t move or make a sound.”
I crawl towards him, wincing in pain. “It’s over now,” I assure. “Whatever that was, it’s done. Finished.”
Pulling his bed back toward the centre, Matthew leans back and stretches into the mattress. “I knew something was wrong,” he says, looking up to the ceiling. “For weeks now I haven’t felt myself,” – lifting his head, he looks directly at me – “but I thought it was nothing serious, maybe just the flu, ya know?”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, spoken as if they were to come from my own mouth.
“Today it peaked,” he adds. “I felt so ill; tired and sick. It was unbearable to the point I had to come home. And you know I’m not one to fuss over a simple illness, it’s just not my style.”
With my stomach in knots, I rush to the window for some air, panting as I desperately grasp the handle to open it, only to be met by a shadowed figure stood in our garden staring up at me. Leaping back, I wrap the curtain around myself to hide. “What are you doing?” asks Matthew.
“Outside,” I gasp. “Someone’s out there!”
Joining me by the window, Matthew leans his head out. “Where?” he asks.
“By the garden gate!” I shoot back, trying to subdue my frantic mind. Could this be the culprit causing all this? My dreams, hallucinations, and now whatever’s happening to Matthew. If only I’d listened to the dark haired girl – that’s if she even exists.
“There’s no one there Mitchell.”
“What!?” I grunt, barging him out the way to get a better look. He’s right. The garden is empty, aside from the swing set. “But… I saw someone.” I can see them now, the outline of a person stood in our garden staring up at the window, someone I’ve never seen before. It’s engrained in my memory, yet once again I cannot be sure if my mind is being truthful. My mind really does has a mind of its own.
“Chill out,” he urges, returning to the bed. “It was probably just some homeless guy.”
“You’re right,” I reply, still grasping the curtain tightly. “Just some random.”
“Right. Now back to the real problem here.” Groans Matthew, throwing his hands out as if to display a prize on a game show. “What mum’s gonna say when she sees this place!”
Helping push the computer desk back to its original location, I can’t help shake this terrible feeling that someone is watching us, the same someone that knows or is the cause of our problems. Suddenly there’s a crash, causing me to leap from my skin as I hurry around to find Matthew stood before me with a pile of books at his feet. “Can’t you be a bit more careful?” I fume.
But he doesn’t answer. Instead, his eyes talk for him, he’s scared.
“What!?” I frantically ask.
“You’re glowing. Mitchell! You’re glowing!” he cries.
Pulsating with an orange hue, I stumble back, brushing my arms in a hopeless attempt to rid my skin of this unnatural burnt effect.
“Mitchell!?”
With an overwhelming heat now radiating from the orange waves, I slam into the computer desk, using it as a support. Upon me in seconds, Matthew grabs hold of my arm, only to recoil and yell out in pain. “You burnt me!” he cries.
Smoke now raising from my hands, and nostrils hit with the scent of smouldering wood, I step back from the desk, leaving two blackened prints in my wake. A dream! I tell myself over and over in my head. Surely this has to be one. One. Two. Three. But I remain within his room. I breathe again. One. Two. Three. Only for the last of my hopes to be dashed. This is real. All of it.
“What do I do!?” yells Matthew, before bolting from the room with no explanation.
He left me! Something I’d never have thought of him. From a young age, he was always
the guy to save the day, there was nothing he couldn’t tackle. He was brave. Not this coward. But before I can dismiss him completely, he’s back in a flash and without warning, he throws a tub of water over me. Bracing myself, I await the coldness to cascade my skin, only to feel nothing, not even a single drop was able to penetrate the mass of heat I’m throwing out.
Already I know what’s next, what’s to come, but it doesn’t make it any less terrify when my body erupts in an orange and blue flame. Now encased in an inferno, I know there’s no hope for me, and as the fiery burn accumulates in my centre, a resulting surge of power that is released in a shockwave pins Matthew to the wall.
Darkness follows, seeping into the room, crawling towards its target, me. And as it infects every inch of my body, I’m left with a sense of calm. All sound lowers to a mere whisper, and all colour is sapped away by black, diminishing any distracted. And it’s now that I can truly see the beauty of the flame and its raw power. A power I’ve created. A power that is mine.
Ripped away from the intense connect I share with my creation, I find my brother, terrified and alone, cowering in the corner of his room. He must be shouting, his mouth is open but I cannot hear his words. Smiling down at him, I relish in the thought of this creature I’ve captured and laugh. “Pitiful human!”
Raising my hands out to the middle, the blue of the flames runs down my arms, building a ball of raw power in my palms. I look to Matthew, narrowing my eyes at him and grin, exposing my teeth. He continues to fight me, pushing against the wall as he tries to free himself. Shaking my head, I simply tut. “Fool!”
Finally, it’s time to show him what I can do, no longer shall I live in his shadow, subdued by his light, and no longer shall he live… period.
Taking a step closer, I’m caught off guard by the reflection a slanted mirror portrays to me. A pair of white eyes shine brightly atop an eerie grin, and instantly I’m taken back to the night I dreamt of Shellbourne in ruins. I see it all, the crowd of people screaming, buildings turned to nothing more than rubble, even TJ.
Suddenly the room around me erupts into chaos and I’m deafened by the sound of loose objects crashing to the floor. Matthew, still pinned to the corner, calls my name again and again, but I cannot answer him. Even if I could, what would I say?
Slowly everything begins to fade away, and I take one final look at Matthew and mouth the words “I’m sorry,” in hope he was able to see it, before becoming trapped in a darkness once more.
Half-Breed Page 7