The Super 4 : Dark Death

by Harrison Wallace

  Harrison

  XXV

  Okay, school sucks. Agreed? I just wanted to get that clear. I know most people are giddy with excitement, because of how close summer is, but all I can think about, is how we still have school. And while other people might love not do anything all day, I have issues with boredom.

  During lessons, I can pay attention, because the teacher’s voice just invades any thoughts about sleep. So, instead of blissful sleep, I had to suffer through Mr. Murph yakking away about the, oh-so exciting, different ways to use a comma.

  Even Carly and Darryl find her boring. And they’re like, up there! But I’m an average kid, so while I don’t hate tests, you won’t find me in the More Tests! line. Nope, not over here.

  And in my opinion, how will knowing about photosynthesis or the life of a dead president, help me in my life? It’s crazy! Pure and simple insanity! Pure, and simple.

  Anyway, back to my point; school sucks! You might say I’m over-exaggerating, but do you honestly like school? Do you just love waking up early, catching the bus and then having to race to your class with a five-pound bag? Do you? Do you really? No, I didn’t think so!

  Urgh! All this talk about school is making me fell sick. Literally. My stomach was queasy!

  I raced down the stairs, yelling a ‘See you later’ to mum. I ran to the tree house. I flew over the wall.

  But instead of getting back on ground, I just stayed there, floating around.

  You never get over the thrill of lying. Ever. I might’ve acted like it was nothing, but I’ve always wanted to fly. I loved the idea of just floating around, in the endless sky, no worries about anything, not a care in the world. Just empty sky.

  I finally touched down on the roof of the tree house about ten minutes later. I melted and slid down the sides. I reformed when I got to the ground. Brushing dirt of me, I walked around the circumference of the area.

  Just like flying, you can never get used to powers. I admired my work, yet I still had trouble believing whether or not I’m dreaming. Maybe it’s all fake and I’m snoring in Madame Belle’s classroom. Who knows? Who knows?

  I walked around before finally retreating back in the tree house. It started raining right after I had gotten myself a bowl of ice cream. I looked at my unsuitable meal and shrugged. Who cares?

  I created a hovering fire in the seating area, and turned on the TV. I skipped past news and music, finally landed on a channel with Total Wipeout!

  I settled back and started scooping ice cream in to my mouth. A lightning bolt arced outside. I ignored it and focused on the TV.

  I had missed the first round, and was now halfway into the second round. The Sweeper!

  I laughed as a guy tried to jump over the sweeper. He failed miserably, and was whacked into the water. He emerged moments later, swimming to the ladder for try number two.

  I laughed as more famous people got whacked into the water. This was hilarious!

  Another bolt of lightning came arcing down. This one, closer to the tree house than the others. But just then the tenth person made it across The Sweeper. I groaned. The person I was rooting for didn’t make it.

  My phone rang. I picked it up with my eyes still glued to the screen.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Harrison?” asked mum’s voice.

  “Yeah mum?”

  “Come home, okay?” she told me. “This storm is terrible!”

  “Okay, I’m on my way,” I told her.

  “And you better not be in that tree house!” she warned.

  “Uh… okay?” I said, avoiding giving her a straight answer.

  “Harrison,” she said, in a low warning voice.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’m in the tree house!”

  “How could you?” she asked. “It’s raining!”

  “It wasn’t raining when I got here,” I pointed out.

  “There were storm clouds everywhere!” she replied.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s gonna rain!”

  “Urgh!!!” she growled furiously, “Just hurry home.”

  “Okay,” I replied, “Bye, love you.”

  “Love you too.” she responded. “Now hurry!”

  Sighing, I placed my bowl in the dishwasher, and flew out of the tree house. I wielded a shield of fire over my head. It worked wonders. All the water evaporated on touch.

  I increased the heat of the flames. It had a blue tinge to it. I was so surprised by the colour, that I dropped the shield. I was soaking wet in a few seconds, but I didn’t care. This was a breakthrough!

  I remade my fire shield, and made a fire sword. I increased the heat of the flames. So far, they were all red, orange and yellow, but a couple of them had a blue tinge. I ran home, suddenly remembering mum’s growl.

  The guards opened the gate. I raced up the steps to the front door, and knocked hurriedly. Hopping from one foot to the other. My butler opened the door.

  “Good day, Mr Har-” he began.

  “S’up Tommy!” I interrupted. “Where’s my mother?”

  “I believe your mother is currently in the dining hall. Would you like me to accompany you there?”

  “No thanks, Tommy,” I replied. “I’ll get there fine on my own.”

  “Very good sir.”

  I fast-walked towards the dining room. Mum was seated eating a scone.

  “Hey mum.” I said.

  She nodded at me, her mouth to full of scone to talk. I smiled and took a seat at the long table.

  “What’s for dinner?” I asked.

  “Mmhmm.” she mumbled, incomprehensibly. She swallowed. “We’re going out to Le Restaurant de la Brique Rouge!” It took my french translator a while to figure that out.

  “The Red… Brick Restaurant?” I asked, uncertainly. Mum nodded yes. I smiled. “Is there any special occasion?”

  “Some political meeting. Dad stuff.” Mum said. I nodded my understanding.

  “So,” I said, “When do we leave?”

  “In a couple of minutes.” said mum. “So go get ready.”

  I took the elevator up to my room. Once there, I peeled off my wet jacket and socks. I hurriedly changed into a suitable attire of dark jeans, a white shirt and black Nikes.

  I finally decided to leave my aviator sun glasses. This was business, not a teen magazine, I told myself, as I took the elevator to the ground floor. Mum was all dressed up, wearing a red, short-sleeved dress, that came up to her knees. Her hair was all curly and loopy. She was wearing black high heels, which made her a few inches taller. It also made me a few inches shorter.

  “Let’s go.” Mumsaid.

  “Okay.” I guessed this was an important person. Mum was just short of sweating. The chauffeur opened the door to the limo and we took a seat.

  Mum looked all around, nervously and kept tapping her fingers against her knee.

  Must be some guy, if he can make the president’s wife nervous, I thought. Who would be able to do that? The queen of England? I didn’t know. A mass murderer? Maybe. But he has got to be intimidating.

  I couldn’t of been more wrong.