King Chronicles Episode One

                    EPISODE I      PART I

    Waiting outside the cafe, just praying he’ll keep his word and show up. Hope beyond hope. Worrying enough to make me nauseous. Worried not that he may find out what I am,what I’m capable of. if he knew,I’d never see him again. No dates, not at school. Even though I’m a punk, he thinks I’m pretty, but then looks don’t cover sins.
    It’s a warm afternoon, but of course I’m in black. He’s in tight jeans and a blue t-shirt that shows off his perfect six-pack.
    “Hey, Alexis,” he says, his green eyes not shining like usual, they look almost sad, regretful, maybe.
    “Hi, Matthew,” now I’m getting uneasy. “What’s he up to?” My defense system is kicking in.
    He sits down and orders us two milkshakes. For a few minutes everything seems fine. We talk about school and Mr. Gates history test the next day. Matthew has to study tonight and asked if I’d help.
    “Sure, but I thought you were doing fine in history.”
    “Nope, I need a B or I’ll fail the class. Nobody wants to retake history, especially if that bat is teaching. Gates is brutal.”
    “Agreed. And we graduate next year. Fail a course and it’s summer class make-up,” i told him.
    He nodded, and then we fell into that uncomfortable silence that often accompanies these situations. That’s when Matthew did something strange, he started whistling “The Star-Spangled Banner”. I thought it odd 'til I heard someone behind me.
    I didn’t move fast enough. A gallon of red paint was thrown at me. From the back of my head down, I was stained in the bloody color.
    The culprit was Lisa, cheer captain. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, ignorant, arrogant bimbo. She was laughing, like the witch she was, her crones were joining in with her. I couldn’t help but notice that both had a gallon from Sherwin William's for me.
    “Do it!” Lisa ordered betwixt her laughter.
    My anger got the best of me. I could feel my paint clotted hair flare and ripple, as though a stiff breeze blew past. The trees and table clothes didn’t move, just my raven hair.
    “STOP!!!” I shouted.
    At the time, I didn’t know how I did it. I wanted to get them. I felt this strange, but powerful emotion grab me. In the blink of and eye the paint cans were ripped from the perfect cheerleaders’ hands. The thick paint erupted from the cans and sprayed Lisa, Kari, Michelle, and Matthew. No other people were sprayed, no cafe patrons, no bystanders. Just those four covered in there own idea. Doused in the paint intended for me.
Just as suddenly, as unexpectedly, as the cans took flight, they clattered to the cobble stoned ground. Lisa and the girls screamed in fright. Matthew was stone shocked his face had no expression. He took a few steps back and regained some normal color in his face.
    “What the hell was that?! You -- you’re crazy! Stay back!!”
    Then all of them did the typical, they ran like bats out of... well you get the idea. They ran away leaving me to the stares and whispers of the cafe patrons.

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                        PART II

    I went straight home, taking every back alley and side street I could think of. All the dark back passages that no one ever bothered to notice, all the hidden pathways of the city that were only available and used by the kind of people like me. I used every dirty alley I could to avoid the eyes of the cold hearted person, the questions of why.
    I entered my house through the back door, I didn’t want to talk to my old man, the drunken parasite.
    I went upstairs to get the paint out of my hair. I stripped put of my ruined black hoody and jeans. I plopped them unceremoniously into the sink for easy clean up. After making sure the door was locked, I turned on the hot water to the shower, letting the steam cloud the room. After allowing the cold water to make the heat more temperate, I stood in the tub and slid the door. I let the heat and water wash over me, removing the drying paint. I ran my fingers through my hair to help the red on it’s way. The water was running red in the strong color. The longer I washed the more faded the water became. From red to pink to clear.
    I remember trying to make the shampoo bottle move. I wanted to see if the cafe fiasco was a fluke. I almost didn’t want it to be, but I was afraid of the out come if it was true. The bottle only moved if I picked it up, kind of a relief.
    As I turned off the water, I could hear my old man shouting and beating a large fist on the door. He was going on about the water bill and how much I was wasting, et cetera et cetera.
    “Yeah, yeah. I’m done, Pops,” I yell. Not like he showers often anyway. We’d have more money if he didn't drink so much of it. I unlocked the bathroom door, releasing the hot cloud of steam into the hall and my father’s face. His already red face grew a shade or two deeper in annoyance.
    “Did you hear me?” he demanded.
    “How could I not, Pops? Excuse me, I got homework to do,” I told him. He stepped to the side and let me pass. I went to the kitchen to toss my clothes and grab a bite before heading off to my little sanctuary. I locked that door, too. My room is a bit messy, not as bad as the rest of the house though. Just some dirty clothes in the corner and over turned shoes. My back pack dumped near the door. Posters of my favorite bands on the walls, poetry and angst all over in ink.
    This is the setting where I reflected on how my life got so incredibly messed up. I guess it started four years ago. Our family was fine, just Pops, Mom, and me. Back then, Mom was pregnant. She suffered a miscarriage and died do the complications. The baby was lost, Mom was lost, and Pops lost it. He couldn’t handle the death of my mother so he turned to alcohol. He went easy at first, beer and lots of it. When it didn’t dull the pain as well anymore, Pops moved on to the harder crap. Glenn Livid scotch when he could get it. Jack Daniel's and Southern Comfort were more readily available. The usual was the cheap rye that long haul drunks get used to. Pops rarely got violent when he drank, but recently he’s gotten worse. Three days prior, he put a cigarette out out on my left arm. He told me it was punishment for my back talk.
    When Mom died, we fell apart. I became a punk and a rebel without a clue. I didn’t do drugs, I’ve seen the effects and have no need for that. Sometimes, I do steal a few smokes from my old man. My life became a shambles, then one day Pops helped change me. In a drunken madness, he came after me and tried to hit me. I became angry and wanted a baseball bat, or anything to fend him off. I don’t think he remembers the booze bottle that knocked him cold. I didn’t know how I did it, but I knew I was responsible.
    That night in my room, I tried to move different things. A lamp, a shoe, soda bottle, a cd, anything. Nothing happened. Nothing! I knew I was capable of tele kinetics because on two occasions I moved objects. I knocked out my old man and defied the gravity of paint cans. I was curious.
    “Concentrate!” I told myself, “Just concentrate.”
    I stared at a pen that was on my floor. I guessed that I might be starting wrong, go smaller. I got to my knees and willed the Bic to roll over, concentrating so hard I could feel a headache coming on. To my great surprise the pen obeyed me and rolled to the edge of my bed where it stopped.
    After the earlier events that day plus the experimentation in my room, I was exhausted and now suffering a migraine. I proved, however, that I can indeed move objects with a thought. All that was left was to gain control over this power. Harness it. I am telekinetic. I am a punk. I am Alexis King.

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                        PART III
   
    Everyday, before and after school, weekends, far into the night. I wouldn’t sleep till near dawn, if then. Instead of running and being afraid of it, I embraced my power. I trained and practiced to the point of migraine, but I had a goal. I had to master my power, gain control over it. I had plans. That’s right, predictable though it is, I wanted revenge. I wanted to get back at Lisa and Matthew for their little paint stunt. Over the last few weeks, they pulled every prank and stunt they could think of. I found a dead rat in my locker, I was hit with a basketball in gym, mashed potatoes and other foods were thrown at me during lunch. They tagged my locker with words like “b***h”, “goth”, “freak”, “loser”, and the various such like.
    Never once did I lose my temper, nor reveal how far I had come to conquering my gift and their curse. I continued to practice and plan and wait. I gave small hints for my own enjoyment.     I used my power to flare up Lisa’s skirt to reveal oops! no panties. She turned bright and red and laughed off the embarrassment thinking it was the breeze during the lunch period. That’s what she gets for a quickie with Matthew in the boy’s bathroom.
    I had been more rough with Matthew. During a break in classes, I kept closing his locker. He’d have to reenter his combo and I kept closing it. The last time I made sure it was open enough not to latch. When he reached to open it again, I flung it open with a great deal of force and cracked Matthew in the head. He now has a scar jutting through his right eyebrow.
    I left Michelle and Kari alone. They were just misguided and following orders. Stupid but true.
    My grand plan was approaching, I had to be prepared. It would come to pass at the Fall Ball, Halloween night.
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                       PART IV

    October 31, the fateful day. I had been working up to this point for two months, my ultimate revenge and their ultimate embarrassment. I had helped out during the decorations in the gym, so I had the perfect opportunity to leave a few extra balloons. I placed a few full of black dye near the stage and over the dance hall. The stage also had a few balloons filled with paint, red. The black was for shame and guilt they should have felt, the red was to remember me by. The final kick in the butt was the grand “unveiling”.
    I waited till the end of the Ball. The most important setting being this, the crowning of the Goblin King and Queen. (Imaginative, I know.) Surprise, surprise the cheer captain and the football captain got the crown. Matthew was dressed as Zorro and Lisa came as Princess Leia, complete with the white dress. They graciously accepted their grotesque crowns, and glided to the dance floor. I don’t remember the song.
    The dance floor was empty except for those two, whirling and twirling in the disco ball light, they were totally enjoying the moment. They didn’t suspect a thing. My moment of repayment had come. My waiting was over, my chance to show them. I went to all the work of training myself, I hid the contraband balloons... and I didn’t have the heart to to drop the dye or paint. I had a sudden attack of conscience.
    However, my conscience would condone the “unveiling”. I concentrated on the pair, my eyes followed their every step and rotation. The flowing of Zorro’s cape, the gentle flow of Leia’s dress. How lovely they looked, at least for the next few seconds.
    I used my power to turn the costumes to rags, I shredded them completely. Neither of them expected this. And the entire school saw everything. Matthew was reduced to black silky boxers, quite nice. Lisa was left with nothing , but a soft pink bra and her thong. The whole assembly burst into laughter. The eruption was perfect and louder than the band.
    The red paint wasn’t needed. The royal pair were already that shape from head to toe. The embarrassment was complete. Humiliated! That’s what I wanted. For them to be utterly humiliated and left to the eyes of an unforgiving crowd, like I was. It’  is true what they say about revenge, it is best served cold. However, revenge doesn’t bring closure nor does it bear happiness.
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                        PART V                   
                                    
    Though I did get a wicked satisfaction from this night, the biggest thrill was that I had used my powers. No one caught on, no one noticed, no one knew. Exactly how I wanted it.
    Walking home that night, I had a long time to think things over. So many questions went barreling through my head. “What do I do now? How do I use this power? Should I just forget that I have it?”
    I could think of no one to consult. I certainly wasn’t about to ask Pops for help. Booze lush was passed out in his chair when I came in that night. Usual position of his head tilted back and mouth open. His breath reeked of cheap rye.
    I left Pops there and crept to my room, making not a sound. I turned on the radio and let the latest System of a Down cd wash over me. Walking in the dark, I crashed onto my bed and allowed my self to get dragged into the beat of the music. I let my mind wander and get lost within itself. Music always seemed to help.
    I wondered about my future. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that this was a gift, but a dangerous one. If i wasn’t careful my gift could become a curse. These are weighty thoughts with heavier responsibilities. How should I use this power?
    I got my answer a week later.
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                         PART VI

    “I know you did it, Alexis!” Lisa shouted, “I just don’t know how!”
    Lisa had come to school on Friday with a chip on her shoulder bigger that Atlanta and a wicked temper to compliment. She had endured the laughs for about have of homeroom and then came after me, simply to punish some one any one she didn’t care.
    “Oh, sure! I cut up your pretty little princess outfit without giving you a scratch!” I countered. “What do you care? It’s not like the entire football team doesn’t know you like thongs over bikini’s anyway.”
    That comment got some scattered laughter.
    “How did you do it, Queen Gothica?”
    “Queen Gothica?” She couldn’t tell the difference between a goth and a puck like me to save her life.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered.
    That’s when she did something rather unexpected, Lisa pulled back her hand and sent it sailing toward my left cheek. I ducked and saved my face from a nasty sting. Lisa wasn’t so lucky, she had a lot of speed behind her hand. The beautifully manicured palm slammed roughly onto my locker with all the force and anger she had right behind it. She yelped in pain on impact.
    She cradled her hand and cried in pain. I felt no sympathy.
    “Aw, poor cheerleader. Did you hurt your little hand?”she looked at me in agony, her hand already swelling
    “Next time, don’t miss!” I backhanded her hard across her porcelain face when I said ‘miss’. “Don’t ever come near me again, Bimbo!”
    She spun slightly at the force of my hand. She was crying and I didn't care. I wasn’t about to wait for the principal to deliver his punishment, which was going to happen anyway. since it was Friday, I decided to get a head start on the weekend. I skipped out on the last half of classes, and headed towards the downtown mall.
    I have only one good friend. He’s a geek, I guess. He has wavy brown hair and gentle gray eyes hidden partially behind horn-rimmed glasses, kind of cute, I guess. He’s never said a harsh word to me. He even had programmed his own first person shooter. He’d played hours of Everquest, World of Warcraft, Halo 2, and numerous others. His pc and X Box are his best friend and girl friend.
    Besides being incredibly smart, he’s very sweet.
    “David! Shouldn’t you be in biology?” I asked, shocked to him outside of class.
    “Nope, that’s sixth period,” he glanced at his watch,”now i should be in calculus,” he said with a crooked grin, “what about you?”
    “Took the afternoon off,” I answered.
    “I saw the Fall Ball fiasco. Wonder how that happened. Though I can’t say they didn’t deserve it.”
    I knew he was fishing. He was choosing his words carefully, and weighing what to ask next. That just wasn’t David. I knew he’d never betray a secret with me, he hadn’t yet so I had every confidence that i could trust him again.
    “Come with me, David. I’ve got to show you something,” i told him.
    Without question, he came with me to the roof of an abandoned apartment building. It was in the bad side of town and was covered in graffiti. Various street gangs had tagged it as their property over the years. Teens had vandalized it with obscene messages. Windows were boarded up, some of the boards were split by people getting in to do their drugs. Pigeons had made this run down building a haven for their young.
    Some of the bricks near the roof were starting to crumble from time and the elements. Once upon a time, this had been a great apartment, with glamourous tenants, but no more. Now crack addicts came here to get high. Homeless people would stay here to get out of the cold. Now that winter was approaching, more homeless were occupying the first floor.
   Our destination was the top floor, penthouse on the tenth. Only the best. The crack heads and homeless stayed nearer to the ground for a quick escape from the cops. We’d be left alone up here. To avoid the mess inside, we opted for the incredibly sturdy fire escape. Good exercise at ten flights.
    “I know you’ve been thinking. What are your suspensions about me, my intellectual friend?”
    He didn’t answer right away. He sat on the window sill and tugged at his left ear, his habit when he was pondering something. His gray eyes where electric when he looked up at me and answered that loaded question.
    “I’m not exactly sure how, but I suspect you were responsible for the fun at the Fall Ball. did you know that I helped with the decorations? I discovered several balloons with what i have found to be red and black paint. I’m fairly sure it was from you. don’t worry I disposed of the evidence,” his grin was back, “why don’t you tell me how you did it? You get to their costumes and slice them up? Then attach a few wires?”
    “David, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I paused, wondering how to continue.
    “Try me,” he said, crossing his arms.
    “All right, I’m telekinetic,” get it over with fast.
    The look on his face told me that he didn’t believe a word I’d just said. Always thinking like a scientist.
    “Come on, David, I need you to believe me. Here I’ll show you.”
    I took his back pack and pulled out the heavy calculus book and placed it at his feet. I stared at it, used my hand to help me guide it. despite what you may think, extending the hand actually helps me focus on the object. The book levitated and hovered inches from of his nose. His gray eyes became confused question marks. I lowered the book to the ground again. David just stood there.
    “You see? I’ve been practicing, I have the gift of moving objects!”
    “Not possible!” his voice was shaky, he was shaking his head as if to rattle this thought from his brain. “How- When- If you- Huh?”
    “Can’t finish a sentence, can you?” I laughed at him, “let me start from the beginning.”
    I gave him the entire history, from the cafe on.
    When I had finished, he looked solemn and stared at the dusty floor. Then he spoke, in a quiet voice that sounded hurt, or betrayed.
    “You used this gift to hurt people,’ he said kind of shocked.
    I didn’t offer a rebuttal, I knew he was right. I had hurt Lisa emotionally, and Matthew now has a scar that cuts through his eyebrow from me. It wasn’t fair of me and david was right.
    “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. What do I do with this?” I asked with all sincerity.
    “I don’t know, Alexis. I really don’t, wish I did,” he sighed. “But until we come up with something, can you do it again?”
    I laughed to see the scientist in him kick in. For an hour or so, I showed David that I could move up too 150 pounds, namely david and his back pack. I can juggle several things at once. Both of us were enjoying my gift and each others company. Until david glanced at his watch.
    “It’s getting late. We better go,” David said,” You want to come for dinner?”
    “Yeah,” I accepted.
    David’s mom is a great cook. Mrs. Goodman made great Jewish dishes, and tonight started the Sabbath. From sundown Friday to sundown Saturday, the Goodman's had their rest. The time was nearly four, so we had to hurry. This was supposed to be a typical Sabbath, a typical night. This friday was going to be anything but typical.
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                     PART VII

    On the way to David’s house, we heard sirens coming and turned to see fire engines rushing down the street. We knew where they were going. A few blocks ahead of us was the telltale sign of the emergency. A four story apartment was ablaze. Three fire trucks, several ambulances, and five or so cop cars. All the lights were flashing. Innumerable men were running everywhere trying to help others out of the building.
    “Chief!’ one man yelled, “all clear.”
    “Good! Everybody get clear,” he bellowed, “that buildings gonna go!”

    David grabbed my arm, “Alexis! Third floor, second window from the left!”
    A five year old boy was yelling for help and crying for his mother. His mother was frantic and screaming for her son. Some one said that the stairs were gone, that meant no way to save the boy.
    “Alexis, I think this is your answer,” David said.
    Without a second thought, I focused all my energy on the boy and hoped for the best. With every ounce of control I could muster, I carefully lifted the boy from the burning window. He wasn’t heavy, but I had never done this before and was having trouble keeping him steady. I was afraid I was going to drop him.
    I could feel myself loosing the hold I had on him, I tried to get him closer to the ground and nearer to the crowd. That would ensure a softer landing. I got him over his mother and failed to gently place him in her arms, he fell the last foot. No way his mother would let him fall she wrapped her crying son in her arms, praising God for His mercy and grace. A neighbor said they say an angel. Let them see angels.
    I dropped to my knees, physically and emotionally spent from the effort. David was next to me in an instant asking if I was okay.
    “Yeah, I think so,” I said,”Get me out of here,” I said shaking my head.
    David helped me up to my feet and put his arm under me to have me walk. We slipped past all the people and hurried running. We got to David’s house without uttering a word.
    He was right, I now had my answer. I had to work harder, but I couldn’t let this gift go to waste. I had to help people, my conscience demanded it. I had to make this crappie world just a little better, even it for just a few. Not for my sake, but for the sake of others. I could be the next Wonder Woman, Super Girl, or Bat Girl. Maybe this little punk could improve the city that I loved so much.
    I am strong, I am telekinetic. I am Alexis King!

                       END EPISODE I 

Reviews

[The Elder]

Great write my friend. Your character is interesting and believably human.
An interesting story line that completely holds the reader's interest.
There are a few misspellings and grammar errors, but nothing major at all.
The ending was predictable but good and well written.
Keep up the good work.