Hey! This took me a while to space out properly! Gosh, YWS had better make this a lot easier! Anyway, enjoy. This was my punishment. Basically, my parents forced me to write something or rather because I got in trouble...
“There are no Limits to life”
Was what was carved into the stone above the entryway. It was contextual, but they believed in
it, so who am I to judge? Some people believe in resurrection, others heaven and hell. If this was
the last school I should visit, so be it. The interior held fast to the motto engraved in the stone.
There were plants hanging from the ceiling, some from the chandelier. As I exited the foyer, I could
see there was more to the motto than the personal expression of plants. The foyer was suddenly cut
off by the complete interior of the school itself, a huge, wide open space. The marble underneath my
feet gave way to glass, as I walked over the bridge. Underneath I could see more open space, filled
with marble and glass, underneath of which I could see hundreds of fish, floating about under the
glass.
“Joseph! Welcome! Sorry we could not meet you in front, but I had a meeting…”
It’s a hippie school, was my first thought. She wore a dark green T-shirt with the peace
sign emblazoned on it, a long multicolored skirt, long hair, and several different earrings and
ribbons. She also wore a tag, distorted with hand-drawn peace signs, which read, “Principle”.
“Welcome,” she repeated, smiling crookedly. “To your new school!”
She smiled again, and looked me up and down.
“Oh, did they make you wear that?” she said, worriedly.
“Uh, no, no they didn’t. I wanted to wear it.”
I was beginning to notice the lack of students in the entire area.
“Where is everyone?”
“They haven’t arrived yet, you came early! Here, let’s show you your room, shall we?”
She turned and led me down a spiraling stair case from the bridge to the ground floor.
We passed by a huge fountain, spraying water onto the floor, only to be vacuumed up by a grate set
deep in the floor. The fish clustered in the piping, where the transparent pipes transferred the water
into the ground. And, a little ways away, there was a tree, springing up from the glass and the patch
of soil surrounding it.
“Okay, here we go!”
She led me into the first of the rooms. It was empty but for a bed and a chair, which
sat morosely next to one another.
“You have a bathroom, and even a shower stall. It may seem a little… empty now, but
as the year progresses you can furnish it with… this catalogue!”
She held up a large magazine, and inside there were different customized stickers.
“If you need anything, tell me. This is a school for children to be able to express
themselves in any way they want, and to enforce environmental respect and personal expression. We
think that they should be able to have potential freedom, and to hone a certain skill before moving
on to the next.”
It sounded like a rehearsal to me. I smiled, however, and she seemed satisfied.
“You can personalize the room in any way you want, just keep those bad, violent
thoughts you may have once in a while off these walls, please. Everyone has them, but please try not
to express those through violence.”
I smiled again, and she left. I unpacked. I sat on the bed. I took out the catalogue
and stuck a few of the stickers on the wall and the chair. They were mainly different style peace
signs. They had forbade all electronics, so I read. I tried to concentrate, but found I could not. I
finally stepped outside, into the hallway, and out into the huge interior, with the many fish. I circled
over to the end, where a waterfall trickled down into a shallow pool, where the fish congregated. This
part of the mall-like interior was open to the air, and the fish came about in groups to tweak the many
insects off the many plants. The ceiling was fashioned from glass, and the sky was visible. There was
a loud ringing noise and a large mechanical arm flew out from the foliage on the other side of the
mini waterfall and dumped a whole can of fish food out into the water. Many more fish arrived after,
hungrily sucking and biting the pellets from the water surrounding them.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?”
I jumped, turning to face the speaker. It was a boy, and it was visible, from the clothes
and his figure, he had come to this school before. He wore jeans, a bright bandanna and a T-shirt
with a pickle jar on it.
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
“Joseph.”
“Ah, cool, mine’s Alexander.”
“Cool,” I said, trying to look like I didn’t care either way, whether his name was even
Obadiah.
“They can be quite… bloodthirsty at times. It’s best you don’t… tempt them.”
“What, the fish?” I said, warily. I turned back to the water, just in time to see a huge
Japanese goldfish leap from the water, mouth open. I jerked my head back, and the fish soared
from the water and landed on the glass beside me. Alexander laughed and repositioned his shoulder
pack, and ran off to meet his friends. I suddenly knew who to avoid.
After my debriefing the next day, I was sent to the auditorium to be introduced to the
student body. I have done this so many times there was nothing that surprised me. No new customs
other than a hello and a hearty gesture towards the classroom door.
“Alright, class, you’ve all met Jeffrey—sorry—Joseph, so let’s Go!”
All the people were herded towards the exit. I felt slightly like an outcast at this point.
No one said anything to me but the usual hello or goodbye. The whole environmental subject was
very much alive—we were heading outside. One of the first few things I noticed about their grounds
was this: the forest penetrated everything. In all schools they have at least 20 meter’s distance
between the tree line and the doorway itself. Let’s put it this way: there was a tree a step away from
the doorway. A squirrel halted, halfway up. It made a chirping noise and continued upward at a
casual pace.
My peers seemed at ease in the forest, they stepped around the mud holes and over
tree roots with barely any effort at all. They left the door open, and were unfazed when the squirrel
walked inside. The class quickly and silently divided into two groups. They were not divided by race,
gender or popularity—not that I could see. Despite their overall ability to navigate the forest, they
were divided into the two groups by environmental skill—I could see that as the other group moved
over to the underbrush, picking their way, without ripping their clothes on the patch of thorns nearby.
There was an underlying tension throughout the excursion, a kind that I had felt before. They
resented me, for a reason I could not place. I tried my best to be pleasant, in spite of their sour
faces. Lunch was the way I’d expected it to be—meatless. There was salad, and a whole selection of
carbohydrates. I did not sit alone, however. It seemed the principle, Ms. Fiddles, had recruited a few
people my age to sit with me. They were not happy about it, either. The other tables were bursting
with excitement and laughter, while mine was more morose than the graveyard back home.
“So,” one said after a while. “Where do you live?”
“Used to live in Canada but I’ve moved a lot in the past few years. I’ve been to Asia, Europe, places like that.”
“You hear that, Connor? Eh?”
“Yeah, I heard what he said, Martin, but that doesn’t change much, does it?”
“Yeah it does! So, you’ve had trouble adjusting, right?”
“Yes, I guess so—”
“See?”
“See what?”
“Okay, Martin, okay. Let’s see it then!”
“Um, kid, could you—er, show him?”
“Show him what?”
I glanced across the lunchroom, and my eyes saw a green T-shirt with a large green
peace sign. Ms. Fiddles’ nose was twitching in agitation, and her eyes darted from me to the clock to
the door and back again. I turned back to see Martin and Connor, their foreheads pressed together
in fury, jabbing fingers at their chests and shouting incomprehensively.
“Kid, show ‘em!” one shouted.
“Martin, stop RAVING!”
“NO! You have to SEE him do it first before you—”
There was a smashing noise, and Martin’s glass shattered. It was a chain reaction, and
soon billions of glass shards hurled themselves into the air. Someone grabbed my shirt and yanked
me to the floor. Glass from the cafeteria window threw itself across the room, screeching over the
space I had sat a second before. It hit the opposite wall and burst into smaller pieces. A figure stood
in the empty space the window once occupied. A burst of light and a loud bang enveloped the entire
room, and suddenly the man was gone. Vanished, and the tree outside the window was sliced in two,
as if a lightning bolt had struck it. I put a hand to my face, and felt a trickle of blood adventuring
down my cheek.
Recovery
“Joseph—you must rest.”
“Not now.”
“Yes now.”
“This school is about self expression—correct?”
“Yes…”
“Then I am expressing myself. I do not want to sleep or rest or recover right now.”
“Then what could you possibly want to do?”
“Go see the fish.”
I walked triumphantly down the hallway, away from the protesting nurse and the many
injured. Martin and Connor were among them—they were standing when the glass was destroyed. I
stepped out into the white lobby, with its plants and aquarium floor. The large fish, mostly
multicolored splotches of color, circled below me by the fountain.
“Careful. They bite.”
One of the fish suddenly leaped out of the water, smacking me with its tail. I knew who
it was even before the rabid goldfish jumped. I could feel some sort of tugging in my stomach, and
the world seemed to flip and ripple like a disturbed pond. My dizziness subsided and I turned to face
Fishboy Alexander. There was a bandage on his cheek from the exploding glass incident. He was
smiling as only his sort could manage, a small, sly smile.
“Watch this.”
He beckoned, and a fish leaped from the water and onto the glass. I watched as it
flopped around, trying to find the water, but it had leaped too far out onto the glass. Its efforts
began to slow.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Killing it.”
“Close, dude, close.”
“Why?”
“Cause I can. Period.”
I felt another wave of dizziness wash over me. My eyes were losing focus. The fish
made it back into the water, and my vision cleared. Watching it die was… sickening. But it had
survived. Lucky fish…it was probably smarter than its would-be killer.
“So…Alex…how’d you do that?”
“What?”
“Get the fish out of the water.”
“Dude…you’re so stupid. Have you noticed everyone can do something…special?”
“So…you’re saying Martin can burst glass and you can control Japanese goldfish.”
“Yes, and I can control more than goldfish. What can you do?”
“Dunno.”
“You’ll have to see. Or you don’t actually have an ability and you’ll move on to another
school. You move around a lot, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Either you’re stupid or you’re special.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Alexander laughed and made a gesture. Another fish leaped into the air
and then fell with a resounding smack into the water. “Hey. You want some advice?”
“Okay.”
Alex looked around and then leaned down to my ear.
“You have to get out.”
“What?”
“Get out. I can tell you don’t belong. We can do things…and you can’t.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Here…let me give you a little demo.”
Yet another fish flew out of the water and smacked me in the face.
“Hey—what?”
Alex laughed and gestured. Another fish smacked me in the face…and another.
“Hey!”
A small group of people had gathered. Some were laughing, while others looked on,
looking amused.
“Come on. If you can do anything at all, do it!”
I was unable to react—I didn’t know what he meant by ability…though I knew his. He
could control fish…or animals. Perhaps Martin could smash glass with a thought. No wonder Mrs.
Fiddles wanted everything in order and to keep violence at a minimum. No wonder. Now I
understood, as I sat on the ground, being repeatedly smacked in the face by a couple of mindless
fish. After a while Alex stopped.
“See? He doesn’t belong. Come on guys, let’s see the parrots.”
They left. Many of my other past experiences have been similar, especially around
people like Alexander. You know, I’m not that different. I have thick brown hair and blue eyes.
That’s not very alien, or different. I’m not albino…or have purple eyes. Up till now I used to think I
was normal. I read a lot and play a few sports…that’s it. Normal, right? These other kids are pretty
normal looking also. But that’s the big illusion. They’re not. Why else would they be at this hippy
school? They’re being brainwashed, although Alex isn’t. “Violence is bad” was what Mrs. Fiddle said
when speaking to the math teacher. They were in unanimous agreement, also.
The next few weeks passed in a monotonous haze. I ate, slept, worked, sat in circles
and played an organized game of Indian Chief with my classmates, and tried talking to new people.
The talking and socializing with new people didn’t work very well. Maybe it’s because I tried talking to
Martin, who has anger management problems, and also an ability to blow up glass, which resulted in
my suspension from the science lab on Test Tube Day. Or maybe it was because Alexander teased
me and abused me in any way he could. During a nature walk into the forest, he sent a torrent of
bees after me. I still have small scars where the bees stung me to prove it. I wasn’t too worried
about the stings. I was worried about the bee population. Some kid a grade below me can “heal”,
which meant she could heal the wounds, not the marks they left. Perfect…I have a bunch of small
white scars on the back of my hands. She assured me most wouldn’t be permanent, but it’s been a
week now, and the stings have formed the shape of a small bee, thanks to Eddie, who controls scar
tissue. It is one of the oddest talents at this school. The ability to manipulate scar tissue…Eddie is
always very eager to use his talent, seeing as there aren’t many people going around with scar tissue
that needs to be rearranged into the form of a bee!
As if that was bad enough, Alexander set a bear loose in the school…that somehow
thought my room was its litter box. No matter, they had me moved into another room and my old
room has been cleaned out. No, it was not until mid-January that Alexander decided to cross the line.
It was lunch, and I was sitting at a table with five other students, most of which who had
very small abilities, or their talents were so ridiculous they may as well not have one at all. Eddie was
at my table, along with Janice, a large basketball player that can change her eyebrow color at will.
There is also Mark, Thomas and Jeremy. Mark can pass his hand over paper, and without using a
pen, write through thought. He tried explaining it to me: “It’s as if your hand is a pen someone else
is writing with, and you’re directing them.” He also said that after a while he loses the sense of touch
in his “writing hand”. Thomas can change television channels at will, by blinking. Jeremy can control
cells. Yes, the tiny, tiny little beings that makes up life…and yes, he can only control one at a time…of
course. So that’s it: the loser’s table. There are other tables, though they seem to be made up by
the more popular and more powerful…the ones with more ability. And then there’s me: Joseph, the
clown-head wonder. While other kids practice their talents during the two periods a day, I hang out by
the fish, which probably means I have a death wish, because Alexander sometimes practices his
ability during those periods. But in the past few days, Mrs. Fiddle has been trying to discover what
makes me “special”. I fear she’s damaging me, rather than “aiding me to find the path to right-
ness”.
Anyway: back to the lunch table. There are screams coming from the hallway.
Suddenly, a huge rhinoceros smashes through the swiveling doors. Everyone scatters in every
direction. I even saw a few completely discombobulated people actually head in the direction of the
rabid rhinoceros! Of course, I already knew who was responsible. Alexander…who else would be able,
and stupid enough to lure a rhinoceros into the middle of Montana and set it loose in a cafeteria?
And, of course, the rhinoceros was after me. It stopped its charge, which I didn’t believe before now
was possible, and raised its head. Small, black beady eyes dragged across a sea of humans until it
spotted me. You must understand, up till now I had endured the usual stuff that is to be expected of
peers: teasing, abuse, maybe getting slapped by fish, purposefully stung by a couple thousand of
zombie bees, having my room wrecked by a bear with a serious diet problem, and now this. Up till
now, Alex hadn’t really intended to hurt me. But this time he went too far. I raised my hands to
defend myself, feeling an alien energy coursing through me, and my hand shot out. The rhinoceros
froze. I raised my hand, and the huge rhino followed, flying slowly through the air. My hand
continued in a large arc until it came down around the other side of my body. The rhinoceros was
suddenly on the ground behind me. And, I realize now. I had just performed a sort of magic, call it
whatever you will, but I had a talent. I could now become part of the group. I could have friends. I
could heroically stand up and give Alex an amazing speech about violence and words. However, I felt
myself falling down through the air and hitting the ground by the large rhinoceros with a small thump.
My eyes lost focus, and large black dots formed over my vision, and I saw no more.
When I woke, I was in the infirmary. It took me a few minutes for my brain to warm up
again. There was a strange chill surrounding my body. Even my sheets were cold. The nurse bustled
in.
“Well, dear, it seems that you have found yourself a talent! Congratulations!”
I gave a low moan.
“Yes, dear, I’m afraid you’ll feel chills for the next twenty-four hours. You’ll be in bed
all week. It takes a huge amount of energy the first time. It’ll get easier as you practice. You’ll see.
But in the meantime, you need to get a lot of rest. All your studies will be halted for the week. I’d
enjoy it if I were you. A niece of mine is in this very school. I remember the first time she realized
she could speak every language the world has to offer. She, too was out all week! And that was after
taking an oral placement test to learn Swahili! She got into all those language schools, but was
instead taken into this one. Funny how that works, eh?”
“Uh.” Was my intelligent reply. “What about Alexander?”
“Oh, poor Alex. He’s been suspended for five days, but that is his only punishment.
After all, dear, he was trying to help.”
“Help…me?”
“Yes, you see, he wanted to help you find your place in the community by encouraging
your instincts. Poor dear.”
“Oh yes of course. Poor Alex.” Whether fortunately or unfortunately, the nurse did not
hear the sarcasm. She bustled off to other business. That was when I realized all the Q-tips had
floated out of the jar while I had been talking. The moment I realized this, they fell back down into
the jar with barely audible taps.
That was when my constant practice began. Whether I was in class, walking to lunch, or
at lunch, I practiced shifting objects with mere gestures and thoughts. I mostly ignored what other
people did and said. I was drifting in my own world—one without conflict. There was only me and a
growing power that I nursed and cherished. I became lazy, preferring to make a small gesture to pick
up a pencil rather than lean over and pick it up. And, believe it or not, I actually became popular.
More people paid attention when I spoke in class, though I did so all the time anyway. I almost
always had the answers to the questions asked in class anyway. My grades and my power made me
more popular, and eventually I was sitting at the popular tables, shifting milk cartons and forks for
me. My power literally fed me. Not only physically at lunch, but it fed my confidence and strength.
I never truly forgave Alex. I believe at some point during the remainder of the year I
actually made fun of him in some way or another. And then it was my turn to cross the line.
“Hey Alex.”
“Hey.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting my books.”
“Here. Let me help you with that.” I gestured, and his books gusted out of his hands
and onto the floor. “Oops. Must’ve messed up somewhere.”
“It’s OK.”
“No, no it’s not. Here, let me get it.” I clicked my fingers, egged on my the giggling
crowd. His books flew up and smacked him in the face.
“Stop.” It wasn’t a question. But, in my blindness, I couldn’t see the end of the path.
“What did you say?” the room became deathly quiet. No one moved. I could hear the
trickling water from underneath us. The fish swirled underneath Alexander, under the glass floor.
Small items began to rise. My power, at times, was uncontrollable. I found that, wherever I went,
small objects would rise in a lack of gravity around me, if I was absent minded.
There was a splash. I was too slow to see the fish flying through the air toward me, a
blur of white and red. It smacked me in the face, and suddenly I remembered my first day,
Alexander laughing at me, nearly killing a fish, and making one attack me. That was enough to
unsettle the balance. I made a wild gesture with a hand, and Alexander flew through the air,
smashing against the wall to the right. I held my hand there, and he stayed, rooted to the wall,
immobile. A volley of fish flew from the water to defend him. I raised my other hand and they froze
in midair. A parrot flew down and attacked me, raking me with its talons. I froze it in its position,
talons raised, tongue out in a silent squawk. I felt my hand move of its own accord, beginning to
close, squeezing the life from Alexander’s body. I could not stop the hand as it drew to a close.
“Stop!” it was Mark. “You’ll kill him! Stop!”
Of course I knew that! How was I supposed to? I concentrated on it. By doing so, I
released the fish and the parrot. The fish flopped back into the water, but the parrot continued to
scrape away at my back. I ignored it, focusing on stopping my hand. Slowly, Alexander slid down the
wall, and air returned to his throat. No air escaped mine. No air entered mine. I was spent, and now
I had realized. I began as the victim, and the power had turned me into the monster.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 46