After a few days of being a hero, Simon’s amazing fire story wore out. He and the fire became old news and everything was back to normal, or at least partially. Simon still had his powers and he still hardly knew how to use them. Simon decided the only way he’d ever find out was by practicing, and for the next few days, that was all he did.
When the week was up, Ezekiel like he said showed up at the house. By that time, Simon had learned how to lift stuff, fly, freeze whole lakes, Simon had figured out how to even make it snow. Simon could do all he could normally and more with the ice. Stuff was starting to get cool.
That night Simon sat in his room. It was 9:32 and his guest still hadn’t arrived. Simon stared at the note he had set upon his night stand, the same one he found when he first awoke. Simon stared at the paper and smiled. He lifted his hands to his sides and concentrated on the note. A gust of wind entered Simon’s room, ever circling around the note; Simon flicked his fingers into a fully extended posture and a light amount of snow started falling on the paper, landing just where Simon wanted it, each and every letter was covered with the snow, nothing more nothing less, just the ink. Simon looked around his room. His bed was situated in the corner, facing his closet doors, which were next to his dresser. If he looked straight to his left, Simon could see his door. Simon heard footsteps outside of his room, tracing the shape he wanted with his finger, he made a block of ice on the ground, reflective enough to see under the door. Outside of his room was his older sister Leah, pacing back and forth with the phone rested on here shoulder, her other hand occupied with twirling her hair. Simon had a smirk on his face. He pointed his hand at the door. A breeze started up in his room. Water vapor in the air started freezing, preparing itself into a frigid breeze. Simon’s smirk turned into a smile and with the flick of his wrist, the doorbell rang. Simon stood up, putting the note back in his desk. He ran out of his room, his sister just entering hers. Simon hoped that Ezekiel wasn’t stupid enough to come to the front door and just waltz in. As he turned the corner to the stairs he heard his mother yell.
“I’ll get it!” He rushed down the stairs, each step creaking just as much as before. He jumped over the last few steps and rushed to the door. He got to the door out of breath. He had beaten his mother to it. He turned the doorknob, his hands so nervous he accidentally started to frost the handle. He let go of the handle now covered in a layer of frost and threw the door wide open, only to see T.J. standing there staring at Simon like he was some kind of weirdo.
“Why are you so out of breath dude? It’s not like I was going anywhere. T.J. said, stepping inside. Simon remembered the handle. T.J. turned to close the door, reaching for the handle.
“Uhh… I’ll get the door,” Simon reached out for the door and grabbed it. “So what do you want to do? I was just chilling upstairs.” Simon said. He closed the door, which had thawed off.
“I don’t know I just wanted to hang out with you, you’ve been acting kind of jitterish lately.” T.J. said T.J. put on the smile that almost always crossed his face. “Maybe it’s because I know you like Emma and you just found out.” He said, crossing his arms, smiling away like a mad man.
“You know what?!” Simon said, turning bright red. “Who told….. I didn’t even….. AARGHH!” Simon glared at the ceiling, his hands in fists. T.J. wasn’t smiling anymore. He thought that Simon would be happy he knew not extremely angry.
“Dude, chill out.” T.J. said Simon’s eyes turned down towards him. Something was weird about his eyes; they looked almost as if they were fading away into whiteness. “Dude what’s wrong, your eyes are freaking me out.”
Simon took a step forward. “You want me to chill out? Do ya?” Simon took another step forward, opening his clenched fists. A cool breeze blew through T.J.’s hair. “I think you should chill out!” A beam of ice rushed out of the palms of Simon’s hands towards the ground. T.J. stood there, petrified with fear. T.J. felt a cold sensation on his leg. He looked down and around his leg, as if to be living vines, ice twisted and turned, and grew around his leg, freezing him to the spot. The vines reached in every direction along the floor, climbing their way up everything they could get a hold of. Simon’s foyer was becoming a frozen wasteland, with the ice vines climbing along the chairs and grandfather clock. T.J. felt a sharp pain in his leg; he looked down and saw the vines were growing thorns. The vines had already made it to his waist; at this rate Simon could kill him in five minutes. The vines were getting longer and longer, they were up to his chest now and it was getting hard for T.J. to breathe. Simon, his best friend stood in front of him, glaring menacingly at him with his swirling white eyes, and ice pouring out of his hands with no sign of stopping. T.J. started to panic. He was going to die.
“Simon wait- please stop! I can’t breathe.” T.J. said struggling. Simon just sat their and smiled. T.J. turned to his right and his left, and both of the doorways were completely frozen with opaque white ice.
Suddenly Simon fell over, a porcelain vase broken behind him. A tall man in a trench coat stood behind him. He had white eyes like Simon and had an army cut blonde hair. The snow started to melt around T.J. and in the door. T.J. looked up at the man. “Don’t hurt my friend,” T.J. said “please.” The looked at him and smiled.
“Don’t worry; I will keep him perfectly safe.” Ezekiel said and with the swoosh of his hands, the world went white for T.J. and the rest of Simon’s family. After Ezekiel handled the unconscious bodies and put them back to where they were right before the incident started, erasing all of their memories of the incident, making it all a terrible day dream.
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