Breathe Electric: Lightning Flight.
by Alex Leigh Kamber
by Alex Leigh Kamber
There. In the back of the classroom. See him? No, not him. The one in the very back. Fidgeting, with his legs crossed in his seat, glancing around like he’s lost. No, no no, not him, you idiot! Yes! Him!
That’s Nickolas Pulser.
Nickolas ain’t a normal kid. He has problems- a lot of them. Like his suicidal mom. His hateful dad. His abusive uncle. His “conditions” that make him special.
Do I have your curiosity now? Good.
‘Cause see, there’s a lot more to Nickolas than meets the eye. Underlying secrets that lace themselves in his blood, pulsing in his veins-literally.
This is it.A conspiracy. A race. An escape. This, is Nickolas Pulser, and his rather....”electrifying” story.
Prepare to be Shocked.
That’s Nickolas Pulser.
Nickolas ain’t a normal kid. He has problems- a lot of them. Like his suicidal mom. His hateful dad. His abusive uncle. His “conditions” that make him special.
Do I have your curiosity now? Good.
‘Cause see, there’s a lot more to Nickolas than meets the eye. Underlying secrets that lace themselves in his blood, pulsing in his veins-literally.
This is it.A conspiracy. A race. An escape. This, is Nickolas Pulser, and his rather....”electrifying” story.
Prepare to be Shocked.
BREATHE ELECTRIC: LIGHTNING THIEF
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Nickolas sat in the desk chair with his knees hugged to his chest, quietly giggling to himself.
Drugs were duds. He thought to himself, and laughed aloud without meaning to. His hands spasmed slightly even though he had them clasped around his knees, and electricity sparked through the air, bouncing off his wire-rimmed glasses. His orange converse Vans seemed fluorescent underneath the classroom light, in stark contrast with his black Asking Alexandria tee shirt and dark purple skinny jeans. Occasionally he pulsed, spasming with electric currents. His movements elicited several whispers and laughs from his classmates, not that a loopy-feeling Nickolas-whose rocking became greater-noticed.
“Nickolas?” The teacher asked him. “Would you like a moment alone?”
Nickolas shook his head, still giggling. “No thanks. Mr. Wicked Witch of the West.” He laughed.
The teacher, Mr. Travis West, sighed. “Nickolas, we’ve discussed this. That’s not my name.”
Nickolas continued to giggle crazily. “Sorry, Travis.”
Mr. West sighed again and grabbed one of Nickolas’ spasming hands, pulling him into the hallway. “Nickolas, have you taken your medicine today?”
Nickolas nodded, trying to suppress a smile as he placed with his Star of David necklace. “Y-yes.” He giggled, hand spasming and hitting his thigh.
“Are you lying?” Mr. West asked him.
“Drugs were duds.” Nickolas laughed despite himself. “Drugs were duds!”
“Nickolas, follow me.” Mr. West grabbed his hand again and began to lead him downstairs.
Where to? The castle?” Nickolas asked, any hint of joking suddenly erased from his voice.
“To get your sacred chalice.” Mr. West replied, playing along as he led Nickolas down to the office.
“What about my medallion?” Nickolas asked him, standing still as Mr. West got the nurse.
“Take a seat, Nickolas.” The nurse. Ms. V, told him.
Nickolas obediently took his usual seat on the examination table, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. He watched as she put a syringe full of medicine in a water bottle and pressed the bottle into his palm. “Here’s your chalice, Nickolas. Drink from it.”
He tentatively put it to his lips and began to slowly drink, sip by sip. He squeezed the bottle as he drank, giggling occasionally at the crunching sound the plastic made. Eventually, he had the bottle drained. His rocking ceased, and he sat there with his chin on his knees, brow furrowed as though deep in thought.
“Better now?” Mr. West asked him.
“Yes sir, Mr. West.” Nickolas replied, letting his feet dangle. He carefully hopped down, and the air sizzled with a small pop as his feet touched the tile. “Guess I gotta get back to class.” He let out a single, tiny giggle. “What period is it?” He was fiddling with his necklace again, thoughts drifting towards last year’s Hanukkah celebration.
“You’re in my class. I’ll walk you back.” Mr. West told him, and led him back upstairs again.
Once they were inside, Nickolas quietly took his seat, sitting cross legged in the chair and glancing around as Mr. West began his lecture again.
“Nickolas. Nickolas!” Nickolas’ head snapped toward the front, his thoughts going blank at Mr. West’s calling. “Nickolas, I need you to pay attention.”
Nickolas kept his eyes trained on Mr. West as Mr.West began to speak again. Despite his trying to pay attention, Nickolas’ thoughts drifted off again, and he absently played with his fingers as he smiled and giggled quietly at his thoughts.
“Nickolas!” Nickolas came rocketing back down to earth again, and he smiled sheepishly, forcing himself to pay attention until the bell rang.
Next class was Social Studies, one Nickolas hated with a strong passion.The teacher, Ms. Fachia, was mean and treated him like he was ignorant. He hated her, but loved the subject she taught. Therefore, he spent all of her class listening to music with his iPod and reading the textbook, and some extra books about Greek, Roman and Egyptian mythology.Even though he was an Orthodox Jew, he loved reading about mythology. It was the only thing besides writing that kept him still and focused most of the time.
He crossed his legs and put his iPod in his lap as he opened his worn, dog-eared mythology encyclopedia. Opening it, he began to silently read.
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