Leaving the bar I could see the rain clouds appear. I look up at the sky and see the droplets start to fall. Hearing each and every one of them hitting the ground. I still don't want to go home. I turn the corner wanting to walk out of the city.
As I swing around the corner trying to wipe my forehead from the rain drops, I knock into a tall figure. I don't even look. Distracted with the rain falling off my eyelashes. "I'm so sorry, excuse me." I say as I move out of the way, finally getting my view back. "It's..ok."
I stop in my tracks. I hear honey. My head jolts up and I twist my body around.
Franco.
"Jac-...Franco.. I-I" I can't form a sentence. I didn't even know what to say. My pendant burns giving a warm touch throughout my body. I knew gloomy days would brighten your eyes. The light that was stolen from me a year ago has returned. A shimmer of hope flickers through my heart as I take him in. I go to speak but he shakes his head.
"I-I.. can't." He can barely choke out words either, throwing his head side to side as if looking for someone.
He doesn't even go into the store. He turns his back to me and quickly walks away into the nearby alley.
I still stand there frozen.
I don't even remember the last time I breathed.
My light was getting further and further away. The once soft droplets now become sharp hitting the ground. The clouds once beautifully gloomy now crack and roar through the sky. I turn my head to the left where the direction my house is, then snapping to the right to see the direction of the forest.
Forest.
I walk until I am standing before a giant tree trunk. Sprawled along the muddy ground. The tree hovers over me, protecting me from the rain. I wanted to thank it as I sat down in the mud, leaning my back against it. I curl my knees closer to me. I lift my pendant from my sweatshirt, cupping it with both hands.
"I hate you." I whisper to it.
"I hate you so much." I trail off contemplating taking it off.
I am alone.
I can't be controlled in this forest. I can strengthen my muscles.
I shouldn't be drunk in the forest alone.
I pull the chain off my neck and no longer feel the cold muddy ground. I feel warm, I feel as if there is no loud bashing thunder around me, but an orchestra played by nature. The lightning cracking was music to my ears. It was life itself speaking to us.
I hold my hands up shaking but not as horrible as last year.
I was becoming more familiar with the sensation of removing it.
Twice in a year compared to nothing over four thousand years had already given me more confidence.
My mind was no longer clouded by alcohol, my body burning it out.
As I place my palm downward to the ground I begin to lightly pulse the mud upward. It swirls from below to make its way an inch from my palm.
I move it left to right watching it follow me. Tears brim to my eyes as I smile at the sight. I have not used my hands to manipulate gravity for so long. I bring my palm to the front of my face, watching the mud swirl into a small tornado. "You would be dangerous in the wrong hands." I joke to myself.
I set the small tornado of mud onto the ground. I lift myself up, moving my arm left and right as the tornado follows. I stomp my feet in the puddle giddy at the smallest marvel I have created. I push both my palms to the ground, lightly pointing my fingers deeper towards the ground. I can feel my heels lift from the puddle, my fingers glow brighter and brighter until my toes finally lift off the ground.
My fingers are starting to quake as I feel a strain in my body. I wasn't strong enough to lift higher than a foot. My feet slap back into the mud sinking them like cement.
I flop backwards into the thick goop, striking back into the ground with my arms, displeased from the results of trial and error.
A hard casing of mud coats my hair, matting it to the back of my sweatshirt. My pants are now completely soaked from the rain. "Come on." I mumble. I stand upright again pushing my fingertips downward.
My heels,
my toes,
a foot off the ground.
My muscles begin to tighten as I push myself harder. "Come on, come on."
I repeat.
Two feet,
three feet,
four feet.
I feel pins and needles in my flesh as I keep pushing.
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Gemma -Apocalyptic Fantasy Romance-
FantasyA race of godly creatures made from the stars named Starzithians have become in danger as a group of people from across the galaxy have sought out their death, naming the Starzithians as Solar Destroyers after their ancestors started consuming Solar...
