The White Light

Chapter Four

　

　

CHAPTER FOUR.

　

The reception of the school was where my things had been dropped off. It was also the first part of the school that I had ever seen. Located in the main school building (or ‘TYPICAL STUDENT STUDIES’ as it was labelled), the reception area was just as I remembered it.

So obviously it was becoming even less likely that this was all a dream.

Positioned rather hazardously in front of a large mahogany desk, three old duffel bags sat. These, of course, were mine. I had never seen the bags before in my life. They had almost certainly been removed from the loft upon my transfer to this boarding school. Which was known to the general (normal) public as a school for delinquents.

For some reason, my brain hadn’t yet pointed this out to me. It was a strange feeling knowing that your parents would tell your friends and family that you were now boarding at a school for troubled teens. For setting a tent on fire.

Everyone would think I was seriously messed up.

In some ways, I guess I was. I mean, I had seriously being imagining someone dying in a fire. Who does that? Its sick and cruel, even if it was the most awful girl in school. She would never be able to live a normal life again, all because of me. But, would I be able to live a normal life? In this world, I was sort of a celebrity. Not to sound big headed, but its true. I didn’t know if I was cut out for something like that.

Only time could tell, really.

On any normal day, me and Skylar would have had to make two trips, what with the size and weight of the bags. But Skylar had a different idea.

“Oh, lets test your powers! Usually, any other mover wouldn’t be able to move this sort of thing until like their sixth power lesson or something. But this is you! The White Light! Oh come on, try it, please?”

She didn’t sound sarcastic or bitter. She sounded honestly intrigued. I was going to like this girl.

I smiled at her.

“I don’t know how. Obviously it wont be as easy as seeing lights. What do I need to do?” I said rather self consciously, as we were in a reception with random strangers walking around. Some of them stopping to stare at me, probably more Movers who could see my light.

She looked at me like she was confused, before going on to speak.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, everything is sort of the same. You just have to want it. Of course, some things are harder than others. Like, for example, lifting heavy things as opposed to light things. Like healing big wounds as opposed to small cuts. It all takes practice. But, in the stories, people like you tend to be naturals. You can probably pick things up really easy. Just try to… want it. Like with seeing lights. Just imagine it, and really want it.”

So I did.

I imagined it in my head. I closed my eyes, and imagined the duffel bag floating in the air.

When I opened my eyes, nothing had happened. Skylar wore an expression similar to mine: irritation. I had really wanted it to work, I had really wanted to finally be a natural at something. All my life I had been a worker. It would have been nice to not work and get something straight away.

“Try again,” Skylar began, pursing her lips in thought. “Try again and keep your eyes open this time. You need to always have a mental attachment to the object. You have to always either think about it and know somewhere in your mind that you are manipulating it, or look at it and have a visual attachment. Try again and really want it. Really connect with it. Move it.”