Invincible

Chapter Eleven

It's nearly one o' clock in the morning. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Brad was asleep. He was so exhausted from work that I don't think he'll be getting up for the rest of the night. If he does, I stuffed a few things under the covers so he'd think I was sleeping. He won't wake up right away when he sees it, so I should be good.

I get out of my pajamas, trading in my tank-top for a black low collared t-shirt, and my plaid red and blue bottoms for black denim jeans. I slide my feet into Brad's old black leather boots, and after I break them in for a while, I walk towards the bed, and reach under it for the leather jacket.

It's warm, I think, rubbing my fingers against its soft, scorching texture. And I as put it on along with my gloves, it gives off an uncomfortable sensation against my skin, as if I were engulfed in flames.

I practice some punching and kicking to make sure that I'm comfortable with the attire. From what Ryan's told me, there's no telling what I'm going to expect tonight.

I look at myself in the mirror. Compared to the last time I saw myself, I could proudly say that I've achieved my goal. I looked different. I felt different. I didn't feel like the Troy at school, the person who kept secrets, pretending to something he wasn't. Now, I just felt like Troy, the person with no trace of his past, the person who stood up for himself, the person who would, starting tonight, try to make a difference.

I open the window and step back a few distances. My plan was to fly out the window, although I hadn't really practiced it that much as I did with my other powers. It seemed stupid not to make it a bigger priority, but for some reason, I thought it would just come to me naturally if I didn't think about it so much.

It was too late to turn back now. With all the effort I'd put into this, it'd be a shame to have it all go to waste. And I'm certainly not a quitter. So I might as well pull it together, and enjoy the ride. If I didn't make it, the best thing that I can hope for were a minimal amount of dethatched limbs.

And before I realize it, I leap out the window.

Just as I'd suspected, I was heading down.

As I screamed and waited to face my death, my mind goes back to my first experience of flight. How I gotten onto the ground when I fell off the tree. That was how I managed to survive. I had to control my body.

I quickly arch my back, and in a matter of seconds, I'm flying above the house. From there, I arch again and head north, facing the stars. My screams of fear seep into ones of joy as I swirl around, flying in the correct position, with my stomach facing the ground.

As the heavy wind presses against my face, I beam with excitement. I thought this would become a major problem all in itself, but there was actually nothing to worry about. Instead of failing, I succeed.

I can fly, I think. I can finally fly.

Now that that was over, the real work of the night was about to begin.

I begin to use my super-hearing, and sadly, I could only hear the things that were passing by. It has become a recent problem these past few days, trying to listen to everything, and I mean, everything all at once. I stopped using my thoughts of Taylor to ease my mind, and ever since then, it hasn't been able to function right. Every now and then, I would get it, holding onto it for as long as I could, only for it to slip away seconds later.

But it would be different this time. I had to get this. And I had to get it right now. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could force open the barriers of my hearing and expand it. Like a bubble, or a rubber band. That way, I could hear stuff from farther distances, instead of the ones around me.