The Man in the White Jacket

Journal Entry 12 (19)

Despite the fact I'm only writing this for myself, I am disappointed that I've been so busy I haven't been able to write in this notebook. With the rallies, the election and the polls, I haven't had much time to write. Appearing for the public for the first time was kind of a shocker. I knew I wasn't going to be killed, because everyone who listens to me instantly agrees with what I'm saying - all the elections were easy- candidates resigning left and right.

I felt so powerful the entire time. I brought the whole world together on these issues. I'm proud of myself - all my ideas - the entire world in the palm of my hand. Well, most of the world. I'm not even sure if he counts anymore as part of the world - he's kind of always been an outside identity - no matter how you fit it.

Crackle is always behind me - not in the way that he agrees with what I'm doing. He probably actual agrees with the opposite, actually. He's literally behind me all the time. Watching me. A lot of the time he's writing actually, in a journal. Not using the method I do now, which is controlling a pen to write for me so I can write in the heat of a moment. He does it himself - kinetically. Kind of stupid. He's not very practical.

I think the best time was the inauguration speech. I'm the youngest person to become president - obviously, and it felt good. It felt good to know that my parents were probably watching me become someone. They of course didn't know it was me - how could they? But they agreed with what I said. If they listened to me talk, they agreed with me.

You know, they don't tell you this when you sign up, but the seats these days are pretty uncomfortable at the White House. And it's so much work. I have to make sure I'm caught up with all the current and military events - I need to know everything. Sometimes Crackle will help me with paperwork and go to meetings for me. I think he really likes his sayings - keep your friends close and your enemies closer, know thy enemy. He follows those like people follow me.

I get a message, the phone on my desk ringing. I press the button, the click and buzz sounding off as I hear an official begin to talk, "There is a woman here to see you, Jessica Knowman."

I nearly fall out of my chair, leaning back, my eyes wide. Jessica. I barely remember her, so many things have happened since then. Crackle chuckles, his voice burning. He smokes a lot, way too much. His voice has gotten gravely since my last entry. It's like - he's no longer a fire and more like a sooty ash tray. "Well Lance, are you gonna confront your old friend?"

I smile, looking behind me as he sits in his chair in the back of the room. It seems out of place in the tidy room with it's placement as if it was dropped in a random spot. "Of course." I say, and I press the button, "Send her right in. She's a good friend of mine from a while back."

Crackle gets up from his chair, "I should leave." I watch the door. Waiting for an entrance. "Why is that?"

"Forgive me. You know how people like us can hide ourself - become invisible and intangible?" Crackle says.

"Yes."

"Well - I never told you that psychics can't hide from other psychics, because we all draw from the same mysterious energy. Or something like that. I don't know, all I do know is that we can't hide from other people like us. So Jessica will see me."

Oh, so he waits till know to give me that little detail. Damn him. Well, maybe it would be a good idea to have him around. I reach my hand out at him as he walks away, "No, wait. Just stick with us. I don't mind you staying here with us."

He leans against the wall, "Fine."

The door opens, and in walks Jessica. I motion the security out of the room, and like marionettes, they walk out, invisible strings pulling on there limbs. I wave my hand, and the door slams shut with a bang. Jessica walks forward calmly. She wears a blue sweater and jeans, her back hunched over. She slams her hands on the desk, and looks up at me, her eyes crazy, "You've gone mad."

"Nonsense." I say, "I've fixed this country. Crime has gone done - everything has gone down. Come now, why are you complaining."

She lifts her hands off the desk and they rest at her side, and she stares into my eyes. Well I like to think of mine as whole and pure, hers are hollow. She looks sad and worried. "You've developed a god complex." She then points, lifting her hand and pointing at Crackle, "Who is that, your advisory."

I open my mouth, but Crackle begins speaking first, "On the contrary, I disagree with him. But alas, there is nothing I can do. I've tried to match his power, but every time I do, it only makes him more powerful. I wouldn't suggest trying to fight him."

She lifts her hands, anger clouding her face, "Oh, so you have given up too. Everyone around here falls in line with this crazy kid. I've met with the other psychics. They are all jealous - but I see past that. The power has driven you insane."

I get up, it's my turn to put my hands on the desk, "I have fixed this country. I have done what nobody else can!" Jessica starts chuckling. Then laughing, her head leans back and she lets out these deep bellows and slaps her knee, "Your right. You have done what nobody else can. Because your the only one crazy enough too."

I throw out my wrist, conjuring the blue psychic darts and throwing them at Jessica. She sidesteps, her braid being shaven off by one of them. She retaliates with a psychics push, throwing the desk at me, I wave my arm and the desk is sliced in half, landing in pieces behind me. I throw her, slamming her into a wall. She lands hard on her forearm, scraping it up, and struggling to stand. She throws everything into one powerful push. I cross my arms in front of it.

All of the emotion and anger inside of her turns into a massive blast, shredding paper and turning it into flames. I feel myself knocked to the ground. I look up and see Crackle light a cigarette on a piece of burning paper so casually. Like the blast didn't even faze him. And he says he can't kill me. What the hell is wrong with him.

I raise up my hand, Crackle's cigarette goes out, the paper stays together. The desk fuses back together. If I wait she will kill me. She is far too angry. Why does everyone think I am the crazy one when I'm the only one who ever keeps their cool?

I shoot the darts again, but this time I don't stop. I barrage the wall, slicing and cutting with no end. I can't look at what I'm doing. But after what seems like a good minute, I open one eye and look at the disaster I have made. Jessica is gone. I look up at Crackle, "So, what happened?"

"You killed your friend." Crackle says. He lights a cigarette, "You didn't need to see the body so I removed it for you. Man, she was right about the god complex."

I try to push him, but my hands just push air and I fall to the ground, my body aching from the tiresome action of karate chopping the air. Crackle offers me his hand, I take it. "Will you please just shut up for once?"

He sits back down in his chair. I hunch over my desk and begin filing more useless paperwork.