My Only Hope

My Only Hope- Chapter 5

Hey, people! Here's another chapter. Thanx for voting!

There he was, sitting there, looking very business-man like in his black and white suit. By the looks of things, he was the leader. I wondered if he were the William Banks on the door.

          When we walked in, everything became quiet. People stared at me. In awkwardness, I shifted my weight on my feet.

          “Ah, Rose Malone, so nice of you to join us,” he said. How did he know my name? “Please, take a seat,”

          I sat down, my chained hands in my lap.

          “I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re very gifted and talented. You have powers none of us could ever accomplish,” he said.

          I had no idea what he was talking about. It was kind of scaring me.

          “Surely, you recall the soccer incident, and that time in the fourth grade,”

          I remember it clearly. In fourth grade, there was a mean girl that no one liked. I seemed to be her main target. One day, while I was eating lunch with Rebecca, something strange happened. That day we were eating macaroni and cheese with red fruit punch to drink. I honestly don’t know why they gave us the red sugary drink, but we had it all the same. The girl walked up to our table and began to tease me. I got mad. I glanced at my cup, wishing with all my heart that it would spill on her.

            The next thing I know, her all white shirt is covered in red fruit punch. She ran away crying. The last thing I saw was my cup on the floor, empty. Then, darkness.

          I ended my flashback and looked at the man. He removed his glasses. His eyes were like that of the mysterious boy’s, except the man’s were icier; colder in a way that seemed almost evil.

          “As you may have found out, Miss Malone, you are telekinetic, meaning you can move things with your mind. You may have more powers that are unknown to us, but that is why you are here: The Bank’s ResearchCenter. You may not realize this, but you could be very valuable to military intellect. Oh, what they would pay for a girl who can move things with her mind. Now all we have to do is figure out how to trigger it. If you will, please follow me into the training room,” he said as he got out of his fancy chair and walked out the door. Having no choice, Mr. Mustache and I followed him.

          We walked into a room (all white, again) and looked around. It was very large, and in it was a giant boulder. Also, there was a giant T.V. The man turned around and faced us.

          “Now, Miss Malone, move this boulder with your powers,” he said, looking me in the eye.

          “Sir, I can’t,” I said. I tried concentrating, but nothing moved.

          “Well, we will just have to get it by force,” he said. Mr. Mustache had long since left the room it was just me and him.

          The television screen came on. On the right was a man dressed in all black. In his hand, he held a whip. On the left of the screen, looking terrified, was my eight-year-old sister, Kelsey.