Subconscious - Awake

Reese Wilkoks

I was running. I didn't remember how I got there but I recognized the field. My aunt's farmhouse was to the far right, perched in the ankle-high grass. The baby blue wood panels were peeling from years of age and the white accent planks were doused in the sunlight that peaked through the gray storm clouds. The smell of dew enveloped my nose and the chicken coop came into view. Changing direction, I ran towards the little coop whilst the wind blew my golden-blonde hair across my vision. The sound of chickens clucking filled my ears; annoying, yet oddly comforting. Then beyond the rolling green hills, thunder cracked as lightning split the sky. Everything lit up, reflecting the burst of light. The storm seemed to rumble closer as if it were closing in on its prey. Another flash, another crack, creeping nearer. The next strike was right over the farmhouse and it seemed as if it was going to hit it. But it didn't. Instead, it changed direction last minute, as if it hadn't made up its mind. The white surge of electricity had positioned itself to come straight toward me. It all happened so fast. The blinding yellow that enveloped my vision was merciless and the pain hit me like a vicious wave. The extreme discomfort was soon everywhere. It felt as if I was burning alive, but I willed it to stop. I told my body to take it in, to absorb the pain, and to my surprise, it obeyed. The blinding gold that stole my vision receded as I stole a glance at my hands. Strands of golden-yellow light danced across my palms and up my arms. Suddenly, the lightning froze, trapped in time, and sunk in below my skin, leaving no trace that it was ever there on my flesh. No scars, no pain, no evidence that the event had occurred. The only thing left behind was an odd surge of energy that now pulsed through my veins. A fire seemed to burn in the back of my mind, fueling the new feeling. The power settled in my bones, making my surroundings more vibrant, and the smell of fresh rainwater was so potent, it made my brain ache, which was trying to process it all. I could feel every object in a three-mile radius as if my mind could wrap a pair of imaginary hands around anything I could see. Overwhelmed with my newly advanced senses and what had just happened, I took a slow step backward, which sent a jolt of pain up my leg. Pushing the pain away, I ran toward the house in search of my aunt. I quickly ran up the steps of the porch, heading for the front door, but stopped short when the two by four sheet of metal plating that we were going to use to do some patchwork on the roof of the chicken coop stopped me in my tracks. The metal was so shiny I could see my reflection. My nine-year-old self stared back at me, but something was different. Very different. My blue-green eyes were now a glowing gold with specks of glinting yellow. I watched my own expression in the metal morph into a confused look before my vision started to fade. Body going limp, I hit the ground with a soft thud. The last thing I remember was seeing yellow and gold smoke curl around my fingers, which had landed in front of my face. The sight burned in my head as a wave of unconsciousness dragged me down, down, down.

I tried to lift my heavy eyelids but my eyelashes just fluttered before my eyes shut again. Trying again, I caught a glimpse of light. Finally, I pried my eyes open and patiently waited for the blur of sleep to clear out. Examining my surroundings, I found I was lying on a cot in the middle of a small but tidy unrecognizable room. Sun-bleached curtains framed the window on the other side of the room while a petite, cream-colored dresser with a vanity top was nestled into a corner. The cot was surprisingly comfortable, even though the mattress looked flat.

Memories of my nightmare flooded my mind before I could begin the worry about where I was. The more I thought about it, I slowly started to realize that it wasn't a nightmare at all. It was a memory. Back when I was nine I went to my aunt's farm and spent my spring break there. I got struck by lightning. I remember waking up in the guest room in the farmhouse with my aunt and my ten-year-old cousin Rebecca handing me a glass of water saying that I had just gotten too dehydrated and passed out. But I knew differently. But when I woke up I didn't feel the energy that I had right after being struck. The surge of power was gone and the fire in the back of my mind had gone out. I hadn't felt that power until.... well when Adam hit me in the head with that umbrella. The whole situation almost made me laugh in hysteria but I stifled the action remembering the situation I was in currently. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I wasn't in any pain so that was something positive. I shakily stood up and silently wondered how long I had been asleep. My legs started towards the mirror on the vanity on their own accord. I glanced at my reflection and fortunately, unlike in my nightmare, my eyes shimmered their usual blueish-green color. I took in the rest of me slowly, looking for any evidence if I had been hurt at all. Not a scratch, only parched lips and tangled sandy blonde hair that cascaded in a heap past my shoulders. My t-shirt was crumpled and my ripped jeans' holes seemed to have stretched wider showing more skin than I'd wish to have on display but I would have to deal with it for now since I didn't really plan on being kidnapped and didn't bring a change of clothes. Just then, something caught my eye in the mirror. A figure stood in the doorway leaning casually against the frame with its arms crossed. I whipped my head around as my eyes focused on the unknown person. He had caramel brown hair that sat on his head in a nest of wavy locks. Light freckles splattered across his prominent nose and cheeks. He looked about sixteen or seventeen and was an average height for a highschool boy. And might I add he also was my kidnapper.

"You," I spat. I was not about to brush off the fact that this boy had violated my personal space bubble, even if he was handsome.

"Hey it's Theo, Theo Reynolds not 'you'" he said in an annoyingly calm tone as if he hadn't done something completely illegal. Idiot. Yeah, that's right, it had been only twelve seconds and I had already decided that I hated this guys guts.

"Where am I?" I asked putting my hands on my hips in a sad attempt to gain some pride and maybe scare him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have any effect on him whatsoever. I held back a frustrated sigh.

"The real question is, how did you stay hidden for so long?" He asked pushing his weight off of the door frame to stand on his own. There were about six paces between us and I stiffened when he took three of them.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not bothering to hide the confusion that flooded into my words. I let my hands drop as I shrunk back. I didn't want to be getting any closer to this jerk. "Hiding?" I hadn't been hiding. Wait did he mean when I hid from him in my house? 

"No, I mean how did you keep your gifts under for that long?" He said as if he were talking to a dumb two-year-old. It took me a minute to realize that the question I meant to keep in my head must have slipped out loud. "No, you didn't say it out loud," he clarified, "and no, you are not going crazy." He declared before I could think differently. It was as if he could read my thoughts like a book. I stared in curiosity, again not caring enough to mask my confusion.

"You'll figure it out," was all he said to my silent question. "Anyway, you are at one of our safe houses in Hawaii," he explained with a shrug of his shoulders, "it's cozy I guess." His gaze shifted from staring at me to the floor, then to take in my rumpled clothes. His eyes widened for a second. "That's what I forgot, clothes for you! Well crap, sorry about that." Wait, he planned on bringing extra clothes for me. Here, I was thinking he was going to kill me but, apparently, he intended on keeping me alive for a little while longer. This led me to wonder, what did he want with me?

"Oh, and your friends are here too."

Friends?

"Come on," he said, coaxing me towards the door. I took a shaky step forward, unsure if I should trust this Theo guy. Welp, I really had no other choice, and he really didn't look like a murderer. I took another step, then a couple more. What 'friends' was he talking about? I mean, sure I had friends but I hadn't spoken to them since Christmas. Unfortunately,  all of my good friends had been about three years older than me and had already graduated. They dispersed to go to different colleges so it was hard to find time to visit them. My closest friend, Lisabelle, had gotten into MIT so she was always too busy to talk. 

My feet moved on their own accord after that, taking me through the doorway to follow Theo.  We approached another room and he stuck his head in. 

"Good morning friends!" He sounded cheery, too cheery. He then motioned for me to stand next to him with a wave of his hand. As I came closer and stood next to him,  I realized what he meant by friends. 

"Hey," said Bennet in a small voice.