Who: Calvin and [Open to Jacen, Emily, James, Penny and Katie] What: Losing control When: during the camping trip, June 20th Rating: PG-13ish for disturbing stuff Status: Solo, but open to response (although Calvin's done)
As usual, Calvin wasn’t particularly excited about the last day of school. True, he wouldn’t have to deal with big, dumb bullies or pointless classroom busywork anymore, but he’d still miss the structure of classes, not to mention the routine of seeing Katie in the halls. Summer meant less time studying math and physics and more time working. Since Evan’s amazing and wonderful father had just hired him as a full-time belayer for the summer, Calvin was simultaneously excited and saddened. It would be nice to be able to actually buy cool things for Katie, but, on the other hand, his work would keep him from seeing her as much as he’d like. Perhaps now that her leg was inexplicably better he could convince her to try climbing some more.
The camping trip was well-timed; it gave him a chance to transition from school to summer, even if the turnaround time was only a weekend. He had never been terribly good at camping, but the one job he could (and did) happily offer to do was collecting firewood. He might not have had the same connection with nature that Emily did, but there was something special about being in the woods, surrounded by the trees, the fresh air, the leaf-filtered sunlight. Calvin took a deep breath of fresh air, smiling a little as he reached down to pick up one stick, then another. He had a little bundle when the sweet call of a nearby bird distracted him, and he turned his eyes up a little, just catching the fluttering outline of a swallow silhouetted against the leaves. Calvin smiled, following the shadow with his vision, tracing the curve of the wings, the high, powerful notes, and— a sudden flash of sun in his eyes—
—There was a girl. Short. Curvy. Asian-looking. Silky black hair billowing behind her as she ran through the grass, her bare feet kicked up clumps of new grass, freshly mown—Katie. Katie. A thousand paper cranes. There they were, hanging from a ceiling. “I wish,” she was whispering, “I wish…”—There was a bird, soft, light, featherless, and fluttering around a shadowy room with desolate walls. It flew from a set of hands, tan, dexterous hands. It flew, came back, flew… and it wasn’t real—And there he was, Calvin J. Parker, curled up fetus-like on his bed, eyes wide open, seeing nothing, everything, everything, and screaming, screaming—There was a statue, glinting gold, standing in majesty as the sun danced off of its face. That face. Someone… familiar—“He’s dead.”—There she was again, the mystery girl, only this time she had shoes. She stood on the playground, dark eyes looking intensely at… something. The jungle gym? No. Not that jungle gym. The jungle gym was a mass of twisted metal. He could hear it, scraping, twisting. No more. No more. Nothing but junk—“Oh my God. Oh my God. Macy? Macy!”—Macy Jones. There she was, prone on the ground, gentle eyes open and staring, staring. Lifelessly. Oh God. Oh God—Birdsong—“She’s too dangerous, Emma! Too unstable. She can’t come here; she could jeopardize everything!” “Nonsense Jacob. She’s perfectly safe. They know what they’re doing”—Screaming. Whose? Calvin couldn’t hear over the rush of wings—“But what about Calvin’s prediction? What if it all comes true?”—Too unstable. Too unstable. She could jeopardize everything—There was the mystery girl, eyes flashing, the world seeming to stop, to start, to move around her. She rose into the air and—“Dead.”—Too unstable—Birdsong. Wings. Screaming—
And the clatter of Calvin’s sticks as they all fell to the ground, his own limp body quick to follow. Calvin couldn’t even hear himself scream before he slipped from the awful world of his disjointed vision into the dark, cold realm of unconsciousness.