Who: Calvin Parker What: Breaking down When: Friday night, December 3rd, just after this (backdated) Where: Calvin's room, Parker residence Rated: PGish
Calvin’s mind remained clouded and numb as he walked home from Katie’s house, his thoughts moving like the last drops of molasses dripping from the bottle. His brain kept him in a state of denial about what had just happened just long enough for him to get to his house. He briefly considered knocking on Charlie’s door as he made his weary way to his room, but he decided against it; he needed some time to process what had happened and to lick his awful, gaping wounds. Or maybe he’d just sleep. Sleep sounded like a good idea, especially given how exhausted he suddenly felt. Slipping into his room and closing the door silently behind him, he flicked on the light…
…And lost all composure. He’d forgotten about the cranes, the hundreds of flimsy paper birds that hung from his ceiling, glaring eyelessly at him as he entered the room. Oh God. Calvin just barely made it to the bed before he collapsed on it in a sobbing heap. He was fully aware of the cultural convention that boys weren’t supposed to cry under any circumstances, but at that moment he couldn’t have cared less. It was over. He and Katie were over and it was all his fault. She had been right – he couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust anyone anymore; the visions had taken care of that. And what was worse, Katie had had a point about his visions being self-fulfilling – hadn’t he gotten upset about Luke? He wanted nothing more than to stop them from happening, and instead he just made them come true. And what could he do? Nothing. Never had Calvin felt so utterly, undeniably helpless. Was this going to be his life – seeing things that shouldn’t be seen and failing to stop them? How could he live like that, how would he ever survive?
Calvin shook, sobs wrenching through his body with such force that he was sure they would tear him apart. Why couldn’t he have had the power to rewind time, to fix his mistakes? Barring that, why couldn’t he just get away? He fervently wished he could be somewhere else, somewhere he could convince himself that this whole awful night was nothing but a dream… And his complied, throwing him into the only other place it could: the future. For once, Calvin didn’t fight the visions as they rushed up to cloud his eyes and fill his ears with unspoken words; he welcomed them, relaxing into them as if he were sinking into a warm bath. They were the cause of this new crisis, but at least for now, for a few blissful moments, they could take him out of himself and away from all of this:
A girl. Why did his visions always start with a girl? Strangely, Calvin didn’t recognize this one. She was tall, blond, developed… but the way she moved was odd, jerky, as if she wasn’t used to being in her body. He watched for a few moments, curious as he tried to place her. She seemed so familiar…
A different image slipped into focus. Lukas Fox. Calvin gritted his teeth. Suddenly, his right hand began to smart, as if his knuckles were bleeding. He watched Luke bending over his desk, muttering something as he held the two pieces of his glasses in his hands. “Little freak broke my glasses,” he muttered, clearly annoyed. As he looked up from his work, Calvin caught sight of Luke’s face – a bruise was just starting to form around his eye…
A voice. Male. Cold. Dispassionate. “She’s a liability,” it said unfeelingly. “Do what must be done.” Calvin saw someone turning to leave, heard the slamming of a door…
That creative writing teacher at school was talking to Macy. She looked upset, and Calvin shivered – he remembered well what had happened last time he’d seen Macy in a vision. Seth reached out to touch her, his fingers brushing her temples…
The next image shimmered into focus… another blonde, one he recognized: Lexie Tibbits walking down a flight of stairs. He saw her spasm as if in slow motion, his mouth opening a little as he watched her loose control of her body and tumble down the stairs, the crack of bones slammed against the ground reverberating through Calvin’s head…
This time, Calvin did not scream; he merely welcomed the oblivion of unconsciousness as it rushed up to greet him.