Saint Joseph School

"The Visit"


The room was pitch black. The windows didn’t allow light to past through, as they were covered by blinds and curtains.

Soft breathing could be heard along with sounds of a box opening covering the breaths. “Okay…here I go,” Damian muttered. His breaths became deeper as he fidgeted around “I can do dis, I know I can.”

Softly light spilled into the room, revealing shadowed casts of objects throughout, his gloves could slightly be seen lying on his dresser. A smile appeared on Damian’s face as the beam hit one side of it. Sitting on the floor in the middle of the room he held a bulb in his right hand, the glow becoming a little stronger slicing through.

“Dis is so cool,” he smirked with winning laugh, holding up his other non-gloved hand to look at it. “I can make a light bulb work, without tha lamp, dat's crazy.” Extending his hand towards an electrical socket the smile left his face as a more serious look came over it.

“Wonda how much powa I can put through it?” he asked himself, concentrating on the bulb, splitting his focus to the socket as he drained electricity from it. The bluish white tendrils arced from the source to the palm of his hand, forming a ball in the middle.

He grunted as the dry sounding crackle filled the room. Slamming his eyes shut he grimaced, meditating on both objects, trying to keep a perfect connection to them both. He gritted his teeth as sweat rolled down his face.

“Ah…shit,” he muttered as electricity from his hand bent off the bead rolling down his cheek. He laughed a little, as the current danced on the droplet not even shocking him. Focused on the objective he transferred more energy into the sphere, causing the light in the room to grow larger.

The shadows retreated as they found refuge in the corners of the room, the only area where light hadn’t touched yet. Looking around he smiled, he had a full view of his room. The doorbell rang against the background clamor of static and the hum of the now rapid glimmering bulb.

“Damian!” His mother yelled upstairs, breaking his attentiveness. Accidentally he sent a surge through the bulb causing it to burst. The orb he held in his other hand did the same as it sent a flood of power back through the socket causing everything plugged in to short out.

“Damian!” his mom sharply yelled, “You shorted everything out…AGAIN”

“Sorry…sorry, I was jus,” he stopped his rebut, as defeat crossed his face. Once again he couldn't see his hands.

“Come and get the door, you have a guest.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered as he picked himself up from the ground. Sticking his hands straight out in front of him he tried to feel his way out the room. It didn’t help too much as he bumped into the desk that separated his bed from the door. “Dammit,” he scowled, reaching for the door.

The radiance in the hallway caused his pupils to adjust. His mother had already lined the hallway with candles; the stairwell had been lit also. From the stairs he could see his mother opening windows downstairs allowing daylight to rip through the shade. It was apparent that she hit super speed once the lights turned off, but not before yelling at Damian.

“Mom, I thought ya had Longbow stuff ta do?” He called from the second to last step.

She looked back at him, aggravation on her face. “Yea…I did, but we got to the hero, the day was saved.” She turned away from him, setting her attention back to what she was doing “It’s a good thing I was here, what are ya trying to do? Black out the whole neighborhood?”

“No ma’am,” he answered, stepping down the stairs. His head held low. The change to his powers caused a stun to his confidence. Controlling them proved to be a lot harder than before, too much excitement, or a break in concentration, even drastic emotional changes could cause him to lose it.

“It’s okay Damian, it took me a while to learn how to control my powers too,” she said walking over to him. Her hand gently touched his cheek as she looked up into his eyes. “You’ll catch on.’Til then… go outside, ya don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Her?” Damian asked, confused. He tried to figure out who it was, more or less why his mom left her outside. “You didn’t invite her in mom, dat’s kind of rude.”

His mom looked at him again, “are you serious, look around Damian.” She commanded gesturing to the living room, “No lights…that’s your fault.” She said pointing a finger at him. “Not to mention I was super speedin’ around the house. Just go get the door!”

He figured he wouldn’t worsen the situation and decided to listen to his mothers words. Damian opened the door looking forward, seeing no one. He looked to his left before hearing a soft voice.

“Hey D,” she spoke from his right; Damian could hear the smile on the girl's voice.

Damian looked to the girl. She had her hands in her jean pockets, her back leaned against the house. “Tabitha?”

“Yea, long time no see.” She stepped forward off the house turning to him, spreading her arms to hug him.

Damian stepped back a little, his eyes widening in shock. Tabitha Reiney was the last person he would expect to see, let alone at his mom's front door. She was the reason he was at SJS in the first place. The cheerleader that he'd dated back at Prescott.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” She dropped her arms to her side, a look of confusion crossing her face. It definitely wasn’t the reaction she expected.

“Don’ touch meh.”

“What?” she asked, “why?”

“Jus’ don’…I still don’ know how ta control it,” he answered. He didn't want her to feel alienated. He looked at his bare hands, wishing he remembered where he'd left his gloves. “the gloves I usually wear help me ground maself.”

“Okay,” she softly replied pushing a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.

Closing the door behind him, Damian looked at her. Not much had changed in four months, she still had her athletic build, and it was obvious she was a gymnast. He tried not to look her in the eyes, the same piercing green eyes that caught him the first time they'd met and every time after. Her skin was smooth, a nice mahogany color. Her hair did seem a little longer. “What are you doing here, Tabitha?”

“What, I need an invitation to come and see my boyfriend?” Smiling she reached out for his hand, ignoring his warning. Damian using reflex and slightly more resentment of the words she just spoke pulled his hand away before she could touch him. A frown came over her face at the rejection. “What the hell, D?”

“I jus’ told ya, no control,” he answered holding up his hands. “An' besides I told ya, I’m not wearin’ ma gloves.”

“So?”

Damian decided to ignore her last statement, “Boyfriend?” He shot out.

“Duh. I mean…we've been dating since we were freshmen, D? Did you forget about me or something.” She giggled. “You sure you aight, baby?”

“Don’ call me dat. We haven’t talked in four months Tabitha. As soon as ya saw da sparks, you dropped meh like I was a disease. What, was datin’ a freak bad fa ya social status?”

Tabitha looked at him, then turned her head away. She would always turn away from Damian when she was confronted with the truth. It was always like she had to think of something to say, a lie to get her back on top of the situation. In the past Damian would always fall for it. “Of course not, D, don't be silly. I was surprised, an’ scared. I just needed time, that's all.”

“Ya could of said somethin’.” He couldn't help it; hurt crept into his voice.

“I know, that’s why I’m here now. I called your house a couple days ago and asked your mom when you would be home.” she stepped forward before remembering his warnings, stopping before she got too close. “I-I wanted to make things right,” she bit her bottom lip as her eyes dropped from his. “I’m sorry, D. I’m sorry I left you out to dry like that.” She looked back up, her eyes pleading. “Can we…pick up where we left off? I promise I'll be there for you this time. No matter what.”

“I can’t,” he said firmly. “I won’t, Tabitha.”

“What?” In disbelief she stepped away. “What do you mean you won't? You just gonna throw away all that we have?” She raised her voice as it shook slightly. Her expression changed, turning worried. “It’s someone else?” she spoke in a whisper, “you met someone else?”

Damian turned away, shrugging.

“Damian, answer me.” She squinted her eyes at him, her face appearing vengeful. “Guess ya went to Freak High and found yaself a true freak, huh.” She smirked at Damian as he turned back to her, “doesn’t really matter, she’s only with you for tha same reason I was…you’re a meal ticket football star. Your going state for the third time, EVERY college scouts gonna be looking at you.”

“What?” the truth of why she was really with him stung. He stood there limply as electricity passed through his eyes. His right hand began to charge with static. “Don’ talk about her like dat, you don’ know a damn thing about her.”

Tabitha shook her head, with a leer and a chuckle. “If you say so D, just keep in mind… she’s NEVER gonna do you like I did.” She grinned at Damian. “See ya around, Dozer.” She blew him a kiss before leaving the porch.

"Remnants"

The air was cold. Damian exhaled slightly as his breath could be seen leaving his mouth. He was outside, doing what he did to calm himself after a long hard day.

The compound bow his parents brought him for his 16th birthday sat off to his left rested across the patio table. His leather arrow case accented it as the laptop he brought out with him sat adjacent from it.

Things had been slightly weird for Damian; he had adjusted to SJS, and loved every minute of being there. He had brand new friends, better friends, people that had his back no matter what and would be there when he needed them. They were exactly alike, special, so he didn’t have to worry about them turning like his old associates had.

He even managed to get with Kena, something he thought wouldn’t happen. She was so different from the girls that he had dated. Calm, collected, and she kept to herself. A definite difference from the social butterflies that loved to party, drink and whatever else.

So, why was his past haunting him? Why did it bother him so much to know that bridges he once could cross with no problem had been swept away by sidewinder missiles? Tabitha coming to his house didn’t make the situation any better. It just confused it, even more.

He glanced at his bow before picking it up. He placed it on the arrow rest, prepping to re-tune it. He covered his necessary steps to ensure that the arrow was placed center shot. The last thing he wanted was for it to come out and then 10 feet down its course veer high right.

Damian had been shooting arrows for a long time now, his first time ever touching a bow was when he was 6. His granddad showed him when he went to North Carolina to visit him one summer. His mom didn’t like that too much; all his dad could do was laugh and ensure his wife that his pops knew what he was doing.

Those were the days that he wished he could have back. Time spent with his grandfather. He passed away when Damian was 10. He was the reason he strived to do his best on the field and in the classroom. He would always tell him that if he was going to do something, to give it hell. “Don’t half ass it, boy. Be better than the rest, a Singleton is never last.” The Carolina accent echoed in his mind as he picked up an arrow that sat outside its case.

The arrow head on it was bunt. Used for dealing a stunning shot, or just a practice one. Damian looked down his path towards the target that stood in the middle of his backyard. A sensor was attached to it; cables flowed from it, streaming back towards his direction as it connected to the laptop.

Strength and speed were what he was going for. It was all he ever went for when he “calmed” his nerves. Letting every memory, every ounce of anger, every degree of confusion leave his mind attached to the arrow he would release.

The sensor would read his FPS (Feet per second) and Damian wouldn’t stop until he reached a goal that surpassed his previous. “372.” He mumbled to himself remembering his last time.

He reached into his pocket pulling out his Zune and pressed play, un-pausing the song he’d been listening to prior. Music could be heard leaving the ear buds as he closed his eyes and placed one into his left ear, leaving his right ear open to hear the laptop as it called out his FPS. He opened them, gripping his bow from its rest.

The music for him was a way to zone out. It helped with the thinking process someway, allowing him to reflect over the memoirs and purge the waste not needed. The song cycling through his ear was from Tech N9ne’s Everready album called Little Pills.

As it played Damian inhaled then exhaled slowly, listening to the tunes, syncing himself as he fell into a meditative state. This was the first step in his process. He raised the bow into the air pointing the arrowhead directly at the target. His left arm was outstretched, parallel to the ground as it held the bow in place. His right arm bent slightly as his hand gripped the end of the arrow and the cable.

He drew back, breathing in again, then let go. The arrow ripped through the air slicing it in two as the wisp could be heard ringing in Damian’s right ear. “Two-hundred forty-seven” The laptop blared off in a females tone. He looked back at the laptop as the red numbers flashed over the program on the screen.

“Dat’s weak.” He sighed, grabbing another arrow from his assortment that lie across the table, ensuring not to grab one of the sharp ended ones.

He closed his eyes again, arrow in hand as his mind shot back to the coaching of his Grandfather.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It ain’t bout power, boy!” his words echoed as he walked around Damian who was locked in the position, ready to fire his arrow. “It’s about finesse. Power means nothin’ if ya don’ know what the hell your doin’…you understand?”

“Yes sir!” The younger version of Damian shot back, the arm holding the arrow and the cable at the ready shook slightly as his face grimaced from the time he held in that form.

“Keep ya eyes on tha target, don’ let ‘em off. Zone out, an’ breathe.” His grandfather instructed as Damian released.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Three-hundred fifty-six” The lap top rang out again as Damian opened his eyes.

A smile creased the corners of his mouth as his grandfather’s words ricocheted in his head. “That’s a lil’ betta.”

Music continued to blare in his ear, the previous song ending but, his trance continued to linger. His mood changing with the music, another arrow lay at his side, his hand finding it and bringing it to its respective spot.

His mind drifted off again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A black Escalade truck stopped at the gates of Saint Joseph’s school. Damian hesitated as he looked through them. This was the last place he wanted to be. Not only was it “Freak high”, it was his old schools rival. He was sure that people already knew of him, and if not…the football team sure as hell did.

He sighed slouching in the passenger seat as he towed the hood of his Prescott High pull-over on top of his head to hide his face.

“You gonna get out Damian?” his mother spoke up, turning in the driver’s seat to face him. Her accent carried on, reflecting her British background. She was Egyptian, but, her family moved to London when she was about 5.

“No.” he mumbled finding extra inches of refuge in his seat. “I don’ wanna be here mum.”

‘Well, maybe you should of thought about that before you used your powers on that boy.” She looked at her watch, remembering the meeting she had to go to. “You’re gonna have ta make a decision Damian, I recommend it involves you getting out the vehicle.” She pulled the hood off his head so she could see his face. “I have a meeting to attend, Damian. I caan’t be here with you. You’ll be fine; Janine will look out for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Three hundred twenty-five” The FPS had dropped, causing Damian to grit his teeth in response.

“Dammit” he spat reaching for another arrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sooo…freak high, huh D?” The voice from over the phone laughed.

“Yea man”

“How was ya first day…run into any REAL freaks. I heard some things about those catholic girls. I bet they look so hot in those school girl plaid skirts.” The boy chuckled, “man… you gotta invite me over…please.” He pleaded.

Damian laughed as he shook his head, “Yea…there are some hotties ova here…even the blue chicks.”

“Blue chicks? Dude, ya serious?”

“Yea…I’m serious.” He answered pausing quickly afterwards. “So, how’s the football team holding up, Zeek?”

“Dude…it’s us, com’on, ya know we will be aight. Did you get on the team yet?”

“Yea.”

“Aw man…you playin’ for tha enemy. Don’t go easy on us aight, ‘specially the guys. Can’t believe they turned on you like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit!” he missed. He lowered the bow as he looked on to the target. He couldn’t believe that they turned on him like that either. They were supposed to be his friends; she was supposed to be his girl.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he purged the memory from his mind. It was bad energy, something he didn’t need to carry on anymore.

He looked back up, taking his mind back into trance. His MP3 had cycled over a number of songs. Landing on “Let Go” from RED.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To Damian, the lady in front of the class sounded like Charlie Brown’s mom. Her words went in one ear and out the other, but, in some weird way of osmosis, Damian would remember everything she said and ace any test that would come to him. He guessed he got that from his mom.

He looked around the class, catching mixed looks, stares of hate from the guys and stares of flirtatious curiosity from the girls. He had been at SJS for about a month now, and played in a couple games, so…he was becoming known to the student body, all sides and groups.

The bell rung and class was over. Damian rose from his seat to leave the class entering the hallway. The halls were cluttered and resembled everything of a public “normal” high school.

Couples kissed, hugged and held hands, either on their way to their classes or in front of someone else’s locker if not their own. The athletes filled the halls with letterman jackets, and the Chess Club with pocket protectors. Even in this not so normal high school, typical high school scenes filled the halls as bullies targeted and engaged their victims for their daily lunch money pay off.

For a super powered High school, nothing really seemed that different from a regular one. Damian got to his locker, and one of those couples he saw earlier was there. Posted at his locker making out.

“Damn…get a room, an’ get da hell from in front of ma locker.” He called over the clamor of mixed voices that bombarded the hallway.

“My fault Dozer, eh good game Friday dude.” The teen said, breaking his lips from his girl for just enough time to allow the Cornerback to get to his locker.

Damian looked on, eyes locked on the objective that was his combination pad. “Dozer”, he thought….”that’s right, I do go by Dozer now, don’t I.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Three hundred fifty-nine” The voice blended into another memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Green 59, Green 59…set, Hike!” Prescott’s quarterback and Damian’s old friend Tybalt called over the roaring Panther home crowd. Damian stayed in his position reading the opposing player, another friend, as he tried to break away from him to catch a pass. Sweeping in, Damian knocked the ball from the hands of the receiver, waving his arms as he mocked the incomplete call.

The fans booed the play, him especially. HE was a traitor to his old team, and if they could help it, they would make him look like a traitor to his new one. A squad that he had to work hard to get on, not only that, he had to work hard to gain their trust and the Panthers threw that trust in the middle of a thinly iced pond. Damian, if he wanted to prove his side, had to get it back.

Grimalkin had been threatening him all game, saying he would tell his team something to have all of them turn their backs on him. Something that he had nothing to do with, but which flyer would believe that. He is a former panther after all.

“Yo, D….they still call you that, right? No…they don’t, it’s “Dozer” now, right?” Grimalkin chuckled shaking his head as he lined up against Damian. “It’s so sad, you’re a freak dude and even tha freaks don’t like you. No one likes a traitor.”

“I’m not a traitor; I didn’t give you that playbook!” Damian yelled from behind his facemask.

“Think they’ll buy that?” Grimalkin laughed as Tybalt called for the ball. Rage filled Damian as he thought why the hell would someone that he considered a friend turn on him so fast, just because he was different. He didn’t ask for this, it just happened. It’s not his fault he’s different.

Gritting his teeth and biting into his mouth piece Damian stepped to the side as his old associate launched off the line, he knew what it would look like, it would look like he was letting his mark go. Oh, but were they in for a surprise. To him, this was the way he would prove his innocence, turn on a friend.

Rage still boiled as he grabbed Grimalkin’s facemask, using every ounce of power to lift the kid off the ground. When that feat was complete he drove him back into the ground, head and shoulders first. Hovering over the kid, Damian looked down at him, “F*** you!” he yelled spitting out his mouth guard and pointing a finger at him as his team came over to pull him away from the player.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Three Hundred eighty-nine” The voice chirped. Damian looked at the laptop again, this time with no smile on his face as the red numbers blinked in front of him.

Electricity shot back and forth in his eyes as the former memory bounced around in his mind. He thought about all his old friends, well those that he thought were friends. How they turned on him and tried to turn his new friends against him.

He didn’t know that being in the popular clique would have ended like that. Electricity escaped to his finger tips as he reached for the next arrow.

Snarling he put the arrow in its respectful place, his mind was no longer on SJS, or what the difference between power and finesse was, not even his girlfriend. It was on the girl that came to his house uninvited, unwanted. He pulled the arrow back as it charged with his power, the bow disintegrating as it was slowly replaced with electricity that took its form, the arrow doing the same.

Even with the personal million dollar light show, Damian didn’t notice, his anger didn’t break, blinding him. Rage just cycled as he thought over the 3 years that he’d been with her, were they wasted?

Her voice mocked him as he held his form, “I Love you, D.” “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Her face contorted as she looked at him, his fists charging in the bluish-white light that circled around them. “Tab, wait” he choked as he reached out for her, her voice raising several octaves as don’t touch me escaped, followed by her running out of the class room.

“We can work this out D; I will be there for you.”

“No.”

“She will never do you like I did” “She’s only with you for the same reasons I was…you’re a meal ticket football star.”

The words echoed in Damian’s head as he blocked out the music, no longer in his trance. He had succumbed to anger and hatred as he let the arrow disappear from its home leaving a long streak of blue from his hand to the target, knocking it off of its stand and through the 12 foot fence that separated his yard from his neighbors, almost 20 yards away.

“Unreadable…Error.” The program spoke in its calm automated voice, as it was pulled off the patio table by the target, snatching Damian back into reality as he looked at the lawn lights flicker, tendrils of blue danced along the blades of grass crawling out of existence as they fled the area. He looked down at the laptop as five bold red letters flashed on the screen, repeatedly.

ERROR.