Echoes of Power
When the teenager opened his eyes again he felt a sharp pain in his head and was unable to suppress a groan as he tried to get up. He was lying on the cold ground he realized after a few seconds, his sight was blurry and he felt tears form at the corners of his eyes, the world was spinning all around him. With a heavy breath he once again tried to get up, his arms weak under his weight, but as he managed to get on his knees a searing white light burned its way through his mind and he groaned again as a wave of pain coursed through his body.
The teenager remained like this, breathing heavily and unable to move, his forehead pressed against the cold ground and his elbows keeping him in balance on each side of his body. Slowly he moved again, straightening his back without opening his eyes. He felt the feeling of dizziness slip away as he did so and finally, after standing up, gripping the counter to regain his balance, he opened his eyes. He saw the light of the sun pouring in the room, much weaker than what he remembered, the pans still on the cooktop, fortunately turned off.
Alexandre somehow registered that he had been unconscious for a while and mentally thanked himself for not turning it on, that could have been disastrous, then he saw the spot where the glass should have been on the counter and suddenly remembered. The young man’s head whipped towards the ground where he had last seen it and, indeed, there it was, still in one piece, standing straight on the ground. He took a tentative step towards it, almost as if moving would apply the final force to it and break the glass into pieces, but nothing happened and he bent down, massaging his head with one hand, and grabbed the glass with the other.
What the…? He thought. Did I not imagine it all? Had it been true? Had he really done what he remembered he had? How is it possible…? But despite all his might he couldn’t for the life of him come up with an explanation. He had seen the glass tumble and fall over the edge, he remembered rushing to catch it, feeling as if time had slowed down and- The word! He remembered hearing the voice telling a word to him, him repeating it and then; somehow the glass had landed safely on the ground. He put the glass back on the counter, making sure to place it at the center this time so as not to repeat the same mistake again, and took a step back.
That meant… It was real. The voice was real. That meant he wasn’t crazy. Or did it? Was he crazy for believing he wasn’t crazy when he swore he heard a voice in his head as if someone spoke directly into his brains? He didn’t know. He couldn’t know, all this was so… fucked up, yes, that was the only way he could define this situation after what had just happened. How could it all be true? He thought again, his mind trying to wrap itself around this idea. How could he have done that although everything told him it was impossible?
“I have to try again…” He had said this almost against his will but, as his mind had already realized, it was the only way to be sure, he had to try again and see for himself.