Chapter Six: The Fox Talks

After detention Patrick invited me over to his house to spend the weekend. He lived just down the street from me so my mom agreed to let me go. Patrick had a nice house that sat quietly on the outskirts of Tradius. His house was about the same size as my house but it had a certain system to it which I really enjoyed. After saying my goodbyes and recieving the standard "be on your best behavior" lecture, I left for the Fox's house. The first step out of my front door revealed a scene beautiful enough to be featured on the cover of a post card. Tradius was a small town, but not in the cliche "everyone knows your name" sense. Our town was made of small, well built, family owned buildings and as long as you didn't draw attention to yourself, you would be accepted. I stopped for a moment infront of Patrick's house. The house's facade featured a concrete porch and two stone pillars that loyally held the rest of the house in place. The curvy, black driveway led around the side of the brick building to a garage, which led into the house's basement. The sun was just setting by the time I stepped through the threshold of the old house's front door. I was immediatly greeted by Patrick's mom and dad. I really liked to be around Mr. Fox. It seemed like he was almost never home, so when he was the entire family took on a certain happiness that was very contagious. I thought about what happened during math class that day with Patrick and I couldn't wait until I had opprotunity to speak with him privately about it. That would have to wait though because as soon as we got to his house, his mom had dinner on the table and the interigation began. How was your day, what did you do, where did you go, what are you guys doing tonight, did you read this artical in the paper, Patrick did you take up the trash, do you like what we had for dinner, did you get enough to eat, did you bring everything your going to need for this weekend, and so many more questions! It was 8:30 before Patrick and I were able to escape his parents and make it to the safe haevan that was his basement. There were two big leather chairs, a big T.V, all kinds of action figures, and baseball decorations lined the walls. We ran down the stairs and plopped down in the chairs. Patrick started with "How did you do that thing in class today?" then I told him everything, the feeling, the communication with Stephanie, how the feeling worked, I had never talked to anyone about the meditation before because I was afraid of what people would think about me, but Patrick sat and listened to the entire story. "So have you been able to move anything yet?"he asked. I told him what happened during detention and how horrible I felt about it.

"Tim, your my best friend, and I'm not trying to be an ass here, but I don't how I can believe that, you have to admit, you sound like a crazy person!" he said

"I don't know how to prove it to you, last time I tried to move something, somebody got hurt, I just don't know if I'm willing to take that chance again. I'd feel terrible if I did something that even accidently hurt you."

Patrick thought for a long time time. Atleast it seemed like a long time, in all actuality it was probably only a couple of minutes, but I was so anxious to hear what he had to say time slowed down for me. He was sitting perfectly still with a confused look on his face. Still wearing the blue "Life is Good" T-shirt and blue jeans he had on in school that day. Usually Patrick's only weakness was that he talked too much, but at this point he seemed at a loss for words. After what seemed an eternity his expression changed.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed.

"What?" I said

"You said that during that feeling, you can feel everything that's in the room with you right?"

I responded in the affirmative and he told me close my eyes. Patrick's idea was brilliant, he scoured his house top to bottom and found 5 different metal figures that were around the same size. He had a star, a bird, a ball, a cube, and an old pewter army man. I would put myself in a trans, he would hold up one of the objects, I would tell him it was without looking and that would prove that I could do what I said I could do. After a few hours of playing that game he seemed convinced. I was really happy to finally have someone that I could talk to about what was happening to me. The clock struck midnight and we found ourself sitting on the blue carpeting in his basement playing with action figures.

"You gonna have to learn to move stuff eventually" he blurted out

"What, why?" I inquired

"Come on, its obvious, your like a superhero or something! You have to learn how to move stuff if your ever going to do anyone any good."

He got up and went to his bedroom. When he came back he was holding a stack of old X-Men comics.

"See this guy? He moves stuff with his mind and people love him!" he said exciditly.

"Well there's not really a manuel for doing this Patrick. I mean I have no idea where I could even start! I know I would have to be having the feeling to be able to move anything, I just don't know what I have to do once I start."

Patrick set his action figure down next to him. He looked around himself for a moment before picking up the pewter army man.

"Try to move this" he said calmly

"Are you nuts? Do you like having that hand?" I asked.

"It's different Tim, you hated DeeJay but you and me are friends. When you explained that feeling to me you told me how it changes based on your mood. Right now we're completely calm, we're in a safe place, what could go wrong?"

I was completely dumbfounded. I couldn't believe Patrick actually wanted me to try this again. Not only that he wanted me to try, but that he trusted me enough to put his own life on the line to prove that I could do anything. I started to sweat. I didn't want to do this and I tried to think of any reason possible that I shouldn't, but I knew Patrick would combat any awnser I gave him other than yes. The feeling already started. It was just Patrick and I in a colorless room. I could feel that Patrick's heart was racing as fast as mine was. I had no problem feeling the army man resting gently on Patrick's open palm but moving it was entirely different. The army man stood about an inch tall, but to me it was a mountain. Trying to move the army man felt like pushing as hard as I could against a wall. It was physically exhausting, I found I was actually breaking a sweat by thinking so hard. Just when I thought I couldn't push the figure any harder, something finally gave in. Patrick's jaw dropped and I could feel the goosebumps start from the back of his neck and move their way down his spine. Levitating a few cenimeters above his hand, the army man was floating, unsupported and heavier than anything I had ever lifted. After a few seconds, I set the figure back down then blacked out.

Chapter Five: Movers and Shakers

Before I delve into what happened during my meditation that night I feel obligated to tell you that the following events led me down a long, dangerous road. Please keep in mind while you are reading, I don't consider myself to be a "bad guy" I was only ten years old when this happened. Infact I'm still not sure what I could have done differently to prevent me from being here in the first place.

I went downstairs and got a shower because I found it helpful to have as few distractions as possible. Still wet and naked I started my meditation the same as always, sitting perfectly still, legs crossed, palms turned upwards and took a deep breath. By this point in time I was able to put myself in a very deep trans just by following those simple steps. However tonight something was different. While normally after I start "the feeling" I can only feel what is in the room with me, this time I could still feel the new girl, as if she was laying down right next to me. She was still beautiful as ever, she was wearing white pajamas with little monkeys dancing around holding bananas. I could see her, I could feel her, I could even smell her, it was as real as seeing her in real life, only she couldn't see me. It looked like she was asleep, lying perfectly still on my bed. I reached my hand out and brushed her hair out of her face, she cutely sighed and rolled over in bed. I considered my options carefully before deciding to talk to her. "Hi there" I said. She screamed and got up, "How did you get in my room?" she yelled "Where are you?" she screamed. I had no idea what to do, I was scared out of my mind so I immediatly stopped meditating and crawled under the covers in my bed. I hate to admit this, but after I got over the fear, I felt better than ever. I had just achieved the impossible, I could do anything through meditation if I put my mind to it. If I could communicate with someone just by using my mind, the book from the library might not be fake after all! I quickly ran across my room and found the book, turned it to the chapter about telekinesis and read as fast as I could. I spent all night following the directions in the book but I simply couldnt get even smallest thing to move.I decided it would be for the best if I stopped trying for the moment and just got some sleep. I dreamt about her, I thought of how beautiful she was, then I thought of her screaming and how terrified she must be of me. The next morning at school the new girl followed me into the boys bathroom.

"How the hell did you get in my room last night." I thought for a moment before responding

"I wasn't in your room, I dont even know you!"

She slowly walked towards me and shoved me to the wall with her arm against my chest, I knew I was starting to fall into the feeling but I tried to fight off the urge.

"My name is Stephanie Trixie, If you ever come near me ever again, I will kill you, do you understand me?"

"Yes" I responding with a cracking voice

"I said do you understand me?" she screamed while pushing me even harder against the wall. At this point I was almost unable to breathe because of the pressure on my chest

"Yes, yes I understand you, yes, yes, yes!" I gasped.

"Good, it's been a pleasure Tim, hope I never see you again." she released me and I fell to the ground gasping for air. Breathing heavily I watched her as she walked away, I knew I had to make her mine.

I got up, brushed myself off and headed to math class. On the way to class I thought about her, how could a girl be effecting me this much? I couldn't understand why I liked her so much, she hated me, thought I was a stalker, and threatened to kill me! I walked down the hall and made the right into the classroom when Mrs. Hal sqawked

"Mr. Banks, your late!"

"Sorry Mrs. Hal, I was in the bathroom."

"Don't bother Mr. Banks, you can explain yourself in detention!"

I walked agrily back to my seat next to Patrick and sat down. Mrs. Hal was a very serious woman. She was about 5' 6", but always seemed much larger because of the way she presented herself. I knew she had kids of her own, but I couldn't imagine what they would be like. I did try to keep an open mind though, everyone has their own flaws. Throughout the class I wasn't really paying attention because math didn't interest me, instead I decided to try my luck at telekinesis again. I quickly found out that when I focused on something I really enjoyed or someone I really liked, it was much easier to put myself in a trans. I figured since Patrick was right there, I would just focus on him to put myself into trans and start the feeling. Patrick at the time looked just like me. A little bit chubby, about 4' 3", we had the same short brown hair, wore the same types of clothes, people often mistook as for brothers, and we may as well have been.

This is another very valuable lesson: having even just one friend, is one of the most powerful things in the world. I understand that when your on the outside looking in (or in my case the inside looking out) life seems a lot easier to comprehend. Just take my advice, if you have a best friend, do everything in your power to keep that person around.

When the feeling started I could feel Patrick taking notes, every pencil stroke in slow motion, every noise he was making, all the way down to his heart beat. I remembered how I had been able to communicate with Stephanie telepathically, so I should be able to do the same with Patrick. Focusing on him, I was able for the first time to actually move my physical body, open my eyes and see the real world, as well as the "feeling" world around me. I knew I could talk to him if I focused hard enough. I thought the word "Patrick" in my head over and over and over again as loud as my brain would think, until just when I almost gave up I decided to try one more time, as soft as I could I thought the words "Can you hear me?" he responded outloud with "Why wouldn't I?" and as he turned his head, he saw I wasn't moving my lips.

"That's awesome! How are you doing that!" he yelled.

"Mr. Fox if you don't quiet down this instant you will be serving detention with Mr.Banks after school!" crooned Mrs. Hal.

Immediatly after school I went straight to the detention room so I wouldn't get in any more trouble than I already was. When I arrived I saw him, DeeJay was sitting in the front row already doing homework. I hated him, anger built up inside me, if I wasn't afraid of him I probably would have tried to fight him; but I knew he would win. I decided it would be best if I tried to remain unnoticed. The feeling started again, but this time it changed. This was no longer a feeling of passion, or of happiness, it was a feeling of anger. I focused as hard as I could on his pencil, hoping to make him break the tip or maybe make him screw up whatever he was writing about, anything to make him as angry as I was. I was so engulfed in the feeling that I hadn't even noticed the other people that had come into the room since I had been there, including the teacher and several other students. Mr. Sweet (the supervisior for detention that day) was taking atendence of people who were supposed to be in detention. As my last name rolled off of his tounge two events happened similtaniously.The first event was a loud crack, like when a jet breaks the sound barrier, followed by small peieces of wooden shrapnel flying at dangerous speeds in all directions. Having no idea what happened, I immediatly dropped to the floor and covered my ears, when I looked up DeeJay was looking, gapjawed at his own mangled hand. Blood started to stream down his arm while Mr. Sweet rushed to aid the wounded boy. Mr.Sweet was type of person that seemed to know an awful lot, but never showed it. He stood about six feet tall and was a fat, but muscular man. It seemed to me that everytime I saw Mr. Sweet he was sweating, but he always smelled like he had just gotten a shower. I wouldn't know until later in my life that this man served in the U.S Army for 10 years as a fied medic. Apparently his experience in the feild served him well. He tore off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around the mess of flesh and bone that currently resided were DeeJay's hand used to be.

"Detention is dismissed, everybody out now!"

Everyone quickly rushed out of the room but I still couldn't believe what happened. I was in awe and shock at the same time. I didn't mean to hurt him, I didn't hate him as much as I thought. I broke down, I couldn't take the guilt, I was just a kid and everything was happening way too fast. I slid down the wall outside of the detention room and sulked there for ten minutes before EMTs started showing up and I knew I had to leave.

Chapter Four: The Girl Next Door

Patrick had seen the new girl aswell and had the same "observations" I had. We ended up talking about girls in general and Patrick kept going on and on about how he wanted a girlfriend. I didn't really see the point back then, as far as I was concerned they couldn't do anything for me, they didn't like the same things I did, and most of them thought I was weird.

"Alright listen, if I got a girlfriend people would stop treating me like such an ass all the time you know? I don't want to be "that guy" but-"

"Either of you boys want to buy a school newspaper?"

It was her, and as soon as I saw her it happened again. Everything went colorless, the entire cafeteria went completely still. I could feel her soft warm skin, her supple lips, her soft hair, everything around me became part of me, and I became everything around me. And just as fast as it came it was gone.

"Well do you want one or not?" she said with a smile.

"Uhh, yeah... Of course!" I laughed stupidly and handed her a crinkled up dollar bill

"Thanks a lot!" she said as she walked away.

"Bye, I mean, see you... later!" and forced a weak smile.

"Dude that was pathetic" Patrick chimed in with a laugh

"Shut-up!" I moaned and hit him in the arm.

I thought about her non stop from that moment in lunch until I fell asleep that night. I thought about what she was doing, what she was wearing, where she was, how she was, and for that matter, who she was! I still had no idea what her name was but I think at that point in time I would have taken a bullet for her. That night while I was thinking about her was the first time my meditation had ever brought me anything truly useful, in the form of a blessing and a curse.

Chapter Three: Practice Makes Perfect

Over the next three weeks I had obsessed about that feeling, I was an addict after just one dose, I had to be able to replicate it. I talked with Patrick and he said he would ask his mom if she knew anything about it, and that I should do the same. My mom had been, at the time, a psychologist for special needs children so I figured if my experience was psychological she would be able to help. She told me that when your body experiences something traumatic it will release a chemical called adrenaline that can make all kinds of weird stuff happen, and that it was relativly normal to experiance those sorts of things. My mom also suggested that if I wanted to try to replicate the experience I should try meditation because meditating would give me more control over my body. Patrick's mom however practiced wholeistic medicine and believed that as DeeJay was kicking me, he might have actually hit my spinal cord and that I should see a doctor to make sure no permanent damage was done. Being in the shape that I was, I was in no hurry to see a doctor, so I kept Mrs. Fox's information to myself. I decided to try meditation and found I was insanely good at it. I could have myself in a complete trans in just under two minutes and within a month I could replicate the feeling exactly. I started to consume any information about meditation like a wild fire, and I loved it. I could physically lower my body tempature, slow time down, hold my breath for extreme amounts of time and it felt great. But one time when I was at the library in Tradius, I found a book about meditation that had a chapter labled "Telekinesis and Meditation." This chapter of the book said that people under a very deep trans could become so in tune with the world that they could feel and even move objects with their minds. I completely discarded the information, because I knew it was fake and continued reading about how to better myself at medition. Stop here for a moment and take a lesson. Unless you have seen with your own two eyes that it doesn't exist, assume that it is real. I'm not saying to be unrealistic, but there are things humans are capable of far beyone what we have ever been taught is possible. I won't go into further detail yet, but I promise you, this lesson is one of the most valuable lessons I have ever learned. After finding no new information about meditation I decided to put it on the backburner for a while and focus on my social life. Patrick and I tried desperatly throughout the school year to make new friends, or maybe get invited to more parties ect. I remember it was sometime in the winter because as I walked into school my shoes were wet with melting snow when it happened. In front of me stood the prettiest girl I had ever seen. At about my height her beautiful brown hair fell carefully on her soft shoulders. I can remember even now that she was wearing a white shirt with bright colored flowers, happily springing up from the bottom and a denim short skirt that revealed her beautiful legs. Without noticing I had stopped in my tracks, mouth wide open staring. Patrick ran up to me "Dude are you ok?" he said, I cleared my throat and then responded with a silent nod of my head and continued walked. Patrick and I always sat alone at lunch which gave us about a half hour where we would be able to talk about anything we wanted. The topic of today's conversation was the new girl.

Chapter Two: Let's Start from the Top

It started on my tenth birthday. It was a warm day in May (how cliche, I know) and I woke up to sticky notes all over my bedroom, all reading something to the effect of "Happy Birthday Pumpkin!" I got out of my bed to get ready for school, peeling sticky notes off of everything and putting them in a pile as I went, got dressed (mom still layed out my clothes for me) and headed downstairs. I already knew what would be on the table for breakfest, hot ham and cheese sandwhiches on white bread with milk. When I sat down mom screamed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART!" and gave me a big hug. I'm going to stop here for the first lesson. If you were lucky enough to know your mom, try to remember every time she gives you a hug. I know just from day to day life it's not a big deal, but looking back on it as something that I'll never experience ever again, there is definatly some magical thing that happens right then, trust me, remember the hugs. Moving on, after I ate my birthday breakfest I went outside to wait for my best friend Patrick and his mom to pick me up. Patrick was a hell of a friend. Even in elementary school he was still always the kind of guy you could trust. His parents had somehow raised him with a set of values that didn't make him too sheltered, but gave him a sort of "this kid's going somewhere" glow. His mom pulled up in her minivan and I got in the back seat with Patrick. Mrs. Fox was really strange to me, my parents were always the "Do whatever you want, you'll learn your own lessons" and Mrs. Fox was more the "Look at everything you do as a mistake and how you can get better next time." As I closed the door and buckled my seat-belt Mrs. Fox said "Happy Birthday Tim" and Patrick repeated the same. Patrick handed me a card and Mrs. Fox told me not to open it until I got home. I told Patrick to meet up at my house at 6:00 for cake and ice-cream and Mrs. Fox told me he would be there. As we hopped out of the vehicle Mrs. Fox yelled "Have a nice day boys!" like she always did and we walked into school. Im going to stop again here for a reminder. What happens next is one of those times where life really got me down, just keep in mind I'm not looking for sympathy, but this is a really integral part of the story. Patrick's first class was Science, but I had gym. I was a chubby kid, not awkwardly fat, just chubby, so I didn't like gym. After the actual class was over the teacher told us to go change our clothes so we went to the locker room under the gymnasium, the teacher of course waited outside. After I took off my shirt DeeJay yelled

"God Tim, put a freaking shirt on, no one wants to see that!" Looking back on it DeeJay had a really horrible home life and was just looking for attention, but everything is about perspective right? Since I was only ten and felt invincible I said

"Oh comeon DeeJay, your mum likes it, you should too!" and then everyone got quiet. What I didn't know was DeeJay's mom had died a couple of weeks prior, so I guess I deserve what I got.

"Say that to my face fatass!" so I walked up to him and said

"The only reason I'm so fat is because everytime I fucked your mom she gave me a cookie" I know, I had a foul mouth, but atleast admit that was a good comeback. DeeJay pushed me and I ended up tripping over one of the benches in the locker room and landed on my butt. DeeJay was already on top of it, kicking the snot out of me. All I could think to do was curl up in a ball and wait for someone to help. Each kick got harder and harder so I started counting the seconds between each impact, trying to focus my mind on something else. One, two, three, one, two, one, and then something happened. The final kick was the hardest of them all, I actual felt my entire body start to shake. My eyes closed and when they opened again I couldn't see colors and everything was happening in slow motion. More important than that, I could feel everything in the room. I could feel DeeJay's skin, his clothes, his shoes, I could feel the cold walls of the locker room, the lockers, the other kids, the floor, the stairs going up from the locker room, I didn't actually have to be touching any of it, I could just feel it inside of me. As the teacher pulled DeeJay away from me the feeling ended and everything went back to normal. She helped me to my feet and asked me if I was okay, I said "Yes" and then yelled "He hits like a girl!" Everyone else in the locker room laughed and she lead me to the nurse's office. The nurse gave me a basic lookover and said

"You'll be fine, just a little roughed up is all. You have to go see the principal with DeeJay and then I'll call your parents to come pick you up."

I won't bore you with all of the details, it was basically just an arguement about who hit who first, and we both ended up getting detention for a week. However that feeling, it stuck with me, like a scar almost, I could tell something about me had changed, I just couldn't quite put my finger on it. I didn't know it at the time, but 6 years later, that feeling would cause my death.

Chapter One: THIS IS NOT

This is not a teenager trying to get attention. This is not a scam to become famous. This is not going to save my life. My name is Tim Banks, and I will be dead by this time tomorrow. Do you remember all of the stories about secret government buildings on weird tropical islands that technically don't exist? I'm pretty sure that's where I am right now. The room I am in is about 6 feet long by about 10 feet wide. There is one window in the eastern wall made of that bullet proof glass they use in shark tanks at the aquarium. There is one metal stool positioned in the center of the room, and there are four small cameras, behind more bullet proof glass in the center of each stone wall. It's probably around 5:00 AM now, as I can just barely see the sun's rays begin to fill the horizon. I haven't eaten or drinken anything for over two days. From what I've heard they plan to kill me today for reasons I will explain soon. I should explain more about myself. I am 16 years old and I was from a small town in Ohio called Tradius. My parents used to be Laurie Banks and Michael Banks, but they were executed last month in a "Drunk driving accident." It's very easy for Uncle Sam to slam two cars together and produce two bodies, people put the rest together on their own. As far as I know, the story is the same for the rest for my other relatives aswell. However, there is always hope, right? I used to go to Canon Highschool in Tradius, but I never got very good grades, I had always figured life would just sort itself out for me. At Canon Highschool everyone knew me, but I never went to parties or really spent much time with other kids my age. I really regret that now. I've already written what this book is not going to be, but I am obligated to tell you what it IS. I was told by the people who are keeping me here that before I was killed, I would have access to any amenities I desired, and I asked for a computer so hopefully no one will make the same mistakes I did. In the following pages, please do not feel sorry for me, do not try to make me a hero, just learn from what I did, and try to pass along some of the lessons that are given. The things you are about to read are at some points incredibly cliche, unbelievable or downright boring, but all of them are 100% true, this is my story.