Amidst the fire, lightning, and destruction, he felt a sense of tranquility. Suddenly, a burst of blue light appeared, and a voice echoed, "I will come again."
-------
Robert ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it out and make it look neat and tidy. He had the nagging sense that he'd had a vivid dream the night before, but he couldn't remember any of the details except a blinding flash of blue light. He felt like it was important, like it had some kind of message for him, but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. The more he tried to remember, the more it slipped away from him.
He gave himself a once-over in the mirror before heading downstairs, ready for school. He marched downstairs, crossing the well furnished dining hall and walked through the main door towards the classroom block. On the way, he thought about the football match that took place the day before. Everyone had been talking about it, and he had been the cynosure. Having resolved to move on from the voice, he hoped that by adopting a positive attitude, his life would find it's way back to its normal course. A contented smile spread across his face as he thought to himself, "Is there a better day to be alive?" He took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp morning air as he looked around at the other students, noticing the waists in short skirts swinging towards the school block.
Nothing could possibly ruin this morning unless...
Just as he got lost in thoughts, the voice barked, "Hey kid, why ain't you listening to me?" Robert, who had nearly forgotten completely about the voice, the freakish healing, his odd strength and his energy boost yesterday shivered but he braced himself, trying hard to suppress his fear, he replied, "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my head?!"
"I'm Poi..."
Vanessa grabbed his hands. "Hi," she said, looking keenly into his brown eyes, "Robert, don't tell me what they say about you is true?"
Robert scowled slightly as he asked, "What's being said about me?"
"They say that..." her voice dropped to a whisper, "you hear voices and talk to yourself, you know, hallucination. And I equally heard that you were speaking to yourself before you fell on the field yesterday." She looked at him compassionately, "They were sure that before you fell, you were talking to yourself. Some say you're mentally ill and you're a drug addict, but it's not true, is it?"
Robert clenched his fist as a wave of anger washed over him. He never thought that anyone would notice that he talked to himself and most of all, he never thought the other students would talk about him being a drug addict instead of his amazing performance yesterday. The most frustrating thing was that he wasn't actually talking to himself but to a god-damned, stupid voice in his head! But he couldn't tell anyone about it - not without sounding like a crazy person. He had to get to the root of the matter that concerns him and the voice.
After inviting him to study with her in the laboratory the next evening, Vanessa turned and headed to the science master's lodge to report on the laboratory, while Robert walked to his own class, lost in thought. His mind was whirling with questions and anger hardly realizing that he stubbed his toe on a rock but just as he expected, the affected toe healed promptly.
"Mr voice, what's happening to me? What are you doing to me?" Robert asked calmly. He was afraid of the voice, but he tried to remain calm. He knew that panicking wouldn't help, but he couldn't understand what was happening, and he needed answers. The voice was silent for a moment, and then it spoke.
"I'm not doing anything to you, boy," it said. "I'm just here to help you."
Robert was skeptical, but he decided to listen to what the voice had to say.
"Meet me at the back of the laboratory at seven o'clock tomorrow," the voice instructed.
"You didn't tell me if it's am or pm!" he whispered, afraid that he might be caught talking to himself.
"PM!" the voice yelled before abruptly falling silent.
Robert was greatly startled when the voice yelled "PM!" He took a deep breath as he regain his composure. His mood lifted as he remembered that he would finally get some answers about the voice that had been haunting him. He quickened his pace, feeling optimistic about the future for the first time in a while.
Ten meters away, Jackson sneered. He had been watching Robert for the past ten minutes and noticed that the rumors weren't false. He clenched his fist, a self-satisfied smile playing across his lips.
"Robert, sooner than later I'll expose you," he mumbled, "then, the report would get to the principal that you're a drug addict and then you'll be expelled. And once you're gone, Vanessa would have no choice but to run to me, begging to be my girlfriend," He scoffed before continuing, "sounds easy enough," then he turned and walked away.
Robert rushed into his classroom, only to find that the teacher was already in the middle of the lesson. The hostel master of the 12th grade, who happened to be his math teacher, glared at him and told him to wait outside until the end of the class. Robert slunk out of the classroom, feeling embarrassed. He leaned against the wall and sighed, waiting for the class to finish.
As he waited, he found his thoughts drifting back to his not-so-distant past with Mr. Williams. One particular memory stood out: the time, back in 9th grade, when he had seen the teacher mumbling to himself, his lips moving silently as he studied an old parchment, mumbling words like "magic" and "ancient souls." Rumors had spread among the students that Mr. Williams was into some mysterious and perhaps even sinister activities. He was known as the math teacher who was obsessed with the unknown.
"Ridiculous," The voice said with a disdainful tone, "what's wrong with that man?"
"I don't know, that's just how he is. He hates students being late to his class, and I was late because of you and Vanessa, mostly you!" Robert mumbled surreptitiously, afraid that the other students would see him talking to himself and make fun of him.
"Hmm... this era certainly is fascinating," the voice mused, a hint of curiosity in its tone.
"How do you mean?" Robert asked, stupefied. Incidentally, Mr. Williams walked out of the classroom, his blond hair and 6-foot-tall frame making him instantly recognizable. The 40-year-old teacher stopped in front of Robert, regarding him with a stern look.
"Robert Manuel," he began, his tone serious. "This is the second time you have been late to my class. I am beginning to suspect that you may be developing a habit of tardiness, and I want to warn you that if it happens again, I will have no choice but to discipline you. By the way, I have a question for you," Mr. Williams fixed him with a penetrating stare. Robert felt as if he could read his every thought and see through his soul.
"Have you been feeling strange lately?" Mr. Williams asked, his voice taking on a concerned tone. "Some of the kids have told me that they think you're hallucinating, so I want to know if that's true. Have you been feeling strange or hearing strange things?"
Robert feigned an innocent, puzzled face.
"No sir," he replied awkwardly and turned to enter the class, his heart pounding in his chest.
Mr Williams did not seem offended, he instead, turned and left for his office. As he walked away he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. Delving into the pocket of his trousers, he withdrew a yellowed piece of old parchment and unrolled it, a wide grin spreading across his face. With a flourish, he stepped into his office, his grin widening as he scanned the faded words on the page.
Robert took a deep breath as he sat down at his desk, his mind racing. "That was awkward," the voice said. "I'm starting to think that man is more than he seems. You need to be careful around him, kid. I'll tell you more about it later, but for now, just be on your guard. And one more thing - don't forget to meet me behind the laboratory tomorrow. We need to talk."
Robert rolled his eyes. He brushed off the sand from his palms and opened his literature notebook, standing up with the rest of the class to greet Miss Greene, the literature teacher.