The day started like any other, but Kai couldn't shake the restless feeling that had settled over him. The strange dreams from the night before lingered in his mind.
"Kai, grab the plates," his mom called.
"Okay."
Kai opened the cabinet and carefully pulled out three plates. He hesitated for a moment, staring at them. What if something happened?
He shook the thought away and carried the plates to the table.
His mom glanced at him as she slid the eggs onto a platter. "You look tired. Did you stay up late?"
"No," Kai said quickly. "Just had weird dreams."
His dad folded the newspaper and gave Kai a curious look. "What kind of dreams?"
"Nothing, really. Just...weird stuff."
"Probably too many cartoons before bed."
Kai forced a laugh, but his chest felt tight. He didn't want to talk about it, not with them, not with anyone.
Later that afternoon, Kai helped his mom with the dishes. It was one of his least favorite chores, but she always insisted it built character.
"Pass me the dish towel," she said, rinsing a plate under the faucet.
Kai grabbed the towel and handed it to her.
"Thanks. So, what's going on at school?" she asked casually.
"Nothing much."
"You've been awfully quiet lately."
"I'm fine," Kai said quickly. "Just tired."
She nodded, but the worry in her eyes was clear.
As Kai reached for another plate, a truck rumbled by outside, shaking the house slightly. The plates in the drying rack rattled.
Kai froze.
The rattling didn't stop.
At first, it was faint, almost like the vibration from the truck had stopped. But then the plates started to clink together louder, trembling against each other as if caught in a small quake.
"Kai, stop messing around!"
"I'm not!" he said, panic rising in his voice.
She frowned and reached out to steady the plates. The moment her hands touched them, they stopped moving.
She looked at him. "What was that?"
"I, I don't know…"
"Probably the trucks," she said after a moment, though her voice was uncertain.
Kai nodded quickly. "Yeah, probably."
But he knew it wasn't the trucks.
That evening, Kai sat alone in his room, his heart still racing from what had happened in the kitchen.
He didn't understand what was going on. First the pencil, now the plates. It wasn't normal.
He grabbed his journal from the desk drawer and flipped it open. It was a plain notebook, the kind he usually used for doodles and notes. But now, it had become something else, a place to keep track of the strange things he couldn't explain.
He wrote quickly, his handwriting messy:
Day 1: Pencil floated. Only for a second. No one saw.
Day 2: Tried to make it move again. It worked, but barely. Nobody noticed.
Day 3: Plates rattled in the kitchen. Mom saw but blamed the trucks.
Kai stared at the page, his pencil hovering over the next line. Should he tell someone?
The thought made his stomach twist. If he told his parents, would they even believe him? Or would they think he was crazy?
He closed the journal and shoved it back into the drawer. No one could know, not yet.
That night, as Kai lay in bed, the fear returned. It wasn't just about the floating pencil or the rattling plates. It was something deeper, a feeling that this was only the beginning.
He pulled his blanket up to and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.
Whatever was happening to him, he had to figure it out.
The house was silent.
The clock read 1:12 AM. He rolled over, but sleep wouldn't come.
Finally, he sat up, the quilt falling into a heap around him. The room was dim, the only light coming from the moon outside. He glanced at the door, listening for any sounds from his parents' room.
Nothing.
Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His bare feet were silent on the wooden floor as he crept to his desk.
The pencil was still there, lying in the exact spot where he'd left it earlier.
Kai took a deep breath and sat down.
Alright, he thought, staring at the pencil. Let's figure this out.
For the first ten minutes, nothing happened.
Kai tried everything he could think of. He stared at the pencil until his eyes watered. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and even whispered under his breath, "Move. Come on. Move!"
The pencil didn't budge.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hair. Maybe he was imagining all of it. Maybe the pencil floating and the plates rattling were just coincidences.
But deep down, he didn't believe that.
Kai leaned forward again, his hands resting on the edge of the desk. He closed his eyes and focused on the pencil, picturing it in his mind.
Just a little. Just a tiny bit. Please.
He felt something, a faint twinge in his chest, like a small spark.
When he opened his eyes, the pencil wobbled.
Kai's heart leapt. He blinked, afraid it might have been his imagination. But no, the pencil had moved, just barely.
Excitement coursed through him. He sat up straighter, his hands gripping the desk.
"Okay," he whispered. "Let's try again."
For the next hour, Kai practiced.
At first, the pencil only twitched, shifting slightly before falling still. But as the minutes passed, the movements became stronger. It tipped over, rolled, and once, just for a moment, it hovered a fraction of an inch above the desk.
By the time the clock read 2:37 AM, Kai was exhausted. His head ached, and his chest felt heavy, but he couldn't stop smiling.
He picked up the pencil, turning it over in his hands. It was the same as before, just a regular pencil. But now, it felt like something more.
Kai stared at the small model spaceship sitting on his shelf. An idea sparked in his mind. He stood and grabbed it, placing it on the desk beside the pencil.
"Alright," he said softly. "Let's see if I can do more than just pencils."
He sat back down and focused on the spaceship. It was heavier than the pencil, made of plastic and tiny metal parts.
Kai closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He thought about the spark in his chest, the feeling he'd had when the pencil moved.
Just a little, he thought. Just enough to see it work.
The spark came again, faint but steady.
When he opened his eyes, the spaceship tilted to one side.
For the first time, he felt like he had some control over whatever was happening to him.
As he drifted off to sleep, a small smile played on his lips.
But the next day was a disaster.
Kai sat at his desk, staring at the flyer his teacher had handed out that morning. In big, bold letters, it read:
"Annual Science Fair – Projects Due in Two Weeks!"
The entire class had groaned when Mrs. Harper announced the project. Science fairs were usually just an excuse for parents to build volcanoes or solar system models while the kids watched.
But for Kai, this year was different.
Science was supposed to explain the world, how things worked, why things happened. Maybe it could explain what was happening to him.
"Okay," Kai said to himself. "If I have to do this, I might as well make it useful."
He pulled out his notebook and began to brainstorm.
At recess, Kai found Mike sitting under their usual tree, munching on a peanut butter sandwich.
"Hey, Mike," Kai said, plopping down beside him.
"Hey. What's up?"
"I need an idea for the science fair."
"How about a frog-launching catapult?"
"Yeah, that'll definitely win first prize."
"Hey, it's better than a potato battery,"
"What about… magnets?"
"Like magnets and stuff? That sounds kinda boring."
"Maybe. But I think it could be cool if I make it...different."
Mike gave him a suspicious look. "Different how?"
"I don't know yet. But I'll figure it out."
That evening, Kai sat at the kitchen table, scribbling in his notebook while his mom cooked dinner.
"What's all this?" she asked.
"Science fair project," Kai said without looking up.
His mom smiled. "Look at you, all serious about school for once. What's the project about?"
"Magnets," Kai said.
"Sounds ambitious. Need any help?"
"No, I've got it."
"Alright, but don't wait until the last minute."
"I won't," Kai mumbled, though he wasn't so sure.
Over the next few days, Kai threw himself into the project. He borrowed books from the school library, watched videos online, and even asked his dad to take him to the hardware store to buy magnets and copper wire.
But every time he worked on it, his thoughts drifted back to his powers.
What if he could use them for the project? Would anyone notice?
The idea both excited and terrified him.
A week before the science fair, Kai set up his experiment in his room. He had built a small contraption using magnets, wires, and a motor he'd taken from an old toy car. The goal was to show how magnets could create movement, something simple enough to explain but still impressive.
As he worked, he couldn't resist testing his powers.
He placed a metal washer on the desk and focused on it, the way he'd practiced late at night.
Move, he thought, his chest tightening with effort.
The washer wobbled, then slid across the desk toward him.
He picked up the washer and placed it back on the desk. This time, he tried something different. Instead of thinking about moving it, he imagined it hovering, floating just like the pencil had.
The washer lifted off the desk, wobbling slightly before falling back down with a soft clink.
"Whoa," Kai whispered, staring at it.
He couldn't use his powers in front of everyone at the science fair. That much was obvious. But the thought of practicing in secret, of understanding what he could really do, made him feel a little less afraid.
The night before the science fair, Kai lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
His project was ready, and he felt confident it would work. But what really excited him wasn't the magnets or the motor.
It was the possibility that he could understand himself, that maybe, just maybe, science could help him figure out who he was becoming.