\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1439384-High-voltage---1
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by krj Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1439384
A new project, so therefore not very good, but please leave a comment/rate it. thank you.
CHAPTER 1





 








“Remind me why I’m here.” I asked sourly, trying to look as angry as possible. My whole face was set in humiliation, anger and frustration, my fists coiled in the feeling of exile.
         “Honey, you know why,” My mom replied, pity in her voice. From my position of staring at the polished white tiles beneath my feet, I could see the reflection of her staring at me, sorrow flowing through her eyes.
         “Yeah. I’m here because you drove me. Remind me of the reason,” I grumbled, refusing to meet her gaze.
         She sighed sadly, as if feeling my emotions, and answered in a soft voice, “We’re just here to do an MRI scan. Your migraines, both you and I have noticed, have been getting worse. We are just here for an answer for the—the events.” She looked troubled, her sorrow turning to worry.
         Ok. I have migraines, ones that aren’t that severe. Or so we originally thought. I mean, how many kids out there get migraines? Probably a few hundred million, if not more. Here’s another question: How many kids out there get migraines that shut down everything electrical within a radius of a few meters?
         Yeah.
         With every migraine I get, everything around me that is controlled or powered by electricity goes haywire before completely shutting down, and then refusing to turn back on until I leave the area. Sometimes, they’re as short as five feet; other times, the range rockets up to thirty feet. I once estimated a fifty-foot range electrical shutdown in the mall, all while I had an incredibly severe headache. Depending on the severity of the pain, the range is farther or shorter
         Some people say it’s a coincidence. Maybe there was a blackout, or an electrical surge, or something. Right. Seventeen times in the last week, the moment I got a migraine, there was a blackout. Every time. Ok.
         So we were going to an MRI thing. I had no clue what the whole deal was, or even what an MRI was, but—of course—I was here anyway. I wasn’t sure what to expect, really. This was my first time being to a neurologist doctor, and I really hoped it would be my last. 
         We were almost at the room. Let me tell you, a child neurologist’s hospital isn’t as exciting or crazy as some people may think. It’s basically a bunch of white rooms, with a child in each. Some were looking at inkblots, others trying to solve puzzles, others in therapy. Every once in a while, there’s a reception room, often with a very bored-looking woman sitting behind a desk. At least, that’s what it was like for this center. I don’t know about others.
         After walking the Great Hallway of China, we finally reached the last door. Room 742 had a simple, pale blue door; no reinforced, spiked steel…no blood splattered…no creepy pentagrams, or three sixes in a row. So our doctor wasn’t satanic. That’s a plus.
         And then I walked inside.
         At first, it was alright. There were two guys; one young and one older, sitting behind a bunch of computers. As soon as we opened the door, little bells attached to the frame jingled, and the men turned to see us better. I made a mental note that the younger one looked suspiciously like JFK before he died.
         “Hallo. You mus’ be Jonathan.” The older man held out his hand, and even before he spoke, I knew he was Jamaican. He had dark skin and near-white beard, and a sparkle in his eye that always seemed joyful. Even if I couldn’t see his skin, who else wears Hawaiian shirts with a necklace of fake flowers to work, and at the same time, wearing sandals?
         And then I heard his voice. It was definitely the voice you would hear with a reggae artist, or something. It had that cool ring to it, like everything was gonna be alright.
         I shook his callused hand with slight surprise. He must’ve noticed, because he grinned widely, and asked in a kind tone, “I take it no one toldja you had a serious partier and Jamaican legend treatin ya, am I right?” he told it like it was a joke.
         I laughed quietly, and smiled for the first time this day. “No. I suppose not.”
         He turned and outstretched his arm to the other man, who looked up from a pile of notes that reminded me of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
            “Hello. I am doctor Borsing. Pleased to meet you.” He statically shook hands with me.
         This guy had a voice that could bore a robot to sleep. It was so dull and unenthusiastic, and he moved so stiffly, I quickly crossed out my idea of him being John Kennedy reincarnated.
         “Very nice to meet you, Doctor…Borsing.” I juggled the idea of asking his to legally take the S out of his name, then decided that would probably insult him. The last thing I needed is a doctor, on that I just insulted, working on my brain with razor sharp tools.
         “Oh, I’m sorry! Ma name is Doctor Jaumaun!” He bowed, which really surprised me, and then with a slight blush, added, “That’s not actually ma name. But ma real last name…well, lets just say it would take hours for you to say it correctly.” He snorted.
           “And you muss be Mrs. Statzict!” He beamed at my mother, holding out his hand. She warily accepted the shake with uncertainty and a look in her eyes I never saw before, something that almost looked…insulted. Was she, like, racist to people from the Caribbean?
         “Yes. Very nice to meet you, doctor Jaumaun.” She spoke after an award silence, but in a very forced way, like she was pretending to be polite.
         “Ma pleasure.” He agreed, but his tone changed a tiny bit, like he was being mocked.
         Awkward silence.   
         “Yes! You are here for the MRI, I believe?” Jaumaun asked cheerily.
         “Yes, doctor, I already told you that. And he is here only for the MRI, I believe?” My mom sounded like an interrogator, her voice was so firm. I was getting a bit unsure of ever coming here, even more so that before.
         “Indeed. Only the MRI. Then you may go.” Borsing concluded, his voice as bland as dry oatmeal.   
         “So. What am I supposed to do?” I asked nervously, hoping they weren’t going to jab me with hundreds of wires and other measuring instruments.
         “You don’ really do much at all. The computers do all the work.” Doctor Jaumaun nodded toward the highly-advanced-looking machines.
         “Any wires? Blood tests?” I winced, not wanting to know the answer.
         “No. You just lie down.” Borsing replied monotonously.
         “Oh. That’s good.” I relaxed a bit.
         “But we will have to give you a contrast injection.” Borsing added. I was beginning to wonder if there was a disorder that made his voice so flat and boring. I mean, a ninety-year old history teacher on sleeping pills could put more enthusiasm in his voice than this guy.
         “O…k.” So much for my relaxation. If there was one thing I hated about doctors of any kind, it was shots. The other thing I hated about doctors offices was being enclosed in a tiny space. I was very claustrophobic, especially in environments I wasn’t familiar with.
         “Doan worry. It won’t hurt that much ah all.” Jaumaun reassured.
         I forced myself to believe him. “Ok. So I get this shot, and I lie down? Is that it?” I inquired, sensing that there was something they left out. I also sensed I wouldn’t like whatever it was.
         “Uhh…almost. Ya have ta lie down-” he pointed to a room behind a very thick piece of glass, a room I hadn’t even noticed behind the equipment. “-in there.”
         “Of course. So I go in there and-” I froze mid sentence, my eyes horrified at what I saw.
         I saw a huge cylinder in the center of the room, which I guessed. was the MRI. And when I say huge, I mean huge. It was like Godzilla’s toothpaste tube. Maybe ten feet long, eight feet high, and six feet wide at the minimum.
         But that wasn’t the scary part. Nor was the wires attached to it, or the weird buzzing noise. It was the fact that I had to lie down on a cot-like bench, which was extended outside the cylinder, and then go into this crawlspace. Only, the place I had to go into was barely big enough to fit an exercise ball, no more than three feet high and three feet wide. There was no way I was going in that thing. I was going to have a heart attack if I did.
         And it only worsened things horribly when I saw the warning sign on the door.
         Please remove all metallic materials from your possession. Serious injury and even death have occurred from wearing or leaving metal while in the room. All credit cards, debt cards, gift cards, or anything else controlled by magnetic encoding will be erased if left or worn. If you have a metal piece or fragment inserted in your body, such as braces or fake limbs, do not go any further. Do not use anything electrically or magnetically charged while in the room. Thank you.
         Huh boy.
         I didn’t realize it, but I was apparently sweating heavily. My mom squeezed my hand, her skin suddenly ice cold.
         “You alright, honey?” She whispered.
         “Yeah.” I exhaled, my eyes still frozen to the MRI. “Just wonderful.”
         My sarcasm wasn’t picked up, so my mom blew me a kiss and turned to leave the room. As she reached the doorway, though, she stopped and looked at Jaumaun over her shoulder.
         Barely loud enough for me to hear, she hissed, “Just the MRI. No other testing. No matter how supposedly different you say he is, he is still a human being! Don’t take advantage of it!”
         “Don’t worry, Mrs. Statzict.” Dr. Jaumaun promised before turning to me. “Shall we get started?” He asked sincerely.
         I was ready. I can definitely do this. 
         I think.
         














CHAPTER 2
















“Yeah. I’m ready.” I took a deep breath, still not knowing if I meant it.
         I took off everything metal and electrical, making a mental checklist of what came off. 
Cell phone…check. Ipod…check. Ear piercing…check. Gold tooth…check. Watch…check. Ring…check. Chain necklace…check. And Best Buy gift card…check.
         “Alright. Now, if you could jus turn this way…” Jaumaun motioned to the door, but stopped me when I started walking. “I want you to think of the happiest thing that has ever happened to you. Try and re-live the experience. Go.”
         Ok…let me think. There was swimming at the beach…rock climbing out west…parachuting from three-thousand feet…skiing at-
OWW!
My eyes shot open, and I sucked in a breath sharply. My breathing sped up a bit, and my muscles tensed.
Jaumaun had the needle, attached to a small pouch of liquid, stuck in my wrist. For all I knew, it could be cyanide, and he had just injected the lethal poison into my blood stream.
Ten seconds later, it was done. He slipped the needle out, making me wince as the tiny ejection barb pulled through the skin. He immediately put a white cloth over my wrist, where a pinhead dot of red was sprouting. Ugh. Blood. I really don’t like blood. Just the sight of it made me queasy.
“See? Wausn ’at bad, wass ih?” he chuckled, patting the pouch like a loved pet.
“Sure.” I lied, rubbing my arm where he had impaled me. “The MRI. Is it really safe??” I asked, nervously shifting my gaze to the machine.
“Yah, its perfectly safe. Don’t worry bout it.” He smiled big, as if it would make me feel much more daring and secure.
“You’re sure. Absolutely safe?”” I asked again, just to clarify.
“Don’t worry, man. Its gonna be alright, you’ll see!”     
I suddenly remembered something he had said when we first met, and my mom telling him ‘not to do any more testing. No matter how different he may be…’. Something about him being a legend…
“Doctor Jaumaun?” I asked.
“Yah?”
“What field of neurology do you specify in?”
“Wha, child neurology, of course!” He smiled out of the corner of his mouth, like I had just solved the world’s hardest riddle. “Wha do ya ask?”
“What kind of child neurology, specifically?” I asked again.       
         There was a brief pause. Doctor Jaumaun looked confused and taken aback, but just as I was about to apologize, he burst out laughing. I figured that after this, I was going to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time, and I’ll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white clothes, and their coming to take me away, ha, ha!
         …
…Yeah. I’m definitely going to get tied up in a rubber room.
         “You’re smarter than you look.” He chuckled, bringing me back from my thoughts of me being institutionalized.
         “Sorry?” I was surprised, both at the compliment and the fact that I was correct. Both were rare.
         “Most people don’t catch on until I tell ’em. Actually, only about three have, an they were experts. You are much smarter than I originally imagined.” Jaumaun noted with a new interest. I wasn’t sure whether to take that last statement as an insult or compliment.
         “I mentioned I was a legend in Jamaica, righ’?”
         “Yes…”
         “Down in ma country, I am famous for the extremely small branch of special neurology.” He stopped, as if making the moment more dramatic.
         “I am a paranormal neurologist; usually with children, but sometimes adults.”
         “Paranormal.” I repeated, trying to remember what it meant.
         “It means stuff we usually never see, or experience, controlled by the brain in most cases. For example: E.S.P., telepathy, telekinesis, psychics, spirit communicators…all that kina stuff. That’s what I deal with.”
         “You mean that stuff is real?” I questioned.
         “That’s what ma job is. To tell the fake from the truth, and to try and locate the genetic material or alteration in the brain that causes these occurrences. Yes, they are real. I have met people who can actually see the future, or lift a pencil without touchin it. Most people claim to do it to get money, but there are definitely a few who have these abilities.”
         “So then…why am I here?”
         “I figured you would’ve known that.”
         “Well, I don’t.”
         “ How many people have migraines that shut down electrical equipment?” He played a faint smile on his lips. 
         “So you believe me?!” I was stunned. No one excluding my mother believed me.
         “Ordinarily…no. I would just think of it as an electrical malfunction. But seeing that its happened seventeen times in the last month, an every time being when you were around the equipment, the might arise questioning.” He smiled.
         “All metal items have been removed. Correct?” Borsing asked, speaking for the first time in ten minutes.
         “Yes.”
         “And you are not wearing braces, or anything. Correct?” Borsing inquired.
         “Yes.”
         “And you do not have anything metal or electrical on you. Correct?” He summed up the questions.
         “Yes.”
         “Then you may enter. It will be over within minutes. Good luck.” He waved, his arm as stiff as an iron bar.
         I cautiously walked through the plastic-and-glass door. Yes, plastic and glass. It didn’t have any metal, so therefore presented no harm. Plus the door was at least a foot thick, so breaking through it would be impossible for a human.
         Bright white light flowed into the room, until it was looking more like a science lab and less like a torture chamber. The MRI machine was the only thing in the room. There were no chairs, tables, magazines…anything. Just this big bulky tube that I was going to have to squeeze into.
         Jaumaun hooked me up to a strap, which was attached to the MRI bench-cot thing. He tried to reassure me, but I didn’t feel that safe, despite the safety measures. After they placed a huge, heavy, white sheet over me, the doctor left the room. I closed my eyes, and tried my best not to freak out. True, I was a softmore in high school. Does that mean I’m not allowed to become terrified of a giant tube?
         After a few tense seconds, there was a grinding sound, a whirring noise, and then a buzzing, like a giant beehive was enveloping me. The bench shuddered slightly, and then smoothly began moving.
         I couldn’t stand it anymore. I opened my eyes wide, and found that, to my horror, I was three inches away from a wall. The inside of the MRI. I was trapped, being entombed. Oh my god…oh my god…
         The bench stopped. So did my heart.
         There was a clicking noise, like a camera going off. Every other minute, that click would sound off. I don’t know how long I was in there, but I can tell you one thing:
         From that day on, I was never the same.




CHAPTER 3











         



“Dr. Jaumaun.” Borsing motioned to his screen, his fingers moving at a snails pace. “Come take a look. Apparently, the migraines are coming from the Frontal Lobe.”
         “Ok…but that has noting to do with what’s happening.”
         “You would think so. But, whenever he comes within an area filled with static and electrical waves, for over a few minutes, he gets the migraines. Only then. No other place or time has he ever had migraines.”          
         This was a new one. Normally, paranormal migraines were caused by deja-vu or a supposed call from spirits. But not from, say, a flashlight.
         “So it’s not so much him triggering power outages. It’s more the electrical waves triggering headaches, while somehow create minor blackouts.” Jaumaun stated, his interest suddenly much higher than when he first met the boy.
         “Wait…his brain, when in contact with electrical waves, it…no, that’s not possible…” Borsing squinted at the screen.
         “What is it?” Jaumaun asked impatiently.
         “…The cortex somehow manages to reverse the waves back to the original host…while causing pain. So it sends back the electricity to the camera, for example, in tiny, unnoticeable ways. It’s like lightning; it goes to the nearest source, and gives it double the dosage of what it’s supposed to receive, both from the original power and the repelled waves of static and electricity. I’ve also got traces of electromagnetic pulses, but I’m not sure from where. It looks like the brain itself is creating them.”
         Borsing pointed to a scan of the brain, his finger at one section where the brain was lit up. The next scan, it wasn’t. The data below showed different levels of electromagnetism in the brain, which is never found anywhere in normal humans. 
         “So with the returning energy plus the electromagnetism, it shorts out, causing the ‘power outage’. But while it’s being released from the cerebrum and forced through these…pores…”          
Borsing pointed to an array of little holes on the scalp, so tiny that only a delicate machine could pick it up. Even then, they were only the size of periods, like the one at the end of this sentence. But they were swarming with white light, making it easier to see.
“Hmm...that’s different. The reversal waves must be expelled through these pores. But, as I was saying, he uses too much energy to reverse, draining energy from other parts of the brain, so it gives him a headache, depending on where the energy it being taken from. It seems he can also get a headache if there is too much excess energy in one area, after repelling the electricity.”
“But when he leaves the area in which he can affect machinery, the computers return to normal after a minute or so. Why?” Jaumaun asked, peering at the data screen over Borsing’s shoulder.
“Hmm…it looks like…once he can no longer make the waves reach the machines, the equipment just loses the excess energy. Like, if the boy isn’t close enough to give power, the power given dissipates instantly. Kinda like that saying; ‘cut off the head of a snake, and the body dies’.”
“So the effect is only temporary?” Jaumaun asked, trying to keep glee out of his voice.
“So far, Yes. That may change.” 
         This was a case Jaumaun had never dealt with or even heard of before; nothing he had ever done was this complex, this unique. If he could get the full data and prove his case, it might bring on a new revelation! Living proof of human evolution! Living proof of the unexplainable, the paranormal! Mankind could learn so much from this, gain so much knowledge of our kind through this one boy…it could possibly change the course of the human race! And if the boy could learn to control those abilities…oh my god, the possibilities…
         “See if there are any abnormalities or mutations in that specific area that causes the reversal. Check the neurotransmitters, the cerebral stem, the particles in his brain, the chemicals…even the molecules! This is something mankind has never seen before. We might have just stumbled upon real proof that these paranormal things happen!” Jaumaun was getting worked up; he was practically skipping around the room, trying to keep his excitement down.
“Sir, can you calm down?” Borsing asked. The effect was like giving a 7-year old three bottles of red bull, and then asking them to fall asleep. Basically impossible.
         “Sir?” Borsing suddenly seemed nervous, and even though his voice was still boring as a cow eating grass for three hours, it contained a tinge of alarm.
         “Yah?” Jaumaun exclaimed happily.
         “If he picks up electrical charges over time and reflects them back to its original host to overpower it, and can also spontaneously create electromagnetic pulses…”
         “Yah?” Jaumaun was confused, his joy fading into concern.
         “What’s he doing in the MRI?”
         Time froze. The air temperature suddenly dropped ten degrees. Jaumaun completely forgot his moment of glory.
         “Oh dear god.” Jauman whispered hoarasly, his eyes as big as hamburger patties.
         “What is it?” Borsing asked, even though he didn’t want to know the answer.
         “Get him out.” Jaumaun spoke through gritted teeth.
         “What? But, sir, the MRI-”
         “GET HIM OUT!!” Jaumaun bellowed, slamming his hands on the table.
         “All our data would be lost! We would only have these simple pictures, which would prove absolutely nothing! We have to-”
         “Get…him…out. NOW.” Jaumaun growled threateningly calm.
         “Ok…but may I ask what harm it is to just gather a bit more data?”
         “Is this a joke?” Jaumaun asked, dumbfounded.
         Borsing made the smart decision: he didn’t reply.
         “Firs, it would be a threat to him. The brain can only take so much stress before it overloads itself…and then we have a teenager going through a stroke. Second, you said that the reversal method gave electricity back to the host, right?”
         Borsing nodded slightly, not sure what to do. Jaumaun had always seemed so care-free. Now, all of a sudden, he was Mr. Worst-Case Scenario, who was on a verbal rampage.
         “It does that until the host overpowers, and shorts out. But this MRI isn’t the host. It’s connected to a power line, which connects to the central city generator. If that generator goes down, so does half the city. And that MRI can’t send power back as fast as it receives it. So therefore-”
         “You have an unstable electrical and magnetic build-up.” Borsing finished, finally seeing the big picture of the situation with growing horror.
         “Yah! And the MRI…we don’t know how it will react with the electromagnetic pulses from the boy! It could be utterly disastrous!”
         “Alright. I’m taking him out.” Borsing replied as he turned to the computer.
         He hit the abort key, and for a second, there was a churning noise from inside the room.
         Then it stopped.
         Borsing hit the key again. Nothing happened.
         The computer was frozen. Three seconds later, it went black.




CHAPTER 4















         Click.
         Silence.
         Click.
         Silence.
         Click.
         I sighed. I was getting used to the condensed space, and it was getting really boring, just listening to the clicks. I was starting to see why famous people hated paparazzi.
         Another click went off, and that’s when everything went wrong.
         My mind was suddenly pierced by thousands of rusty, white-hot hypodermic needles. Little colored dots exploded in my eyesight. My hands rushed to my head, and I managed to sense a small amount of a warm slime. I was bleeding at my scalp.
         Now, I have had some pretty bad headaches in the last month. Usually, it would hurt, I would have to sit down, put an ice pack on my head, and wait until it faded.
         This wasn’t anything like that.
         My head was literally splitting open, judging on some of the blood. My limbs were uncontrollably twitching, turning into muscle spasms. My eyesight was turning from colored dots to no color at all; just black and white silhouettes of my surroundings, blurred and quadruple-vision. I could feel myself screaming, but couldn’t hear it. My ability to listen was replaced by a banshee-type screech, like grinding metal against metal. Tears were flowing from my face like Niagara Falls. My back was arched so high, my abdominals touched the ceiling of the MRI, and the heavy white blanket slipped off, folding somewhat neatly at my side.
         I don’t know how or why I realized the external problem, but I did. The lights were blinking…no, not really blinking. More like, they got ten times brighter than normal, then got a hundred times dimmer, and then got brighter again. The MRI itself was flickering with bright flashes, which looked scarily like electrical bolts. 
         I looked at my arm through bloody eyes, where I had to use every ounce of pain-resistance to just squint. Right then, my life changed.
         Something was happening to me. My skin was shimmering with a pale blue light, like my arm was underwater. Every now and then, a flicker of light would snake across my palm, or whip up into the air, about three inches from my arm. My other arm had it too. So did my legs. Even though I couldn’t see it, I guessed that so did my face.
        I’m dreaming.
        That was the only thought I could create. I couldn’t form any other thought, due to the needles and swords driving into my brain. Everything was zooming in and out of focus, like being drunk on a rollercoaster. My arms and legs were having severe spasms; it made me look like a puppet, being controlled by a cruel, heartless puppet master. I thought I was dying. And, in all truth, I was.
        I saw a bright, blinding, white light appear over me. It was slowly creeping over my vision, covering everything in a blanket of snowy color. There was a deafening bang, like a cannon firing right next to your bare ear. Microseconds later, a blue flash burst through my sight.
        And then it all turned black.

© Copyright 2008 krj (blue524emerald at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1439384-High-voltage---1