The Search for Artemis - By P. D. Griffith Page 0,63
had spent many sleepless nights trying to figure out what caused the issues with his abilities. He knew there was something, but he could never pinpoint it. He’d tried everything—every bit of advice, every technique—no matter how strange—but nothing solved his problem. It was like a monster in his closet. He knew it was there, but it stayed hidden in the darkness, frightening but undeterminable.
“Yes, you do! Why are you holding back?”
The next river rock shot across the arbor. Landon watched it in slow motion as it came closer and closer. With every fiber of his being, he tried to muster his abilities and stop it.
Thump!
“I don’t know!” Each word became more and more forced as Landon attempted to fight back the pain, but some new sensation was beginning to build up in his abdomen. It was a sort of internal heat, a burning fire at his core. It felt strange, and Landon was afraid of it. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
“What’s stopping you?” Dr. Brighton asked again.
Poom!
“I don’t know!” Landon screamed. With every stone, the heat in his belly became more intense; he started to feel like he was getting ready to vomit.
Dr. Brighton stood across the arbor with new rocks from the creek floating out of the water to his hand. Landon was becoming noticeably more defeated. Soon he wouldn’t have the energy to continue.
Even with Landon’s looming failure, Dr. Brighton’s militant demeanor never changed. “Why are you holding back?”
“I deserve this,” Landon whispered inaudibly before his mentor sent the next rock. He wasn’t sure where the feeling came from. It was uninhibited and unexpected—a Freudian slip—but once he heard himself say it, he knew he believed it.
“I told you, all you have to do is stop one of them and we’re finished,” Dr. Brighton said. “Now, why are you holding back?”
The next stone collided with Landon’s left rib. The force toppled him over to the ground. Rain began to pour from the sky, soaking Landon and Dr. Brighton within seconds.
“Stand up, Landon!” Dr. Brighton commanded.
“Please.” His words were barely audible.
“Stand up!” Dr. Brighton’s voice, deep and imposing, resounded over the continuous rumbles of the rain and thunder. A sadistic passion burned in the back of his eyes. He knew he was getting close.
Landon staggered to his feet but remained hunched over in pain. He made himself straighten up and raise his arm toward his professor, biting back the agony that coursed through his body.
“Why are you holding back?” Dr. Brighton asked again.
Landon didn’t even answer, but just stood as tall as he could and choked down the fiery sensation that was beginning to spread through his body.
A stone blasted into his left shoulder. Landon stumbled backward, but he was able to keep his feet and remain upright. He limply held his arm in front of him.
“Why are you holding back?”
A rock collided with Landon’s abdomen again, forcing him to collapse onto his hands and knees. Amid the pain, he could feel the internal fire raging up inside him; his powerful psychokinetic abilities were moments away from breaking out of the cage he’d unknowingly built around them. The last time he’d felt that way was during his apocratusis. Landon feared what might happen next if Dr. Brighton hit him with one more stone.
“Stop! Please! I can’t control it!” Landon screamed through the agony. He clenched his jaw hoping to stave off the force he felt building up inside of him. “I can’t control it,” he forced out.
Dr. Brighton let the stones in the air fall to the ground and bolted over to Landon’s hunched body.
“Look at me,” he requested. He put his hands on both sides of Landon’s face and forced his head to look up at his. “Landon, this is what we’ve been looking for. What can’t you control?” Dr. Brighton waited for a response but got none. “What can’t you control?” he repeated more forcefully.
“Myself,” Landon answered. “If you don’t stop, I’ll kill you . . . like her.” He dropped his head down between his shoulders. Tears flowed from his eyes and mixed with the streams of rainwater that ran down his face. It was the first time he’d ever said it out loud. “I killed her,” he sobbed.
“Landon, look at me,” Dr. Brighton pleaded. “Who? Who did you kill?” He crouched down beside Landon. This was the purpose of the torturous exercise, and Landon needed to say it in order to confront his inner demons and accept his past.