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A note from IaOliver

(Word count: 401)

  Norman started to feel something uneasy within himself, and that instantly got him alert and ready before the sudden fall. That tingling wave on his stomach only happened to him when his power was acting, when he was being chased. Like instinct, he was able to just choose the way where no one would follow, and when they did follow, all the sirens were put into a ringing mode in his head. If the followers are still far from reaching, it was usually just a goosebump, or a cold feeling in his feet. If they were close, he would start to feel nauseous and dizzy.

  Norman had close catches before. He, with Bruce, lived situations when they were on the blink of being imprisoned, or even worst. He remembered vividly how much pressure his power caused on him in this situation, but because there was a possible way out in all of them, he was able to control it, to tone it down. There was always a way out, that’s what his ability told him. There was always a way of losing the stalkers. Or at least that’s what he thought until this very day.

  Out of nowhere, as if someone was staring into his soul, gripping his hair and pushing it downwards, his power just hit him. Hard.

   “Lenise, your psychic motherfucker,” was what he was able to say before he started to vomit his guts out.

  Both of them immediately stopped, giving each other a look of something between dread and adrenaline, and the woman ran to pick the gallons of gasoline. Bruce got close to him, forcing his eyes to look at his.

  “C’mon, pay attention,” he slapped his face, hard, “Attention! We need to run now, choose a direction. North? South?”

  Norman vomited a little more on top of him, barely listening to his foul words. His head was giving out, he could no longer feel the pain of his punches or listen to his rage. His blurry eyes caught a glimpse of that crazy woman throwing gasoline around, and he couldn’t help but think about the kid.

  “The boy,” he tried to say with lips too tired to properly function.

  “The boy?” Bruce turned his head to the container, his face suddenly pale and when Norman followed with his heavy eyes, he saw the last absurd vision before he passed out. The door was wide open.

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About the author

IaOliver

Bio: Meh, just a young adult trying to get distracted in this fucked up world.

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