The Butterfly Effect

I stared at my legs crossed on the floor, one of my hands making swift movements and watching the leaves and trees rustle and dance. I play with them.

I hear footsteps behind me, “Autumn, it’s me.” Of course it’s her, it’s always her around this time. She sat on the same boulder and her olive eyes follow the leaves. “Have you finished mastering the lightning yet?”

Testing myself, like a pop quiz, I take the personal challenge. I rise up, opening my hands horizontally. My right arm moves, tracing my left from the fingertips to the shoulder blade slowly, setting up the charge. I focus on an area to aim at, a tree. My right arm shoots forward, pointing my fingers perfectly, and with the light tap on my right shoulder blade with my left fingers, lightning fires through my blood, out my fingers, and strikes the tree.

I sighed with shock and amazement. “My god.”

“You did it! You finally did it Autumn!”

I stare at the tree grow in flames and swished my hand in the air as if knocking down something. A little wave
of water emerges and drenches the fire. I raise my left forearm in the shape of a tree, turning my curled palm on the middle of my arm. I examine the tree; it isn’t harmed in the least.

Adelyne darts up to me and embraces me, the both of our gazes still stolen by the tree. “Wanna plant trees?”

“Yeah! I’ll find the seeds.”

She ran around the forest in search of seeds. She brought back a hand full, and two more shoved into her her sweater.

“Where?”

“Up in the mountain?”

I nodded and we hike up. We dig our heads of our shoes into the ground to mold miniature cavities, dropping
in a seed, each one about ten feet from each other. “Ready?” She nodded eagerly. I bent down and swiped my hand inches off the ground, then clutching my palm together. I stand up; we ogle a little bubble of water lift off the ground and emerge from the excess water from last night’s shower. I unlock my palm facing upward and spread apart my fingers, making smaller bubbles. I flicked my hand outward and each bubble flew to a little hole. I brush my hand as if cleaning off and little mounds of combined dirt and leaves that scattered the floor move above each hole; armor.

“Can you make them sprout?”

“Yeah, but only two, I don’t wanna ruin the cycle.”

She nodded.

I stared where I remembered two seeds. I motion my fingers like little dancing flames; pulling my fingertips
to touch my palm and draw back quickly. Two little leaves on each stem came out. I beam at my work.
Adelyne concentrates on my face, “Do your eyes always do that?”

I angle my head to the left, “Do what?”

“Turn fiery hazel. Instead of being icy blue, they turn fiery hazel, like a gold colour.”

Change colour? Since when did my eyes do that? Isn’t element bending more than enough?

“Yeah, I noticed when you sprouted the trees; they just went golden in a second. Now they’re back to normal.”

“I never noticed that….” I say skeptically. It isn’t so much that I don’t believe Adelyne, it’s just that it sounds hard to grasp. I didn’t know I could do that. I was still under the conviction that I was an alien when I thought I was the only one who could bend, until I found out Adam could too.

We walk back home in silence. My mind dwindles away and I find myself listening to the bird operas and keeping an attentive eye on the sun set blend together and apart when my mind returns to consciousness. Our house comes into the picture, a two-story white house with a fusion of modern and early Victorian aspects. The mix of aqua and green paint, I can’t find a name for it, outlines the structure of the house, contrasted to the colours of the season.

I race upstairs and flop on my bed, staring up at the stars on my royal purple ceiling. The black chandelier is hanging in the middle of my room with my tan dream catcher hung on one of its handles. My slim white oak bookcase is halfway full, mom wouldn’t let me bring more than twenty books, forcing my to chose my favorites. I position myself to let my head droop over the edge of my bed, falling in love with the feeling for only seconds, until my mind is washed.

“Autumn.” My mom knocked on my door. With the noise and dizziness I almost slip out of my bed.

“Come in.”

She observes around, this was the first time she walked in here. “The neighbors are coming out in about twenty for dinner. Are you planning to join?”

I shook my head, “actually I was going to check out the town for the bookstore I found online. I’ll stay if you want.”

She shakes her head, “you’ve already been here for every neighbor dinner; you can escape tonight.”

I nodded.

She walked outside, but not before saying, “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

I lay back down, and Leon, my gray and white tiger stripped tabby, leaps beside me and stretches on my stomach. I rolled my eyes and scratched her head with my left hand. I pull off my glasses and shut my eyes, making a list on my mental whiteboard of the book titles.

The doorbell rings and that is my cue; I step outside onto the balcony, the night grew cold and windy, maybe it’d rain again. Both of which I wasn’t responsible for. I shut the balcony doors and walked over to my closet. I pulled out the hooded cape and slipped it over my golden and grey striped thermal. I left the hood down and jumped from the balcony.

Dusk had already fallen and streetlights began parading down the streets of the small town, it looks very story-booked: small coffee shops and diners, occasional beauty salons, all the ordinary. I pass an alley on my way to the Waverly Book Shoppe when a slurred voice captures my ears’ attention.

“Come on p-pretty boy, show us-s-s-s s-some tricks.” Then two rusty laughs. I halt and peak over the corner, pulling up the red hood to keep me hidden. They walked over to a boy, maybe a bit older than me, but much taller. Broken glass bottles in their hands, one swiftly pulls out a switchblade knife. My heart became lodged in my throat.

A voice in my head screamed to help. But I couldn’t help, I couldn’t even defend myself. You have a power they don’t, it’d be selfish not to do anything, it countered. I took in a deep breath and walked forward, floating among the shadows. I was concealed, until I stepped on glass. The crunch made four drunken heads turn in my direction, but from here, I could see their eyes wander about, trying to find me. It made me smile. I continued to walk, now having a better picture of the boy, he was tall and slender, his body in a red checkered flannel and black jeans. The man walked up to him and pulled the knife to his neck, his back pressed against the wall. He was cornered.

I pace faster this time, stepping out of the shadows. A man’s eyes set me. “Aww, look at the little girly,” he teases, “you wanna join him?”

“Let’s have some fun.” Another one says in obvious. My anger skyrockets.

The two I knocked over first sprint to me, their heavy footsteps increase in sound, I circle around, stomping with my heel and pushed a wave of air that sent them flying out of the alley and into the middle of the street. They look around and run quickly from the alley.

I turn to face the last man, his expression torn between panic and anger. He picks up the knife and slides it across the boy’s cheek, earning a scream. I can’t hold myself together to look at the boy, maybe he was crying, maybe his expression was simply more than my simple heart could handle. I could feel my hands grow enflamed, more than earlier. A forest fire grows on my palm; I stare at it evilly. I blow eagerly at the flames and they fly onto the sleeve of his jacket. His mindless action makes him run into the wall and fall back in a thud. I flinch.

I stare at the boy. He stares back. He looks okay, without counting the cut on his cheek, just slightly taken back. I can’t tell if he’s taken back from the men or me. I twist around, with a whoosh of wind under my cape, and sprint. Stories are passing me, I can see them from the corners of my eyes, but without my glasses, they blur. I refuse to turn back.

When I reached the bookstore, I take off the cape and fold it into my hands. Realization slams me in the face; did I just do that? Did I, Autumn Rain Winchester, little four-foot-eleven girl just save someone? But how can that be—dauntless, maybe, but not brave. Regardless of what just happened, I still won’t believe that I'm brave. Maybe I'm just stupid. Stupid for getting into a situation that could’ve left me in worse conditions for the boy if I hadn’t shown. I knew I could’ve died there, but I did it anyways, does that make me reckless? He’s spared, because of me, true…but, I can’t help but wonder where does that leave me?

I turn; the boy stands there, searching frantically in all directions, it breaks me apart from my mental rant. I rotate quickly and stride into the store. I lean against the glass door, watching my chest rise and fall from my exuberant breathing. The door slams shut; the little bells atop sound my victory. I turn back and stare out the window; he continues to search. Victory at saving his life and victory at staying incognito.

I hope.