The echo of the empty drums hit the world around him like little clashes of thunder. So loud, and so disruptive that he had to remind himself it was only the angered beating of his heart. He took a deep breath, and leaned back against the wall, trying to distract his ears with the noises electricity made jumping between his fingers.
There was a kid back there in pretty bad shape, and it was his fault for loosing control, but he tried not to let himself think to hard on that. The guilt was already too hot, and heavy in his stomach.
Worse than that though was the fear. The fear that they'd know now, and they'd come looking for him. His parents had warned him all his life to keep it under wraps. "Don't let the world see." "Your secret. No one has to know."
His hands crackled with nerves, singeing the air around them, contracting the muscles in his arms hard with their voltage. Discharge. He closed his eyes, and tried to drown out the voices in his head telling him how badly he'd fucked up. Tried not to wonder which branch would find him first. The one that would kill him, or the one that would enlist him.
"Shit."
Shit was right. His mother would scream, when he came home, but his father would just glare. Another breath.
"Fuck."
Fuck may have been more accurate. This was his life. All of it ruined. He bit his lips hard, and tried not think about the boys internal organ under the stress of all that wattage. It wasn't fair, his mother had told him in the sixth grade two years ago, for him to fight with other kids, normal kids. She'd been right. She'd been right, and he'd been stupid letting his emotions get the better of him.
Frantically, he reached for the garden in his mind, and fell short, too disturbed by fears, and insecurities to grasp at her peaceful shadows, and lush grounds.
What would he tell them? What could he possibly say to make it better?
He wanted to cry, bit back tears by grinding his teeth, head falling against the cool brick of the wall.
"You fucked up," he could hear his momma saying in his head. "Fucked up big time. Gon' have to pay the price."
Electricity leapt between his fingers.
In his head he could see the name Black Star being added to the international watch list. Could hear the garbled orders given to swat groups to bring him in. It was January twenty second. He was thirteen years old. And his life was over.