Misfits & trouble

 The snow was toppling down outside the shop window. I was sure Meg would hate me for asking her to pick me up. I looked down at my feet; I wasn’t exactly wearing the best shoes for snow walking. I was pretty sure fabric pumps weren’t going to keep the snow out. I placed the packet of sweets on the counter and watch the old man weight them up. His grey hair had slight odd specks of black knitted within his hair. With his bags under his eyes I could tell he had a lot of worry once in his life. But the laughter creases around his dark hazel eyes reassured me that someone had made him happy. I heard the door open as the bell rang, but paid no attention to who was coming in. “£2.50,” the man said placing the paper bag down in front of me. I pulled out a load of change from my pocket and looked at the man with my pleading blue eyes. He sighed and opened his hand out and excepting the changed of ten pennies and a few five pence. But something stopped me from pulling my hand away; after he had taken the change. Something in the air didn’t feel right. I could feel emotion swarming through the room.

Fear, anger and panic.

Then I heard the snap of a gun being pulled back. I didn’t have to turn to see that the gun was shaking in a very sacred man’s hand. A man with a gun was scary enough, but a scared man with a gun was suicide. I looked at the shop keeper, who gentle raised his hands in a sign of surrender. I slowly turned on my feet and looked at the person with the gun. My hands went up automatically. I took in the blueness of his eyes, how they seemed to swirl and churn. I looked up at the light that was flickering above my head. That had to be the reason why they looked like his colour was moving. I dropped my eyes back down towards his face. It was covered with a black balaclava. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and dark jeans. They barrel of the gun was hovering somewhat between me and the man behind the counter. I could see the panic flooding into his eyes; I could see how they hovered on me and how he really didn’t want to do anything stupid. “Get behind the counter.” A gruff voice erupted from his pale lips; it certainly didn’t match the emotion in his eyes. Slowly my feet stumbled backwards and I moved around the counter. I felt my body shiver. Not because I was cold but because something was stirring up inside of me, something that I wanted to stay deep down. But the panic inside my stomach was wakening it up. I closed my eyes and concentrated on battling it down, but it was no use it was pushing its way up. I gasped as it over took my mind. My eyes flew open.

I wasn’t in control anymore. I felt my head begin to buzz and my fingertips began to tingle. The flickering light flashed violently. The guy looked up and I saw his eyebrows knot together. My eyes flicked to the cooler where bottles of water stood. Why did there always have to be water when the feeling turned me inside out? The bottles began to shake and I felt every eye follow the rattling sound that the cooler was making. I swallowed loudly praying for the feeling to die down but it didn’t. It engorged my stomach and was ripping through coaxing my mind; telling me what to do. The bottles erupted together causing a cascade of water to flow around the cooler trying to find a way out. It suddenly turned into a horse and its hooves were pounding on the glass. All three of use instinctively took a step back. My eyes turned and looked towards the gun which was no hanging off one of the guy’s fingers.

The water horse was still pounding through the glass and cracks were beginning to appear. I took my chance to grab the gun. As I swung my felt across the counter; adrenaline pumping through my veins, a flash of blue shot out of nowhere and the gun was ripped from the guy’s hand and hung in mid-air. By what I can only describe as a blue pointed tail. The shop keeper pulled me back in horror I could see his eye glistening with that strong emotion of survival. I pushed my black hair out of my eyes. I followed the old man’s gaze and so did the robber.

There on the pure white ceiling, sat, what I can literally describe as a teenage boy, with blue skin. As if it was shot through with indelible ink. His black hair stood out against the contrast of his skin. He smiled a white flash of teeth and his tail brought the gun up towards his hands. The water horse was still trying to break down the glass but this guy had everyone’s attention. The old man gripped my shoulders tightly as if making sure I was real too. “You know.” the stranger spoke with a voice that had a hint of an accent; like he came from a remote island. He twisted the gun in his hands as if admiring its beauty. “It’s rude to point a gun at a young woman, especially if you don’t know what she’s capable of.” His yellow eyes glinted in the light as they turned towards me. For some strange reason I felt like his eyes were looking straight through me as if he could see the feeling that was swimming inside of me. The robber toppled backwards and landed on the floor. He looked terrified. “Freak! Freak, stay away from me.” The teenage boy cocked his head to the side. Like he didn’t understand what he was saying.

Suddenly he jumped down from the ceiling and landed right into front of the robber, I heard a hiss escape his mouth and the robber scrambled to his feet and ran. He pushed opened the door and began screaming, his legs powering through into a sprint. I looked towards the horse and suddenly it burst into a whirl pool of water and settled. It began to leak through the cooler. I felt the shop keeper’s hand being pulled off my shoulders. But my eyes stayed on the boy I was mesmerized that he was real and standing before me. I heard the click of another gun and spun around the shop keeper was aiming right for the boy’s head. “Get out of my shop, or I’ll shoot you to smithereens!” the boys smiled and slowly he stood up from his crouching position. I could see clearly what he was wearing. A long cream coat, I was guessing that hid his tail. He wore dark jeans underneath, but he wasn’t wearing a top, showing off his physique. The smile was still plastered on his face. Shop keeper kept his hand firmly on the gun. I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. But the boy still stood her. His arms crossed over his chest as if waiting for him to shoot.

“You leave me no choice.” The shop keeper pulled the trigger and a scream erupted from my throat.