If you ever saw something that you were sure you imagined or heard a sound that no one else did - then you know what it's like to attend a show starring the Novaks.
"A magical act so spectacular, it had to be real."
An oh so common statement after...
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Crying eyes. Black clothes. A coffin.
The Barnes family gathered at the Greenlawn Cemetery to pay tribute to their beloved Cynthia. Her death hit the town hard. The Old Glasgow Herald dubbed the incident, The Main Street Catastrophe. With one person dead and 3 injured being called a catastrophe, you can see how tame Old Glasgow usually was.
Much of the town joined the Barnes family at Greenlawn. Even Mayor Bill Littlesmith attended the funeral. So much sorrow brought by one incident. By one person. And that person watched the whole affair from afar.
"Cynthia was a mother, a daughter, a friend," Pastor Steve said with a rosary cross held over his heart. "She looked at her job as a 2nd-grade teacher as no job at all. It was her passion."
More tears tumbled down as Pastor Steve continued his eulogy. August could see it all from a hill that overlooked the cemetery. Every tear.
From the earliest moments August could remember, he was called a hero. The chosen one who will wage war against evil. And after a lifetime of doing what he saw as heroism, he found himself once again questioning his place in the world. Was avoiding burning buildings, bullying Mick and chasing down witches that ended in a catastrophe being a hero? Or was August on the wrong side of the right choice?
I wonder.
###
The sorrow was unbearable, so it became pain. The pain was unbearable, so it turned to numbness. The numbness was unbearable, so August needed an outlet.
He wiped the single tear from his cheek. August sat all alone, surrounded by the mess of Dallas's living room, and his own mess, which was much worse. He wondered, how do I end this torture? He didn't want to be numb anymore, so held his left arm out and put his right hand over it. August extended his fingers, so his palm was directly above his forearm. Then his hand shook and his palm heated up. August proceeded to use his powers to burn a small line down his forearm.
He was so immersed in this act, he didn't hear the door open. Dallas grabbed August by the shoulder, snapping him out of this trance.
"What in the hell are you doing?" Dallas asked.
August looked up at Dallas like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I—I umm... I was just—"
"What you're doing is being a damn idiot!" Dallas stormed into the kitchen. "I think I got ointment or bandages in here. Some ice at least!"
"For what?" August asked.
"What do you think? Your arm!" Dallas replied.
"Mr. Spalding. Come here."
Dallas charged into the living room. "What?"
August stuck out his arm. The burn on it was no more than a quick finger touch to a hot pan. "The only reason that there is even a mark is because I did it with my powers. I can barely feel it."
