A Story of Magic and Miscommunication

Chapter 8

TW Weapon, irresponsible handling of injuries, negative self talk

Virgil's POV

I woke up in an unfamiliar place with three blurry people staring at me, and for the first time, I was actually glad that mum spent the money to get me self-defense/martial arts training.

I hopped up, ignoring the protests from my entire body, leapt over the couch and grabbed the switchblade that I kept in a hidden section of my combat boots.

I flipped it open and pointed it warily at the startled men looking at me. "Where the fuck am I?" I screeched, eyes flicking between the three teenagers in front of me, trying to get my vision to focus.

Even through my most definite concussion, I could tell that they were Logan, Patton, and Roman. And that was the only thing that prevented me from chucking the blade into one of their shoulders and bolting.

Patton stepped forward, hands out in a placating manner as he spoke in a clear, calming voice. "Hey, V. Remember me from this morning?" I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to think. My memories of today were kind of fuzzy. The memory of Patton sitting on the bus next to me rushed to the forefront of my brain, and I nodded, ignoring the wave of nausea that accompanied the movement.

"Good. We aren't going to hurt you. We are just trying to help," he soothed. He started to walk around the couch, but stopped when I tensed and narrowed my eyes at him. That was the only barrier between them and me, and I'll be damned if I give it up. Patton noticed this and took a step back, which allowed me to lose some of the newfound tension in my shoulders.

"It's ok, kiddo. Just put down the knife." I hesitated for a moment but eventually lowered the knife, albeit reluctantly. I flicked it closed and stuffed it back in my boot.

The world was spinning, but I resolutely ignored it in favor of crossing my arms over my chest and looking at them suspiciously.

"Why am I... wherever this is?" I asked.

Roman piped up. "Eric and his friends were beating you up and then I showed up and brought you here." I nodded, slower this time. I remembered blob-Roman. "I'm glad I found you when I did, they might have killed you." I snorted at that, shaking my head.

"No, they wouldn't have killed me. Do you think that Th-" I cut myself off, glancing nervously at the ghost who stood a few feet away from the others. Logan picked up on this movement and curiously followed my gaze, only to frown in confusion.

Damn this concussion! It's gonna give me away. "Nevermind." Speaking of concussion, the world tilted on its axis, making me stumble slightly before regaining balance.

Logan tilted his head before his eyes widened. "Virgil, you should sit down," he advised, gesturing to the couch that I previously leapt off of.

"Why?" Patton asked, oblivious to my troubles.

"I think Virgil has a concussion," Logan elaborated. Patton turned to look at me, placing his hands on his hips.

"Virgil Something Storm!" He admonished. "Sit down this instant!" I sighed and hopped back over the couch, settling on the comfy cushions, hiding a wince at the movements.

Logan reaches into a nearby first aid kit and pulled out a small flashlight. He shined it in each of my eyes. "Virgil, follow my finger, please," He requested, moving his finger to different spots in the air. I did my best to follow along but it was kind of hard when there was three of everything and the world was spinning. "What day of the week is it?" He asked. I paused.

What day was it? I looked to Thomas for assistance, but he just snorted.

"You think I remember what day of the week it is? I don't remember what month it is, let alone the day!" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Well it had to be a week day, and I had school yesterday... so...