Chapter 11: Chapter 11
A splash of water fell on my face as I jerked up instantly, with Holden towering above me, holding the bottle of water that I had moved, with a mean and furious expression on his face.
“Get onto your feet!” he bellowed angrily like a beast. “And get the hell out of here! You are not fit to be trained by me. It was a grave mistake agreeing to help you. If anything had happened to you, it would have been on my head and conscience,” saying this, he yanked me up onto my feet mercilessly and pushed me towards the elevator. “If you ever show me your face again, I will become a killer like Matt,”
These words had a profoundly distressing effect on me and my eyes brimmed with tears, I could bear anything but not a false accusation on my friend.
“Matt is not a killer!” I shouted back, wiping away the uncontrollable tears.
“He might as well receive the punishment, and that will be on your conscience,” he apprised spitefully, pointing a finger at me, while I stood there rooted to the stop, boiling up with distress and helplessness. He suppressed an uncontrollable urge to grab me by the collar and chuck me out and merely threatened to call the police if I didn't get out. Nonetheless, I fell on my knees out of sheer desperation and implored him to continue training me. There was no other way I could find out whether Matt was innocent or not.
Holden's anger cooled down a few moments later, and as a result of my consistent adjuring, he got ready to continue my training, however, on the condition that if we took it slow and over a certain period of days and not tend to hasten it. Acceding to his condition for continuing my training, I could not help but try and be optimistic, placing my utmost faith in God that he would either extend Matt's trial, which was due in the next five days, or complete my training and making me gain complete control over my powers.
I arrived at the training arena during the early hours of the following morning, right before dawn, since it was the perfect time to sneak out of the house through my bedroom window while my family slumbered, and a suitable time for Holden when he would free from his bar duties. Dressed up in my sweat tracksuit, I felt born ready to perform the drills no matter how physically tiring or afflicting it turned out to be. Holden was waiting for me near the shooting ground, reading The Sunday Times and munching on an apple. He threw one at me, from behind the newspaper which I caught firmly. Shoving the newspaper aside, he looked at his Rolex watch and commanded strictly,
“At half-past four, you caught the apple with your hand. By quarter to six, I want you to hold it firmly with your mind,”
“Absolutely sir,”
“Now gobble it up fast and be ready,” he ordered, placing few more apples on the table. “We resume the previous drill and pick up where we left off,”
Swallowing the apple as quickly as possible, I stood there closing my eyes, trying to ward off all the relentless thoughts and fears as instructed by him in our previous session. Then opened them confidently, focusing my mind and exerting the entire force of my muscles towards lifting the apple. To my relief, the apple got launched in the air successfully, and astonishingly my brain muscles ceased to ache. I levitated the apple for a few seconds, making it do cartwheels before landing it back on the table gently. I repeated the drill numerous times over the next half an hour, jumping with glee at every successful attempt, as Holden watched quietly, while seated on his chair. He neither smiled nor applauded on my feats but rather wore a cold and uncaring expression on his face. Then out of nowhere, he snatched one of the apples and hurled it in my direction, which struck me awfully on the face and I jolted backward, flinching painfully.
“Sir, what made you do that?” I asked slowly, holding my palm on my face, which hurt excessively. But instead of replying, he hurled another one at me which hit my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I swore at him shamelessly for this shot, but he relentlessly kept heaving the rest of the apples at me which hurt every inch of my body. Finally, my fury broke, as I released my hands from my body and spread them in the air in a blocking position, and the last few apples thrown at me quickly froze in mid-air. I glared at them outrageously, with a glance at Holden, and with a slicing swing of my arms, they were sent flying at the speed of a cannonball in Holden's direction who dodged them skillfully.
I panted heavily, enraged by Holden's provocative actions, and glared at him again, shaking my head. However, most unexpectedly, a wide smile spread across his jaws and transformed my aggravation into confusion as he applauded me loudly.
“This…is exactly what was expected of you,” he claimed, glancing at his golden watch. “Congratulations Ellie, you have accomplished the first phase of your training,” these words had a blissfully relieving effect on me which vaporized my aggression, and I guiltily apologized to Holden for swearing at him. I sweated intensely and my body ached, but I found joy in the pain as it took me a step closer to my ultimate destination.
“You better run home Ellie, the sun has almost risen. We’ll meet again tomorrow at sharp four in the morning,” he informed, throwing another apple at me, this time to be eaten, which I held in mid-air, fully experiencing that power in a calm mood. I nodded at him with a tender smile and rushed away.
“Ellie,” he cried abruptly, as I approached the elevator. “Apply something on your face when you reach home, and always keep in mind, the enemy won't offer you a balm on the battleground after wounding you mercilessly.”