CHAPTER TWENTY - APOLLO
Cosmic Discord
Apollo dropped his pen and folded the journal entry he wrote in half, stuffing it inside the last page he’d read in his Black Shadow comic book. Since those thugs destroyed his journal in Toronno, Apollo had been writing his entries on any loose pieces of paper he could find. It wasn’t the most convenient of tasks, but it was a lot better than writing nothing at all because it enabled him to find clarity amidst the fogginess of his thoughts. Having all of those ideas and emotions swell up in his head without a place to release them was equivalent to holding in urine for a long time. A sense of relief came after; a certain weight lifted from his shoulders.
After placing his comic book inside the drawer, Apollo threw his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He’d already mapped out a rough plan of how he would kill Tyron after figuring out all of the classes he attended. The only puzzling thing was catching him alone since he was always around Bishop and the rest of his friends after school.
One possibility was to fish him out during exams next week. The other was to eliminate him and his friends all at once, though that would’ve gone against his code of not harming the innocent. Bishop and the others hadn’t done anything to him, and if there was one thing he wasn’t going to do, it was become a tyrant, all because of some cosmic superpower he happened to possess. A superpower he hadn’t even learned how to control yet, which, if not careful, may have ended up controlling him. Something I mustn’t let happen at all costs.
Apollo brought his attention back to the present, looking at the pen staring at him on his desk. Speaking of superpower. He pulled in his chair and placed the pen in the center of the desk, visualizing it taking off into the air.
Some of the books he borrowed from the school library, such as The Power of Thought, explained that any individual could create situations in their life by focusing their energies on a particular event and acting as if the event had already occurred. The book’s main summary stated, “You get simply what you focus on, and you become what you think about.”
Apollo concentrated and imagined the pen moving, floating, and dancing in the air as if being caressed by a comforting summer wind. A few minutes passed, and nothing of the sort came to fruition. The pen hadn’t even moved a centimeter. Apollo tried again, clearing his thoughts of all doubt. See the pen floating in your mind.
Another couple of minutes went by.
Nothing.
Maybe he was doing it wrong. But, if what happened in Toronno or any previous episode at home was any inclination of the power he wielded, lifting a pen should’ve been child’s play. Apollo closed his eyes this time and slowed his breathing down. In. He inhaled deeply, feeling his stomach expand. Out. He exhaled slowly, feeling his stomach contract. A few more minutes slipped by, and Apollo still couldn’t feel anything happen between him and the pen. There wasn’t any fierce rumble of energy tugging at his guts or any form of pulse radiating outward from his body.
Enough was enough; it was time to give it a rest. Apollo sighed, massaging the sides of his head to ease the tender aches throbbing from his temples. The fact there was another flare-up meant his body still hadn’t gotten used to using his powers, and perhaps even more importantly, the inability to move the pen meant he still couldn’t call upon it at will. No matter. I’ll just have to kill Tyron with my bare hands.
Apollo cracked his knuckles and smiled. The panic and fear plastered on Tyron’s face would be sweet once he got his hands on him. The number of times he’d apologize and beg and plead that he spare his life, but all of it would fall upon deaf ears. It’d serve him right. He was the dirt of the dirt among the other names on his “Kill List.” The world had no place for such scum.
Apollo’s smile faded when images of Mama popped into his mind. She wasn’t the type to promote or encourage violence, and chances are she would’ve told him to avoid it at all costs. A lump grew in his throat. The temperature inside the room dropped considerably. It was as if someone had turned up the air conditioning to the max, forcing Apollo to rub some warmth back into his arms.
The idea of disappointing Mama whipped a biting chill across his body. Never in a million years would he want to disappoint the only person who treated him like a son and human being, but …
Apollo brought his eyes down to his drawer, thinking back to the Black Shadow comic he stored inside. What would Demetrius Miller have done in his position? “Yes!” Apollo smacked his fist against the desk. “I have to do this! It’s like you told me all those years ago, Ma. That it was my destiny to make this world a better place. The world doesn’t need people like Tyron. He disrespected you on more than one occasion, and for that, he will be terminated.”
The door behind him swung open.
Odion stood at the entrance, anger screwing up his face. “Toki, I’ll link you later. I just got inside.” Odion waited a few seconds before responding again. “Aight, bet.” He tapped the screen on his iPhone and removed the buds from his ears. “What the fuck is your problem?” He tossed the iPhone onto his bed.
“Besides you being angry all the time and everyone else wishing I was dead?” Apollo paused, “I don’t think I have a problem.”
Odion’s face turned murderous. “I ain’t in the mood for jokes.”
“Who said I was joking?”
“What happened?”
“With what?”
“Between you, Serenity and Donovan. What happened?” Odion raised his voice and narrowed his eyes.
Apollo shrugged. “Nothing happened.”
Odion dropped his backpack and slammed the door closed. “Listen bruh, I ain’t fucking with you,” he said, clenching his teeth. “Tell me what happened!”
Apollo leaned his head to the side. “Why do you care so much?”
Odion stormed up to him and paused just before reaching Apollo’s feet. His eyes were a bit red and glassy. Was he smoking weed on his way home? No, that couldn’t have been the case because no herbal, earthy, woody scent emanated from his clothes. He must’ve been crying on his way home then unless he had an edible.
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“Answer me nigga!” Odion exclaimed.
Apollo shot straight to his feet, heartbeat quickening in his chest. “I told you not to call me the n-word.” He darted back and forth between each of Odion’s eyes.
“What. Happened. Between you. Serenity. And Donovan?” Odion flared his nose, twisting his lips sharp. “I ain’t gonna ask you again.”
“That supposed to be a threat?” Apollo curled his mouth into a frown, a thin sheet of fury pulsing in his body, drawing itself closer to the surface.
Odion grabbed Apollo’s collar and pulled him closer so they nearly touched his noses. “You’re gonna tell me everything, you hear me!” His hot breath brushed across his face. “Everything!” The veins sticking from his neck looked like they were desperately trying to burst through his skin.
“You might want to take your hands off me before something disastrous happens,” Apollo warned, taking hold of both his wrists and locking them in his palms. A rumbling started to tug at his guts.
“I don’t give a shit if you got special powers,” Odion said. “If you kill me, you kill me. We all gotta die someday.”
Confusion spiraled across Apollo’s face.
“You’re the reason Serenity no longer wants to talk to me, you’re the reason we had to live in foster care for nearly a year, and you’re the reason Mom’s buried six feet deep underground!” Apollo flailed his arms in the air as he was shoved, stumbling backward into his chair, almost knocking the lamp off his desk.
Odion’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took, teeth-baring like an angry Rottweiler ready to attack.
“Take it back,” Apollo said with an eerie calmness, the urge kicking him to retaliate.
“I ain’t taking shit back!” Odion barked.
Apollo looked into his brother’s eyes, stone-faced. “I said take it back.” They stared at each other for a long moment, a poisonous tension bubbling in the room. “I’m the reason why Ma’s buried six feet deep underground?” His nose burned with anger and disbelief, goosebumps plaguing both arms. “Are you being for real right now?” Odion didn’t respond. “You know, if you were anyone else, I would’ve killed you where you stand,” he said, staring into his eyes. “But because you’re my brother …” Apollo sucked in his lips and shook his head, knocking his knuckles against the desk, “I just can’t bring myself to do it.” The energy howling within his body settled to a hush. “It just doesn’t feel right harming someone who looks exactly like me. I feel like I’d be attacking myself if I did.”
“I ain’t interested in hearing any of your sentimental bullshit,” Odion said. “It’s ’cause of you why it’s so goddamned hard to live normally amongst other people. It’s why I hate being around you. You ain’t gotta clue of how to control your emotions, always lashing out at the first opportunity you get.”
“If that were true, you’d be dead right now.” Apollo’s face grew hard. Odion didn’t appreciate that answer by how he contorted his face into something ugly. “Serenity was damn near sexually assaulted by that guy who rinsed you in the woods. I saw them arguing in the hall near my locker, so I did what any normal person would’ve done and stepped in.” He shrugged.
“Normal?” Odion’s brows rose. “Stupid, you tried to kill him at school! Which normal person does that? Now Serenity believes I’m a freak just like you.” Odion frowned.
“She wouldn’t be wrong about that,” Apollo said. “And had she not pushed me away, I would’ve removed his spinal cord from his body.”
“You see, this is what I mean.” Odion pointed at him, disgust written all over his face. “The fact you can speak so casually about killing another human being as if they’re nothing.”
“Except he's not a human being. He's a fly that needs to be squashed.”
A hint of disbelief seemed to have slapped Odion across the face. “And had you done that, how do you think that’s gonna look on me? We’re identical twins for fuck sakes! The fact you’re so willing to kill somebody without even blinking says a lot about who you are.”
“What do I care how it looks on you?” Apollo asked. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the same one I overheard telling Tokin the other day you couldn’t wait to catch Donovan so you could slit his throat the same way he tried to do to you?”
“Yeah, but never once did I mention anything about doing it at school.”
“What difference does it make whether you kill him at school or elsewhere? You’re still trying to kill him, aren’t you?” Apollo watched as he licked at his lips, darting his eyes all over the room. “The fact you’re more worried about how you’ll look to other people rather than Serenity’s well-being says a lot about who you are.”
“Oh, don’t gimme that shit,” Odion said through clenched teeth. “I care about Serenity more than you could ever know, but I’m also aware that killing another student at school might look a bit suspect, especially since everyone—including the police—are gonna question me,” he pointed to himself, “about the shit you did.” He pointed to Apollo. “I got my own beef with Donovan, but even I know killing him at school is beyond a stupid idea. I ain’t trying to go to prison like you. Continue with that kill first mentality, and that’s exactly where your dumbass'll be headed.”
Apollo pressed his shoulders to his ears again. “You act as if you wouldn’t have been capable of doing the same thing. I’m surprised your powers didn’t kick in.”
Odion made a disproving sound with his mouth.
“Stop denying it and accept the fact you and I have similarities that run far deeper than our appearance,” Apollo said as Odion stood there with the strangest expression of horror and denial he’d ever seen. “When I was on my way to Toronno, I ran into a gentleman at Aldridge station and—”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” Odion turned around and reached for the doorknob he fixed.
“He said that we were beings blessed with cosmic energy.”
Odion turned to look at him, his hand still on the knob. “Beings blessed with cosmic energy,” he said, looking at Apollo as if he were on crack. “Who’s we ’cause this ain’t got nothing to do with me.” His eyebrows raised.
“He was referring to myself and him.” Apollo looked down at the floor. “But he sort of hinted you were blessed with it as well,” he said, looking back at him. “He called ourselves cosmotans.”
“Cosmo-what?”
“Cosmotans,” Apollo repeated. “That’s what he called beings blessed with cosmic energy.”
Odion rolled his eyes. “That’s the goofiest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Why do you keep denying it?”
“You’re out there, traveling downtown, having conversations with complete quacks about beings with cosmic energy, and you expect me to believe that?” He looked at him as if Apollo had lost his mind.
“Then explain to me how he knew we were foster children.” Odion stared at him, narrow-eyed. “He knew about the incident with Margaret and Hubert, among many other things. I don’t know this man from a bar of soap, yet he was reading my mind like an open book.”
Odion pursed his lip and shook his head almost to an exaggerated extent. “Bullshit,” he said, still shaking his head. “It’s all bullshit.” He opened the door. “If I’m to believe anything you’re saying, that would mean they’re more freaks in the world just like you.”
“We’re not freaks—”
“Who’s WE?” Odion exclaimed, throwing his hands to the side. “I ain’t part of your cosmic freak show, homie. All that shit you be wilding about, keep that to yourself.” He fixed him with a look seething contempt. “And stay the fuck away from Serenity. I ain’t gonna tell you again.” Odion left the room and slammed the door behind him.
Apollo slumped in his chair and stared at the door for a moment. Odion’s reaction wasn’t the least bit surprising. Apollo’s patience was beginning to wear thin, and it was getting to a point where he questioned whether or not keeping Odion alive was even worth it, given the lack of respect shown toward him.
One of the main reasons he hadn’t disposed of Odion already—aside from them being identical twins—was his reluctance to disappoint Mama. She was the foundation keeping their next-to-non-existent relationship hanging on by a thread; however, there were only so many times he’d continue to be disrespected without retaliating. It was only natural to fight back when you were constantly on the other end of an attack.
Apollo opened his drawer and pulled out the journal entry he stuffed inside his comic book, clicking his pen afterward. Apollo held the pen against the sheet of paper, staring at the journal entry with several conflicting thoughts running through his mind. He didn’t want to add Odion’s name to his “Kill List,” but it was a name that needed to be added. Apollo added a star beside it, which meant to be determined later. Hopefully, he didn't have to follow through with that plan.
Apollo packed up his things and prepared his clothes for bed.
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