Space Cadet Finn

 

Finn had always seen them. Ethereal figures, shimmering like heat waves on asphalt, are moving and interacting alongside the "real" world. They were everywhere :translucent children giggling on the playground, stooped old men reading invisible newspapers at bus stops ,and a woman in a flowing gown dancing alone in the rain. To anyone else, they were nothing. To Finn, they were a vibrant, silent world layered onto his own.

At first, it was a secret joy. He'd weave stories about the ghostly figures, attributing their actions to the real world. The giggling children became mischievous twins, the reading men eccentric professors, and the dancing woman a figment of his imagination. But secrets, like shadows, have a way of stretching and growing.

At school, Finn's quiet observations morphed into whispered conversations with invisible figures, earning him the dubious title of "Space Cadet Finn." Whispers became taunts, taunts became shoves, and shoves became punches. Lunch became a solitary affair under the library table, surrounded by his invisible friends, offering the only solace he knew.

One day, during the chaos of dodgeball, the world shifted. It was faint at first, a flicker in the corner of his eye, but then it solidified. A boy, older, skin a bruised purple, materialized next to Finn. He wasn't like the others, shimmering and translucent. He was solid, real, and had fear etched on his face.

"You can see me, too?" His voice was a raspy whisper.

Finn, his heart stuttering, nodded. The fear in the boy's eyes mirrored his own.

"They... chased me here," the boy continued, his voice cracking. "Said I wasn't supposed to cross."

Before he could finish, a swirling vortex tore open next to them, tendrils of energy reaching for the boy. He screamed a chilling sound that seemed to echo through both worlds. Finn, without thinking, pushed him aside, the tendrils wrapping around his arm instead.

Pain, unlike anything he'd ever felt, lanced through him. The ground dissolved, reality warping around him as he was pulled towards the vortex. His invisible friend's
face etched with concern, reached out, their forms flickering. The boy, eyes wide with terror, grabbed his hand.

A cold grip closed around Finn's other arm. It was solid, the grip anchoring him. He looked up to see his reflection, distorted and swirling, his eyes glowing an eerie white. This "other Finn" held him back, fighting the pull of the vortex with a strength he never knew he possessed.

The world solidified again. The "other Finn" faded, leaving a tingling warmth in his palm. The vortex had vanished, and the boy was gone. In his place was a single feather, shimmering with an otherworldly light.

Finn clutched the feather, his mind reeling. Was the other Finn like him? Was the boy from somewhere beyond the shimmering figures? And what did it mean to see both worlds?

He didn't have answers, just a growing awareness and a feeling of responsibility. He looked around the empty gym, no longer seeing just the familiar walls but a gateway, a threshold. The whispers and taunts faded, replaced by a quiet determination. He wasn't just Space Cadet Finn anymore. He was the boy who could see, the boy who had touched two worlds, and maybe, just maybe, the boy who could bridge them.

As the school bell rang, echoing through the quiet hall, Finn walked out, the feather warm in his pocket. The world shimmered around him, holding secrets he was only beginning to understand. He took a deep breath, no longer afraid but curious and excited. The journey, it seemed, had just begun.