William Rovers; Boy GeniusMature

Rain. Rain was everywhere. For nearly a week the rain had poured down, as if the heavens were crying. As if God himself was upset. At least, this is what William thought, that something had upset god as he stared out of the window from his wheelchair. The biggest museum of history for miles around had a large glass dome overhead, and staring up made him feel drowsy. Then again, maybe it was the act of looking up that tired him, everything did.

He coughed, and instantly his mother wiped his mouth and coddled over him. Visitors looked at him with pity. He hated that. He was just as capable as them. He could walk, talk, and get hurt just like them. He just got more tired easily. Plus his mother didn’t help. His mother was completely different from him say for his blue eyes. She had black hair to his sandy. She had a clean face to his freckles.


A door to an office opened, and a man in a suit came walking out. His name was Franz Lusseinberg, and he was the curator of the museum. In his hand clutched a piece of paper that William assumed to be the results of the test he just took.

“(Mrs Rovers, I have excellent news)” Franz said.

“(Oh, do tell please?)” Mrs Rovers answered.

“(You’re son is gifted! The test he took! I don’t know how but he achieved 110% out of a hundred! His thesis on the evolution of modern man and machine opened new views and generated new opinions within our community. So structured and evidenced is it that we accepted it as a viable answer to all future questions! Your son is a genius!)” Franz gibbered excitedly, his bow tie bouncing up and down.

“(That’s wonderful news!)” Mrs Rovers said nervously, beginning to coddle William.

“(Of course, special considerations for his health would be taken into consideration; we’d love to sponsor him to a private university where, with his intellect, he would become a valuable asset to the scientific and historical society in no time!)” Franz proposed with admiration.

“(Oh, I'm afraid I'm not all that sure he’d fit in well at a university)” Mrs Rovers shot him down instantly, sparking William to stir in his wheelchair.

“Mum, I can do it. Just give me a chance please?” William asked.

“Sorry Bill, you know I just don’t feel comfortable putting you in harm’s way. I'm just looking out for you, baby. Also why are you speaking in English?” Mrs Rovers said without looking at William.

“So Mr Lusseinberg doesn’t understand. What could possibly happen mum?! It’s university!” William raised his voice but instantly coughed, sparking his mother to wipe his mouth again.

“That could happen. You get too excited, your health deteriorates, and something happens when I'm not around. I couldn’t live with that, Bill” Mrs Rovers said whilst smiling at Franz to act like nothing was wrong.

“(Was that English I just heard?)” Franz asked.

“(Ah yes, my son was born in Canada, he still remembers the language even though we moved here in Germany many years ago)” Mrs Rovers boasted.

“(I can speak many languages)” William said in Spanish.

“(Anyway, I'm sorry to say that we’ll have to turn your offer down. William cannot go to such places where he can’t receive regular treatment, and where he’ll be put at risk. No offence Mr Lusseinberg, but I just don’t have much confidence that any university could handle a student with severe muscle degeneration likes William’s)” Mrs Rovers told Franz very sternly.


At this point, William tuned out. He looked around the foyer of the museum he was in. Great works of art lined the walls, and exhibit to the Kaisers of old dominated one large corner. A hallway which led to an old Nazi war machine display went off one way, and an exhibit of crusaders in the Holy Roman Empire in another. In the centre of the foyer was a skeleton of a brontosaurus, large and magnificent as it towered over everything else, and William saw a bunch a teenagers a few years younger than him tying to touch its base by leaning over the red tape barrier.

Watching them, William felt jealous. He just turned nineteen, and he wasn’t even allowed to take an exam with the local intellect society without months of convincing his mother. These kids could visit a museum all by themselves just to stare at something whose grandeur and magnificence was wasted on.


Looking at them he wondered if they even knew the significance of what they were laughing at and making penis jokes. This creature was millions of years old, came from a time man cannot fathom, and has seen plenty of kids like the ones looking at it now, and will see even more long after they’re gone.
William stared up at the head. What was this creature really like? Was it just as archaeologists say it was? Or was it different from our wildest dreams? So many thoughts went through his head, anything to ignore his mother forever crushing his future. What was it really like on the planet millions of years ago? Would anyone ever really find out? William spent a long time contemplating it. So long, that something sparked within him.

He asked himself the question; would he like to see it? His reaction to himself was absolutely. Then he felt strange, something inside him stirred. He felt the inclination to fight this feeling, but also an inclination to let it happen. William relaxed, and let things happen naturally within himself, and instantly the world around him warped away in a mix of blurriness and darkness. It was followed by a flash of white, and then everything stopped.


His eyes adjusted. He looked around. He was standing in a huge open plain. The sky was clear. The air felt fresh, unused… as if nobody had ever breathed oxygen before. That’s when he realised something, he was standing. Standing! It felt natural! He walked, and he didn’t feel pain. He ran, and he didn’t feel tired! He jumped, and it felt amazing! This sensation… is what it’s like to be normal?

A roar turned his attention back to his surroundings. He turned and saw something that made him scream. A herd of Brontosauruses came stampeding at him. William fell down in fear and covered his head, but miraculously nothing happened. The creature herded straight past him.

The smell of the air, the touch of the ground, this was real. William could figure that out, the senses can’t be fooled in hallucinations. If these creatures were here, then this must mean he was millions of years in the past! Yet the dinosaurs acted as if they couldn’t see him. That was when a bloodied one fell down right behind William. The ground shook when the colossal creature fell, and William got back to his feet to stare at it.


More footsteps came from behind him, and an even more terrifying roar. William turned just to see the mouth of a Tyrannosaurus Rex coming at him. He froze in fear and couldn’t help but wait to be eaten, but he went straight through the teeth, the tongue, the throat, the whole thing! The dinosaur clamped onto the neck of the fallen one to kill it, and William was left dazed and confused. He just phased straight through it! Was he even real? Was this place even real?

As if on cue with the doubt in his sense of reality, the world went blurry again and in a second he was back in his wheelchair looking at the skeleton. He began coughing and his heart raced. His mother instinctively coddled over him and asked him what was wrong.

“(You wouldn’t believe me if I told you)” William replied with star struck eyes.




Journal entry 12


I have had no luck in recreating what I experienced since I started this journal, but some interesting developments have taken place. Whilst I have not returned to the dinosaurs, I have returned to the point where I did see them, in the museum. Several times, by accident however. I'm sure there is a knack to controlling this… time travel? Is it safe to call it that now? From what I can gather I am merely an observer. I phase through other living people and they notice nothing, they don’t even see me.

Until I can gather more information on this, I shall refer to this particular… power… as Observation Point. The point I first experienced this shall be known as the bridge point in time. As a failsafe, should I become overwhelmed by these new discoveries, I shall return to the bridge to gather clarity and control. Furthermore


The pen stopped working. William shook it a little but nothing came out. He tossed it to a side where the bin in his small room was and reached for his pen stand. But a momentary muscle spasm caused him to knock the stand over, what happened next astounded him; nothing. Absolutely nothing happened. The pen case was frozen in the same position his hand knocked it in, as if gravity stopped working.

He looked to the side, and the pen he threw away was in the exact same position where he hand let go of it. He looked at the clock, the second hand was frozen. Time had stopped! Everything was frozen except for him, and he had no control over this or influence. He did not cause this, and he could not fix it. Within mere minutes of speculation, William concluded a theory.


Somebody else had frozen time and only that same person could start it again. This opened up two very interesting possibilities. One; he was not the only one with control over time. Two; observing the past did not seem to be the extent of these gifts.

Should these theories turn out to be true, William thought, then whatever he had stumbled into was going to get very interesting, very quickly.

The End

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