"You call this magic?" I shouted.

"What did you just say?" The magician said through gritted teeth.

"Your tricks are so boring. Even a little child can perform them." I shouted.

I shouldn't have said that. But I was too much angry.

"You don't know what I can do, young man." He said in his cold, raspy voice.

"So do what you can." My voice echoed through the hall.

"Andrew, please, sit down." Luke kept saying.

"Alright. You asked for trouble yourself." He said with a devilish grin. "I bet you will respect me after a few days."

"Yeah. Whatever." I said and got out of the hall. Luke followed me.

"How was the show?" Dad asked me as I entered the house.

"Boring." I replied.

That night, I had a troubled dream about Magical Michael. I dreamt that he had done something horrible to me and I was apologizing to him.

I woke up after that dream. I picked up my bedside clock to see the time. It was 2:30 a.m. I put it back on the table. It didn't come off.

"Am I dreaming?" I asked myself.

The clock was stuck to my fingers!