The Boy
Nobody liked Jacob Manilow. His mother was a shady character who was supposedly highly involved in witchcraft, although by this time, there was no such thing as witches. His father was a supposed drug dealer, but again, those were just rumors. Jacob himself was a little bit odd. Nobody in the world had bluer eyes; anyone looking at them had to squint to see his irises at all. He rarely ever blinked and he was at least a head shorter than everyone else in his class. During recess he would sit on the bench and stare at nothing in particular. In class, he just about never talked and he would stare at the blackboard taking no notes and making no sign of understanding or recognition. The only time he would move would be taking tests, which he always got one hundred percent correct. His homework was also superbly done and except for his uninvolved parents, his teacher always considered that he had help on it.
It was never the kids his age that teased him. It was always the older ones who claimed they were not afraid of anything. They would ridicule him worse than they intended and the next day, they would disappear from school because of a sickness. But no one else spotted the pattern and the beatings continued. It wasn’t until that day in December when he finally cracked, as was bound to do, that the world realized what this child was.
Mrs. Shorter and Miss Tall were watching over the kids in the schoolyard during recess. As was routine, a group of older students walked up to the blond boy on the bench. Miss Tall glanced at Mrs. Shorter, who happened to be looking the other way, and sighing, walked over to the bench.
“Stop this right now,” she yelled as soon as she was close.
The older kids jumped and blushed as they turned to her. She moved in closer to reprimand and give them a punishment when behind them, the little boy stood up. He blinked twice and then stood on the bench.
“How many times do I have to tell you…” she started her voice losing power as she watched the small blond boy with the bright blue eyes grow taller behind them.
“Thank you, Miss Tall,” he said finally; now that he was the height of a small tree, “I can take it from here.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she said finding her voice. “You’re not going to do anything of the sort. These children need discipline and you’re above fighting them.”
The boy smiled looking oddly much older than his actual age. “You’re right I will be fighting from above.”
He leapt off the bench and kicked madly into the air. One of the older boys collapsed, his face cleaved in two, while the others ran as fast as they could. By now, Mrs. Shorter was blowing her whistle madly. Miss Tall took off her jacket and threw it at the boy, who was now flying towards his running classmates to weigh him down, but it just burst into flame and blew away in ashes.
“I know you’re mother,” Miss Tall yelled after the boy as he kicked another one of the bullies in the face. “And she never liked punishment. Just because they were mean, gives you no premise to kill them.”
The boy stopped, the word “mother” plainly on his lips. He turned to Miss Tall; his blue eyes now a hauntingly beautiful cranberry red.
“She’s a wonderful person,” Miss Tall said. “And I know you’re human.”
The boy’s eyes were pink, now as he drifted farther down to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the earth, he collapsed, crying. Miss Tall pushed away the other kids who had completely stopped their activities to watch, and pulled up the crying boy. She brought him to the school and blew her whistle again. Playground life resumed and after leaving the boy in the principal’s office and explaining that his actions were punishable, though provoked, she went back outside and with a wave of her hand, got rid of the dead bodies.
Their parents were distraught, naturally, but they were too afraid to mention some sort of punishment on the boy who did it. After all, he did it once, who’s to say that he wouldn’t do it again? Miss Tall was incredibly silent on the matter, but she was told to watch the boy ever after to insure that nothing happened while he was at school. Beyond that, nothing changed. He would still stare out into space gathering information through osmosis and performing well on his tests. He graduated with the rest of his class, but his parents were absent from the occasion, and he moved on to bigger, but certainly not better, things.
