“Secret Ability” - A Satirical, Short Story

Brayleigh is the unluckiest boy in the world. If there is one, it’s him. He’s #1.

This morning his Mom made him his favorite Mickey Mouse pancakes and cut and peeled him little strawberry hearts, a lovely breakfast treat for a special boy on his special day.

Then he woke up.

Believe it or not, today was Brayleigh’s 18th birthday, and one of his presents was being shoved into a locker for the fourth time.

Practically every day Brayleigh gets picked on. He is the bonafide geek at his high school and not even on his birthday does anyone give him a shred of decency.

“That’s a good one guys.” Brayleigh feebly laughed from inside the locker he was wrestled in.

The sixth period bell rang and classes were starting.

A tall, green locker’s dial slowly rotated on its own from the outside. Brayleigh fumbled out. Since this happens to him nearly every day, multiple times a day, unlocking a locker and opening it from the inside is a mere parlor trick for Brayleigh.

Coincidentally the school principal was there and caught him in his act of “skipping class”.

“What do you think you're doing child? I hope you have a hall pass.” The principal asked.

“No, I…well…it’s my birthday.” Brayleigh bashfully shared.

“I don’t give a damn if it’s raining today, where's your pass boy?” The principal demanded.

Without a given thought or reason, Brayleigh ran away.

As usual, the principal stands there, watches him run away, and then forgets everything - like what he looked like or what even happened, literally seconds later. Nobody gives a shit about Brayleigh, not even his school.

Brayleigh ran to his usual hiding spot. The one he always hides in when he’s in trouble or running from someone (as running from other students happens to him nearly every day, multiple times a day).

Underneath the staircase.

A not-so-secretive spot, where in it only about half of Brayleigh’s body is actually concealed from view. For him it’s not how good the spot is for hiding, it's so he can have a solitary minute to pray. Normally by this point, people lose track of him or simply stop caring. Nobody gives a shit about Brayleigh, not even his bullies.

“Well jeez. I guess I’ll just miss the whole sixth period.” Brayleigh shrugged. “Shucks.”

Brayleigh laid down underneath the staircase and took a nap. A long nap.

Brayleigh went on to sleep well past the end of sixth period. IN FACT, he slept through all of seventh period, and his final homeroom period. Brayleigh slept underneath those dirty stairs well after the school closed.

Brayleigh was dreaming of doing a sweet backflip when suddenly he woke up in extreme fright. He dreamt he snapped his neck.

It was something painful that woke him up, and it wasn’t the snapping of his neck, no, but something from outside the dream world. Something good enough to bring about a jolt, a painful one at that, to wake a sleepy Brayleigh.

While he was snoozing away, and just a few snores short of “snapping his neck”, an average-looking mouse came creeping by. A little one, an itty-bitty guy no different than one you’d find in a field. Who knows where the mouse came from? Maybe it existed because the school was so old. Maybe it was one of the mice from the science lab.

For a second it stopped and looked over the sleeping birthday boy. Brayleigh’s body twitched and it frightened the mouse. The mouse was focused and relaxed, and then all of a sudden the jittery boy ‘shook the thing to the little bones it had.

The mouse freaked out, biting Brayleigh’s lower ankle, and zipped away into the dark.

Brayleigh snapped awake, whined, and then realized.

“OH JEEZ,” Brayleigh said, scrambling for his backpack. “I did it again, DAMMIT!”

A thought shot across his mind. Was anybody celebrating his birthday? Did anyone want to? That is if it still was his birthday. Likely his Mom left out a cake. Brayleigh imagined that.

He quickly checked his sweet Lego watch in the dim crack of the staircase.

9:00

Brayleigh just napped for eight hours. He couldn’t believe what time it was. He peeled out from the staircase and headed straight for one of the school’s exits. He pushed against the doors with a sharp GUSH-sound. No alarms went off. The school itself, the teachers, the security, it was all so lazy.

Somewhere in his mind, he was vowing to never go back underneath those sneaky stairs. How strange, as it wasn’t the first time he’d napped under there. He had slept very long and hard.

But today, on his birthday, he napped for eight damn hours.

The teeny tiny bite mark on his ankle was throbbing. Only sensing a bit of sleepy-dullness, a mere drag, Brayleigh galloped home underneath the full moon.

Brayleigh was undergoing a change.

However, it wasn’t because of the full moon, for he is no werewolf. He is no terrifying dog-man ready to sink his teeth in an unsuspecting person. He’s just a fella, who was scurrying home, hoping for some birthday cake.

Though he was changing. That was undeniably true.

Brayleigh slipped walking up his driveway. He had run all the way home without stopping. His legs were beaten and spent. He opened the door half expecting his Mom to be there. She wasn’t.

There was no smell of chocolate cake, no balloon, no banner with his name on it. It was just as it was. It was just how it always was.

Suddenly his ankle flared up again. A wild shock!

“Dang ‘ol thing. You need some rest mister,” Brayleigh said to himself, ignoring the depressing obvious.

He went up to his bed and immediately fell asleep, forgetting the whole day.

What happened to Brayleigh overnight isn’t explainable. HE CHANGED. No doctor, no scientist, not even the smartest man on Earth could pinpoint what happened. God would have trouble discerning the situation. On his 18th birthday, Brayleigh not only became a man.

He became….

Brayleigh awoke peacefully the next morning. His fishhook toes clutched the bottom of his blanket. His lips were dry and his thirst was unquenched. He stretched his pencil-thin arms outward to yawn.

“Goodness me. What splendors await me today.” Brayleigh cheerfully said to himself, scratching his crusted eyes.

He hopped out of his bunk bed (the top bunk dedicated to strictly GI Joes, assorted action figures, and toys) and walked to his bathroom to get ready for school.

Gazing in the mirror Brayleigh noticed…

Nothing.

Nothing was different. He was still just as “dashingly handsome” as the girls always tell him. In fact, Sarah from Student Government passed out last week just from looking at him. She’s lucky to be alive.

Brayleigh is beautiful, while only some, just some, may say disfigured or maybe ghoulish.

He adjusted his shower curtain, looked at his toothbrush, and walked downstairs to eat breakfast. As he was walking down his stairs, and from what he could tell, he noticed his ankle felt good. Overall, Brayleigh felt good.

Like usual, his Mom was gone and there was no breakfast or anything like that prepared for him. Brayleigh’s mother worked in the city and was rarely around. It is what it is.

“Oh! Lucky me!” Brayleigh squeaked.

There was a nice hunk of cheese sitting in the center of the fridge, beautifully arranged on a white, porcelain dish, likely an antique from his grandmother. A thick wedge of parmesan and Brayleigh could smell it…well, he could smell it from his bedroom.

It is a beautiful piece of cheese.

Brayleigh moved it aside and reached for the jug of orange juice as well as a nice cup of non-dairy yogurt. He ate his nutritious meal and galloped off to school.

At school, Brayleigh felt…

Fine. It was just like any other day.

After entering the school, Brayleigh immediately headed off to where he liked to settle in at the start of every school day. His cozy-corner between two soda machines.

There, the other kids don't bother him, or likely it’s because they don’t see him. If there's a dark crevice, corner, or hidey-hole at the school - Brayleigh knows about it.

Brayleigh began to color in his sketchbook. He thought about if it was raining or if it was going to rain. 

There was still a little time before the first period. A couple of kids bought sodas, clearly locking eyes with a squished Brayleigh, but saying nothing. Just making their way.

Then.

“Yo Bray-Yay.” Said a threatening voice from outside his cozy-corner.

Brayleigh cocked his head out to investigate. It was a couple of bullies.

It was the same guys who chased him behind the staircase a couple of days ago. Not to mention a couple of days before that too. So on and so on.

Maybe it was the same guys who push me into lockers. My friends!

They are not Brayleigh’s friends, just three unfortunately familiar fellas, ready to deliver some belated birthday bruises.

They yanked Brayleigh out from his crack with surprising ease. Brayleigh stumbled, turning backward to face the three (ugly!) individuals.

“What’s up fellas? Having a good morn-”

“Shut up nerd.”

“Did you know it was my birthday yesterday? How about letting me go?” Brayleigh begged.

“How about I pop you.”

The only thing Brayleigh could think to do was run. Run to the staircase, the hidden spot, his secret advantage.

His secret ability to teleport!

Hideaway, flee, recluse, and best of all - sleep!

It’s like when you stub your toe - the pain feels eternal, but brief and you very quickly forget about it. Out of nowhere, his ankle was hot, burning hot. He felt sick. He was overcome with something and felt horribly ill from it. His stomach hurt and his entire body was cooking. Sweating.

Fear? Do I have the jeepers?

It was not the jeepers. The unexpected sensations that flooded Brayleigh in this instant, this very instant right as he wanted to flee, was something he’d never felt before. A true and wild impulse from within. Fight or flight? He could feel it throughout his whole body. Almost like he was being violently shaken, like everything had become TV static.

An internal instinct that felt foreign, overtly new; but quite…natural.

The bullies recognized none of this, and the fatheaded one moved in to grab Brayleigh’s shirt collar.

In the blink of a heavy eyelid, the 5'9, 110lb, crooked, 18-year-old Brayleigh vanished into thin air. 

Although he didn’t completely disappear, for he hadn’t truly gone anywhere.

It was hard to see, but in that instant, and where no one was looking, a teeny, tiny mouse appeared to free fall to the floor. An itty-bitty one.

There was a fuzzy thud of Brayleigh hitting the school’s tile floor. He squeaked in pain. The bullies looked onward, confused, and dense as to where Brayleigh could’ve gone.

Brayleigh wasn’t aware of his transformation. Now that he was shrunken down, his vision was all disoriented. Up close, the shoes of the bullies were sickening. The fabrics and stitching looked unnaturally large and different. The fatheaded one moved his foot, only adjusting it, but the movement itself sent a rumble, equivalent to an earthquake, all around Brayleigh.

There were crumbs scattered around, and he was aware of them all and could smell each one separately. Little cookie crumbs that looked like stones and rocks. Like Mars.

His head hurt, yet he couldn't feel the physical presence of his head. He couldn't even touch his head. He couldn’t see or make out his hands, fingers, or feet either. Everything he was feeling and thinking was askew. He was mute.

Suddenly the first bell of the day rang.

“Oh Jeez.” Brayleigh could only barely think.

Without another second, a flock of students marched by, crushing a clueless mouse, and valiantly moved up the good ‘ol staircase.