Futurism logo

The Boy With Powers

by Marlon Bradley 2 years ago in science fiction
Report Story

The Golden Glow Around His Hands Hinted at the Power and Destruction He Was Capable Of

He was tired of hearing how different he was. He just wanted to be normal. He was tired of how everyone in his small hometown stared at him. He could almost feel their eyes burning into him. And when he looked in their direction, they scrambled to not make eye contact. He felt like a carnival freak most days. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.” He dreamed of moving to the big city where he could be just another person walking down the street, not the object of everyone’s stares and whispers. He looked down at his hands. The golden glow around them hinted at the power and destruction he was capable of. “I’ve got to learn to control it.”


He climbed out of his twin sized bed and slid his feet into the Nike slides on the floor beside it. He yawned and stretched as he shuffled into the bathroom to wash his face. As he rinsed the soap off of his face, he heard his mom call him for breakfast. While he ate the scrambled eggs, French toast and bacon she had made for him, he listened to his mother issue her daily warning about losing his temper. As she talked, he remembered the first time he lost control. He destroyed half of the local Winn Dixie just because she wouldn’t buy him any candy. That’s the day his life changed. He would no longer be just Jose Reyes. That’s the day he became an outcast. A freak. “The Boy with the Powers.” After breakfast, he returned to his room to get ready for the day. While getting dressed, he repeated his mantra: remain calm, remain in control. Once he was ready to go to school, he kissed his mom on the cheek and headed out the door.


As he made his way to school, he could feel people staring at him once again. He quickly shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, buried his head in his chest and picked up his pace. He heard one old lady whisper something about the incident at the Winn Dixie. He let out a heavy sigh and turned up the music in his headphones.


A few moments later, he arrived at the large brick building that housed kindergarten through 12th grade. Kids of all different ages filed into the building like ants, with a few stragglers stopping to socialize on the front lawn. The occasional first or second grader would even walk up to him and say “hi.” He returned each of their greetings with a warm smile. He took a few more minutes to calm his nerves before walking into the building.


The day carried on as most school days did for him. He sat in the back of his classes and didn’t speak to anyone. Occasionally, a football player would try to get him riled up by pushing him into a locker or calling him a freak. He’d simply just pull his hands out of his pockets and intensify their glow (the one thing he knew how to control) and they’d back off. But things got interesting for him when he got home from school that afternoon.


When he walked into the house, his mom was sitting in the living room with a middle-aged man dressed in a dark suit. Before his mother could move, he had snatched his hands out of his pockets and was ready for a fight. The glow around his lit up the entire room., you could feel the power emanating from him.

“Honey, calm down. This man is here to talk to you about going to a new school.” He unclenched his hands and took a seat on the couch next to his mother. The man introduced himself as Dr. Ronald Cunningham and said that he ran a private school that specialized in children with “abilities.” Jose shot his mother a nervous look and she reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“So Jose, your mother tells me that you destroyed half of a grocery store over a candy bar when you were 10.” Jose started to blush and quickly buried his chin in his chest.

“That’s mighty impressive, young man. Any incidents since then?” Jose looked at his mother, then at Dr. Cunningham.

“Yes sir, but nothing as major. I used my powers to blast my way out of a locker when I was a freshman.” Dr. Cunningham nodded and scratched his cheek.

“Any other abilities, son?” Jose sat for a moment, contemplating how to answer, then shrugged his shoulders.

The three of them sat for a while longer, discussing various details of the school. The young boy sat there, absorbing as much of the information as he could with a sense of dread and excitement. Then Dr. Cunningham asked his mother if she wouldn’t mind leaving the room. Although she was hesitant, she obliged and went into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner.

Once the doctor was sure his mother was out of earshot, he leaned in and divulged the real reason for his visit. He said he worked for a clandestine government organization that was recruiting people around the country with “abilities” to join the fight against America’s enemies.

“What do you say, son? Are you in?” The doctor extended his hand towards the young boy. Reluctantly, the young boy grasped the doctor’s hand and gave it a soft shake. Dr. Cunningham got up from his seat on the couch and walked into the kitchen.

“I have great news, Mrs. Reyes! Jose has decided to accept my invitation to attend Winchester Academy, that is if you’re still okay with him doing so.”

A sad smile slowly spread across the woman’s face as she looked at her son. “Of course, Dr. Cunningham, it’s what’s best for Jose.” Jose scooped his mom up off her feet in a gigantic bear hug. In that moment, both mother and son knew that their lives would never be the same.

science fiction

About the author

Marlon Bradley

I'm just trying to tell the stories I want to hear. I consider myself to be a true lover of the English language, and I'm here to put that love on full display for the world.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.