Beta: Moviemom44
Disclaimer: I don't own the world presented in this short story.
"The Collector" is one great show, one of my favorite ones – you can watch it on Youtube.
For Their Own Good
Adults are strange. This is what I can tell you. At first they tell you one thing and later get angry when you do what they told you.
My name is Brian and I am a mutant. I will be nine soon but I already got my mutant powers. Mom had them too before she abandoned dad and me when I was little. She could talk with animals. But I can do something different. I was so scared at the beginning but not any more. It's a real great thing to be able to help people with them. This is how my powers work. But I am still a little bit afraid of them.
My dad had a talk with me when I told him about my powers. "You got great power, Brian," he said. "And with great power comes great responsibility." I will never forget this talk we had then. I felt like an adult when dad was talking about such serious stuff. Daddy told me many people would kill for this power but I shouldn't ever use it. But I did and do. I help people with what I can do. Daddy told me I may not fully understand everything about my power but I shouldn't ever do it. Until I really, really had to. For my age I was really very naive. That's what dad said when I asked him why. But he didn't want to tell me anything more although I kept asking him about this. But I do. I help others. And I never tell anyone I can, just as he told me not to. Even him. It's difficult to me to help people but I know it's for their own good. That's the other thing my grandpa told me once – when I didn't want to swallow this disgusting, bitter pill when I was ill once. "It's unpleasant but it's for your own good," he told me.
Last month I helped Miss Aldridge. She was my teacher in first grade. I overheard her talking to Mrs. Bryce who is my teacher now about her problem and thought I could help. Miss Aldridge was very ill. It was her problem. She had cancer. I know it's a bad thing to help others not asking them if they want to be helped. My grandpa told me this when last year I watered our flowers too much and they withered afterwards. I didn't know grandpa had already watered them before. But this time I thought I could help her. She had spent a lot of time in the hospital. Now she isn't in the hospital any more.
I helped also Justin. His parents are our neighbors. I rarely played with him because he's three years older than me. He was also ill but it wasn't cancer. He had an accident and was in a wheelchair. He told me that he would rather be dead than in this big, nasty looking thing with wheels. He hated it so much. So I used my powers on him. I pulled him out of his wheelchair. His parents don't know who did this. I won't tell them.
But I help people rarely. I did it just a couple of times. The last time was two days ago. I was walking down the street when this weird old man came to me and started telling me he was a sinner and deserved to go to hell. That the whole world did and would. I knew him. He was Mr. King. He was always saying such weird things. Dad says he is a creep but when I asked grandpa about him, he said he's ill in the head and has a religious obsession. Mr. King used to be a Catholic priest back in the past and that's why. He was in a special place for people with ill heads but it didn't help him, I think. He's always telling people about his sins and about how bad he is. That we all are bad people and will go to hell because the world will end soon and that we should atone for our sins if we don't want to go to this place. My dad takes me away every time we see Mr. King coming near us to tell us about the end of the world.
So this time Mr. King came and told me we should atone for our sins as he does but he didn't believe that it could help him because he deserves hell and that's the place he probably would go because the world is evil. So I decided to help him with my powers. I think he was very unhappy. I know I shouldn't do it but when I see an unhappy person, I feel unhappy too. I don't like looking at unhappy people. I used my powers to open the door to the place to which I can send people.
Mr. King looked at it and screamed. But he got sucked into this place. Well, actually, it was a power within him, not his body. It looked like a ghost version of Mr. King, only without his body, got sucked into this door. Very like in the Collector. No one saw this and this is good. I looked at Mr. King. He was lying on the pavement now and looked all dead. Only that he really wasn't. He only like… fainted.
Later I came home and opened the door one more time when I was alone at home. Dad was out, the same as grandpa so they couldn't see what I was doing. Nor could they see them screaming. They are screaming all the time, the people from the world behind the door. It's really very, very hot in there. It looks like the hell Mr. King thought he was going to go to. Flames are everywhere. It's like from the Collector show. It's a series about a man named Morgan Pym who collects souls for the devil. I always think about it when I take a look into this place. I like to take a look at them sometimes to see how they are doing. This is better than my ant farm, even. They are crying and asking me to let them out. It's difficult for me to use my powers on those I want to help because it's so painful to them but I know it's for their own good. I thought they could stay in there until doctors would find any way to cure their bodies they left behind – my teacher's cancer, Justin's legs… And now Mr. King. I think they will somehow find a way to cure ill heads too. But I think Mr. King should stay in my "hell" forever. He really wanted to go to hell. It's strange that someone would like something like that but well… adults are strange. If he wants, may he stay here. And I don't think curing an ill head is so easy. So he will stay in there forever. I know I did a good thing.
Although my dad says I shouldn't do it. He told me I should do it only when I have to. And I do. I really have to. I want to help them. I know it's a hard but good thing to do. Dad should know this, shouldn't he? Yet he doesn't. I asked him once what he would do if I ever tried to do it and he got so angry! So very, very angry! I think he suspects something about what really happened to my teacher and that boy in a wheelchair. Their bodies lay in their beds in their homes. I am afraid he can guess what happened to Mr. King too. I think dad should spend some time in this special place too… for you know, I think this place is one which can help people and I think dad should be helped to understand what I am doing is good. I will wait for dad when he comes home. I think he will spend some time in there. It will hurt a lot, but he must understand. I somehow know the time in there doesn't pass like here. I can shorten and lengthen it. Here it can be hours, but in there it can be a hundred years. Or longer. Much longer. I don't know how I can know this but I do. I only wonder how much time my dad should spend in there until he finally understands he was wrong. I think a million years will be enough. I know it will be painful to dad to burn in my "hell" but… well, shouldn't everything be done for their own good?