Alright, fine. My ending was hardly adequate, so I wrote a sequel to what I thought was a one-shot. My readers thought different.
Everyone is staring at me. Everyone. My bored, why-am-I-even-here teacher looks shocked. The kids who never noticed me are suddenly paying attention, in a freaked-out way.
Now I'm actively trying to turn invisible. No such luck. When it's obvious to me that I have no juice left, I do what any mature teen would have done in the situation: I calmly walk back to my seat and sit down, ignoring the looks people are giving me.
Kidding, of course. I turn and run for it. Mid-step, I shiver into invisibility again, powers having finally decided to work. Excellent timing, self.
Naturally, halfway down the hall, I slam into my biology teacher. A sharp-looking, but kind enough person. Not so bad lady. She is, however, observant enough to notice that no one was in front of her before we collided, and suddenly I've appeared. Mostly, with the right side of my body still filling in. We stare at each other for a second.
"D-Dylan?" Mrs. Rainier asks incredulously.
I wish I had a witty response, like people always have in movies even under mountains of stress. I don't, so all that comes from me is a squeak before I flicker out again and flee.
I'm not really conscious of where I am as I am running, only that I'm really lightheaded and shaking all over. When I stop, I am fully visible beneath a tree outside our school. And then I'm floating in a sea of black. When my eyes finally open- I've fainted, I must have- I am still under the tree. With people crowding around me. I can't have been out very long if school isn't out.
The spectators are mostly my classmates, but the school nurse is there, and so is Mr. Davidson. Can't he pass up an opportunity to torment me just this once? I sit up slowly. i consider disappearing again, and I feel that special chill for a second. People's eyes widen and they begin to murmur.
Well done, idiot, I think. You've proved beyond a doubt that you are nothing close to normal.
Before I can summon an ice-breaker from my memories, the nurse and Mr. Davidson grab me. Nurse-lady, who I've tried to avoid for fear that any examination might show my abnormalities, says,
"Well, he's clearly stable enough to go the infirmary and see what's wrong with him."
My blood doesn't run cold, and my heart doesn't stop either, like people say in books. But I do feel a burst of fear and horror that prompts a shiver into partial invisibility for a second. I'm still out of juice, though, so all it provokes is a brief start from my classmates in the front row.
When they've got me in the infirmary, my blood pressure is tested, I get weighed, all that boring medical stuff. Finally Nurse-lady sits me down.
"Dylan, these limited instruments can't find anything immediately wrong with you. Have you been feeling okay recently? Any reason why you would be..." She trails off, unwilling to sound crazy. Having stuck around after making sure that I was safely here, Mr. Davidson has no such issues.
"Turning invisible. That's what it is." My teacher's tone sounds almost disgusted, with a dash of horror.
I scowl. "Nothing's wrong with me, dude." I clam up. They think I'm a freak, it's clear. I'm not helping them.
Davidson frowns back. "Invisibility isn't normal. There is clearly something wrong with you."
Nurse looks at him worriedly, but I ignore that. I burst out, "You think I don't know that?! It just-just happens to me!"
"What happens to you?" The speaker is my father. He's just come to the door with my mother, who trails after him like they're tied together on a string. Maybe they are, for science. My parents are professors at the local college, and prone to random social experiments. He nods a greeting to Mr. Davidson, since they were friends in college, and gives no greeting to Nurse-lady.
"Invisibility, Robert. Your kid turns invisible on a dime." Davidson says.
My dad smiles lightly, my mother laughing behind him. "Good joke, but if you called us down here just for that, you should have made it better."
The nurse, whose name, according to a sign on her desk, is Samantha Waller, laughs nervously with them. "We can't find anything physically wrong with Dylan, but my colleague isn't joking. According to the kids in his math class, and his biology teacher, Dylan was writing a problem on the board, turned invisible, and promptly reappeared. He then ran from the classroom, invisible again, changed back when he ran into Mrs. Rainier, and was found passed out under the tree."
My parents' friendly expressions vanish. "The joke isn't that funny anymore, Ms. Waller." My mother snaps. "We need to know if Dylan needs any medical attention."
"No, no, no, I'm fine without a hospital, just fine, really." I stammer. Living with two geniuses, you learn a lot about the world. Like the fact that people, even in America, still sometimes shun people based on skin color, on their subculture, on religion. Anything will do, if it's different. Scientists have performed horrible experiments on black people and Jewish people, because they had their rights stolen and couldn't fight back. It isn't hard to imagine that someone who can do something humanly impossible would be similarly treated.
My parents look at me. Noticing my nervousness, my dad says, "Dylan, are you really okay? You don't look okay, and I don't trust these clowns to diagnose you." He throws a sharp glare towards Ms. Waller and Mr. Davidson.
Funny you should mention looking okay, I think. It's at that moment that embarrassment and anxiety flood me, along with a wave of cold. I go right past the appearance of clear glass that I've been partially passing into since I woke up and into full invisibility. My father jumps back, thunderstruck expression on his face. My mom actually screams.
I waver back into view when she does, wincing a bit. My mom can really scream. They both sit down hurriedly on those weirdly shiny bed-things sick kids lie on.
"Wh-what? Impossible!" My dad declares. "Nothing can just disappear." He rubs his eyes. My mom just sits there in shock, staring.
Might as well come clean if they've seen me do it. "I can," I admit. "
Mr. Davidson looks triumphant. I swear that I can hear him say, beneath his breath, "I knew freaks like you existed!"
"If something gets me scared enough, or embarrassed enough..." I curl my fingers into a loose fist and flick them out again. "Poof. It just...happens."
My dad sucks in his breath. "But...impossible." My mother whispers. She ought to know. My mom used to work in a government think tank. Something about genetic engineering, about what traits were possible to display.
I clear my throat. "Can I go now? Please?"
When I don't get a response, I stand up and flicker out. I leave and find my parent's cars. I'll ride with my dad. He won't be in hysterics.
My parents return to their cars. My dad unlocks it, and soon enough, he's taking me home. Asking questions while he does it. I can't tell if they're to himself or me.
"Why?"
"How is this happening?"
"What now?"
His guess is as good as mine. I pile out of the car. My stuff's at school, but whatever. No one's going to care about homework when you've just vanished in the middle of class. I play video games for the rest of the day. No multiplayer. People are trying to send me electronic messages already. I sleep when I've finished. No dinner. I've had enough life for today.
So, I worked on this instead of my Young Justice story, called Old Mantle, New Mission. I bet I'll expand this too. Review please.
