The Boy Witch

Chapter 6

When Miles woke up that morning, lying on his side, Mortimer was purring away, making a loaf on his hip. Miles could not help but smile. Even if his day was not promising, it always started with a little bit of warmth and love from his cat.

Feeling a little bad, Miles had to disturb Mortimer to get up. He stretched the sleep from his arms and yawned powerfully. Mortimer stood close with his tail upright. It was feeding time.

“You hungry?” Miles asked the cat, as he followed along.

Miles carefully stepped out of his room, greeted by the sound of his mother snoring away on the couch. He knew it would be hard to wake her up, so he did not worry too much about making noise.

Reaching the large bag of cat kibble in the kitchen cupboard, Miles served a hungry Mortimer a scoop in his little plastic bowl. Mortimer proceeded to eat immediately.

Miles smiled, before preparing his breakfast, a bowl of cereal without milk because they had run out. The dry cereal crunched way too loud as he ate, and Miles was worried he would wake his mother. But when he looked in the living room from the dinner table, Mallory was still snoring her life away. So, Miles kept eating.

After breakfast, the boy returned in his room to change. He struggled to pick out clothes. He did not have many of them and they were all too big, plain or a little damaged. He settled on a pair of jeans and an ill-fitting hoodie.

Ready to leave for school, Miles said goodbye to Mortimer, who was lying on his bed comfortably, and to the picture of his dad he kept on his nightstand. His heart twisted just a little in his chest as he looked at his father’s picture. Miles did not have many pictures of his dad. His mother had destroyed most of them. In this picture, his dad was holding Miles who was just a baby then, looking down at him, with a wide smile on his face. The teen missed his dad tremendously, but the picture was just a little bit of comfort.

***

Miles hated biology class. Most of his classmates were so excited. They could not wait for the frog dissection, but Miles was absolutely dreading it ever since it was announced at the beginning of the school year. When he entered the classroom, the dead frogs were already sprawled on the table. The biology teacher welcomed his students as they walked in and instructed them to pick a frog and sit in front of it.

Miles stepped in class, filled with anxiety. Students just passed him by, a couple of them knocking into him, signaling their annoyance with Miles’ speed or lack thereof.

He sat in front of a frog, reluctantly. The innocent creature was already dead, dissected at its core, its limbs pinned to a board to reveal its insides. More students came in and sat by their frogs. Some girls were already disgusted, though the dissection had not even started, while most of the boys were excited at the opportunity to cut up something that was once living. Miles was just broken-hearted, staring at the dead creature.

“Settle down, settle down,” the teacher tried to rein in his students, especially the boys who were mocking disgusted girls. “As many of you have noticed, today is the day of the frog dissection.”

Miles found himself not listening much, instead staring at the frog with pity. To think that creature used to jump around without a care in the world. Maybe it had a family. Miles wanted to cry, but he knew how much he would be ridiculed.

He could not help but think of how easy it would be to raise his hands above the corpse, focus and revive the frog. But he knew he could not. Somebody already knew of his powers and that was one person too many. He would never have the gall to do it in front of everybody.

Miles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting out a sigh, to clear his mind.

“Anything you care to share, Miles?” The teacher, disturbed by Miles' deep sigh, asked, followed by some chuckles from the class.