Guttersnipe
mortal ally
At the Burke residence, Reese was presented with his cheap birthday cake. He was mildly indignant over the fact that it wasn't the ice cream cake he'd asked for, but kept quiet lest his parents accuse him of being an ungrateful brat for the umpteenth time.
Miranda, his only sibling, age ten, had a case of the grins. Reese expected this; she seemed to him to be the only member of his family that actually cared about him. Maybe, one day, she'd grow to be the age he was now and recall the fact that he was an academic failure as well as a hothead and re-evaluate him. But, thankfully for him, she was still young.
Reese blew out the birthday candles, which were arranged in a group of eight and one apart from them, rather than eighteen total.
The young man had been making wishes for years, but always awaited the opportunity with some hope that the magic of it would work.
Now he made his eighteenth birthday wish.
For some time, Reese had been wondering what it would be like to be invisible—literally invisible, not the kind he felt whenever he was home, with his parents only going through the motions of caring for him.
So the wish was made. This time, it worked.
His parents and sister screamed in horror as the teen was reduced to floating attire. Reese attempted to examine himself in the kitchen mirror, only to see no reflection. A rush of excitement washed over him and he ran out of the house without quite knowing why; he had only limited access to the emotional insights most possess.
It later occurred to the young man that there were instances in which he'd need to be visible; bearing that in mind, he stole some foundation from a grocery store, applying it once he'd fled from eye-shot with minimal success.
As for money—he'd received five dollars each from both parent. Originally, his grandfather sent him one hundred, though Reese only received half of it. With this money, he rented a room in a cheap motel.
This would not do, as he knew, but didn't like the idea of working for a living, makeup and all. For him, the most favorable option was theft.
He weighed the pros and cons in his head. In the end, the pros won him over; he would be undetectable, and the crime would not require weapons.
After washing off his makeup and leaving his clothes at the hotel, he entered the nearest bank he could find with shaky resolve.
Reese shadowed an employee to the vault as impatient customers waxed furious over the slow service. His heart giddily raced at the thought of pulling off his plan without facing any consequences of lawbreaking. He held his breath and stared at the woman entering the correct numbers, counting the seconds and listening to her hum an unknown tune while salty water dripped from his brow. After she'd drawn out the amount and closed it, he set to work.
He entered the combination and walked in, still sweating and trembling profusely. He needed to start small; with too big a load, he'd lose it and only attract attention ("Look! It's a flying pile of cash!" he imagined people might say). So he took as much as he could hold onto, peeked around at the distracted customers nervously, and fled without looking back.
Reese sneaked back into his room. He had taken more money than he'd realized. With it, he paid for a weeks stay as well as a mountain of junk food. Flicking on the TV, he saw a picture of him on a local news station, and thought he heard his mother crying. He flicked as if to avoid capture. He did, however, feel some satisfaction in knowing that he'd likely been missed. He decided to stay, though, if only to worry them more.
Reese grew more confident soon, having escaped the law. Over the next few days, he repeated his crimes, the money he amassed being used for rent and for various digital luxuries. People gave him funny looks while he wore his makeup, but that was an insignificantly small price for which he had no trouble paying.
One day, he began to realize that it was not wealth that was his ultimate goal, but power. He'd give away all his ill-gotten gains if it meant being in the presence of people who feared him. So he set out to do things that only power could afford.
He went into a sporting goods shop and studied the place for something dangerously destructive. His grey eyes alighted on a baseball bat. He whipped it around in a few practice swings. Unbeknownst to him, the clerk had seen the seemingly possessed bat and screamed. Now his adrenaline kicked up once again, begging for release. Reese began hitting shelves and various products. On his way out, he smashed a window as if to punctuate his attack.
Once outside, he felt feverishly cold despite the warm sun. A police car was parked outside, and he gave a start as the policemen came out, as they could see him. They rushed into the shop, leaving Reese contemplate their vehicle. With a comedic shrug, he began bashing the exterior. The power he was searching for bubbled up into his chest.
Meanwhile, his sister's birthday was being celebrated at his former residence. He'd forgotten all about her birthday, even though they were only weeks apart. When they set down the birthday cake, the kind she'd wanted, she looked at the bright candles in deep thought. Then she made her wish: that her brother would become visible again, and would get home safely.
It worked instantly.
Reese was now in plain view, he slowly realized, naked and holding a bat. People jeered and pointed. The cops were upon him in seconds. He was arrested and brought to the county jail. In a week, his parents reluctantly bailed him out ("Crocodile tears," he thought, remembering his mother's lachrymose appearance on TV). He was visible—and, perhaps worse, was now back at home. His reign had ended.
Miranda, his only sibling, age ten, had a case of the grins. Reese expected this; she seemed to him to be the only member of his family that actually cared about him. Maybe, one day, she'd grow to be the age he was now and recall the fact that he was an academic failure as well as a hothead and re-evaluate him. But, thankfully for him, she was still young.
Reese blew out the birthday candles, which were arranged in a group of eight and one apart from them, rather than eighteen total.
The young man had been making wishes for years, but always awaited the opportunity with some hope that the magic of it would work.
Now he made his eighteenth birthday wish.
For some time, Reese had been wondering what it would be like to be invisible—literally invisible, not the kind he felt whenever he was home, with his parents only going through the motions of caring for him.
So the wish was made. This time, it worked.
His parents and sister screamed in horror as the teen was reduced to floating attire. Reese attempted to examine himself in the kitchen mirror, only to see no reflection. A rush of excitement washed over him and he ran out of the house without quite knowing why; he had only limited access to the emotional insights most possess.
It later occurred to the young man that there were instances in which he'd need to be visible; bearing that in mind, he stole some foundation from a grocery store, applying it once he'd fled from eye-shot with minimal success.
As for money—he'd received five dollars each from both parent. Originally, his grandfather sent him one hundred, though Reese only received half of it. With this money, he rented a room in a cheap motel.
This would not do, as he knew, but didn't like the idea of working for a living, makeup and all. For him, the most favorable option was theft.
He weighed the pros and cons in his head. In the end, the pros won him over; he would be undetectable, and the crime would not require weapons.
After washing off his makeup and leaving his clothes at the hotel, he entered the nearest bank he could find with shaky resolve.
Reese shadowed an employee to the vault as impatient customers waxed furious over the slow service. His heart giddily raced at the thought of pulling off his plan without facing any consequences of lawbreaking. He held his breath and stared at the woman entering the correct numbers, counting the seconds and listening to her hum an unknown tune while salty water dripped from his brow. After she'd drawn out the amount and closed it, he set to work.
He entered the combination and walked in, still sweating and trembling profusely. He needed to start small; with too big a load, he'd lose it and only attract attention ("Look! It's a flying pile of cash!" he imagined people might say). So he took as much as he could hold onto, peeked around at the distracted customers nervously, and fled without looking back.
Reese sneaked back into his room. He had taken more money than he'd realized. With it, he paid for a weeks stay as well as a mountain of junk food. Flicking on the TV, he saw a picture of him on a local news station, and thought he heard his mother crying. He flicked as if to avoid capture. He did, however, feel some satisfaction in knowing that he'd likely been missed. He decided to stay, though, if only to worry them more.
Reese grew more confident soon, having escaped the law. Over the next few days, he repeated his crimes, the money he amassed being used for rent and for various digital luxuries. People gave him funny looks while he wore his makeup, but that was an insignificantly small price for which he had no trouble paying.
One day, he began to realize that it was not wealth that was his ultimate goal, but power. He'd give away all his ill-gotten gains if it meant being in the presence of people who feared him. So he set out to do things that only power could afford.
He went into a sporting goods shop and studied the place for something dangerously destructive. His grey eyes alighted on a baseball bat. He whipped it around in a few practice swings. Unbeknownst to him, the clerk had seen the seemingly possessed bat and screamed. Now his adrenaline kicked up once again, begging for release. Reese began hitting shelves and various products. On his way out, he smashed a window as if to punctuate his attack.
Once outside, he felt feverishly cold despite the warm sun. A police car was parked outside, and he gave a start as the policemen came out, as they could see him. They rushed into the shop, leaving Reese contemplate their vehicle. With a comedic shrug, he began bashing the exterior. The power he was searching for bubbled up into his chest.
Meanwhile, his sister's birthday was being celebrated at his former residence. He'd forgotten all about her birthday, even though they were only weeks apart. When they set down the birthday cake, the kind she'd wanted, she looked at the bright candles in deep thought. Then she made her wish: that her brother would become visible again, and would get home safely.
It worked instantly.
Reese was now in plain view, he slowly realized, naked and holding a bat. People jeered and pointed. The cops were upon him in seconds. He was arrested and brought to the county jail. In a week, his parents reluctantly bailed him out ("Crocodile tears," he thought, remembering his mother's lachrymose appearance on TV). He was visible—and, perhaps worse, was now back at home. His reign had ended.
