Oh god. Oh my god, I’ve got cancer or something. I’m dying.
I don’t feel sick, but staring at this… this thing, in front of me, I’m pretty sure that I’ve got some sort of disease. Healthy people usually don’t vomit at all, unless they’ve been drinking or something. I haven’t been drinking, so I can’t use that as my excuse.
And even if I had been drinking before now, I wouldn’t vomit up this pink ball of…
Is it moving?
I think I’m going to be sick again.
Oh man. Breathe, James, breathe. I even try saying it out loud, hoping that maybe the sound of my own voice will snap me out of this, wake me up from this nightmare. “Breathe, James, you idiot,” I tell myself. “None of this is real. You’re having a dream.”
That’s all that this is. It’s a dream where I come back to my dorm room, fall down on my hands and knees, and then throw up a grapefruit-sized ball of something pink and squishy, which seems to be still alive.
In fact, it’s definitely alive. There are little tendrils coming out of it, and it’s pulling its way across my desk towards the old plate of French fries from last night. It’s leaving a trail of slime behind it. That’s really gross.
I wipe my mouth, although now that this gunk, whatever it is, is out of me, I feel a lot better. Physically, at least. My brain is still pretty disgusted and horrified by the whole situation.
Suddenly, a terrible fear hits me. Is this my power? Do I vomit on people, throw up tumors or something? I can’t even think of a more disgusting ability.
Well, I guess I can. I could turn into a blob like this, every time I get too excited. Or maybe I could turn green whenever I get an erection. That would be a pretty shitty power.
Just as the blob started to reach my plate of old fries, the door to my dorm room opened with a bang. “James, my man!” sung out my roommate, breezing inside, floating a few inches off the ground as usual. “How’s it hanging?”
“Mark, this really isn’t the time,” my mouth said, as my brain struggled and gibbered. I’d only met the guy a few days ago, and I already knew that he was loads cooler than me. Mark knew how to talk to people, flirt with girls, and his power let him show off all the time. “I’m, uh, sick.”
“Sick? Did you duck out and hit a party last night? You dog, I knew you had it in you-” Mark’s voice cut off abruptly as he floated up close enough to see the blob on my desk. “Uh, dude? What’s that?”
The glow faded from his hands as he lowered back down to Earth. That was Mark’s ability – levitation, along with the ability to move other objects using telekinetic force. “I’m a seven, but it’s nothing amazing,” he told me when we first moved into the dorm room together, a few days earlier. He added a casual shrug. “Heck, even I was surprised when they gave me such a high power ranking. I mainly just use it to save on gas, fly around.”
I knew that most telekinetics couldn’t lift themselves, so Mark’s powers were more unusual than he admitted. Still, he just brushed off my congratulations on his ranking, dreading the question that I knew would come next.
“So, what’s your power?”
And there it was. I’d shrugged, admitted that I hadn’t manifested anything, that I might not have a power at all. I gave him a brave little smile, waved away his apologies, even as the ball of self-hatred and shame grew a little bit bigger in my stomach. That’s right. James didn’t have any powers. James was the normie, the weird one. James was the one that everyone should feel sorry for, because he can’t do anything.
Mark was gracious about it, at least, and didn’t ask any other questions. Still, I felt his judgment, hated how it made me feel small and worthless.
I was normal. I was boring.
Or I had been, until I threw up this blob. Now, I kind of wished that I could go back to not having any powers at all.
Mark edged closer. His hand floated out towards the blob, finger extended. He moved in, about to poke the blob-
-and then suddenly, the blob shot out a tendril, wrapping around his finger.
Mark’s eyes widened. “Dude, what the hell?”
“I don’t know!” The tendril only held onto my roommate’s finger for a second, at least, and then Mark was able to pull his hand free. He took a few steps back, looking more shaken than I’d expected. “Mark, I’m sorry, it just seems to have come out of me-”
“Just, uh, do something about it, okay?” He took another few steps back, turning around and ducking out through the door without waiting for an answer.
I looked after him for a second, and then turned to stare back at the blob in shock. What the hell was going on?
The blob twitched. And then, shaking a little, it rose up from the desk.
Oh my god. Just like Mark, it was floating. Levitating.
And then a tendril shot out and touched me, and I felt my butt rise up, very slowly, out of the chair…