Short Stories

Synless

The teacher cracked his metre ruler against the blackboard. I had no idea why my English teacher even had a metre ruler, or a blackboard. He never seemed to use either. I looked up from my book to see the teacher glaring at Gracie, "You know the rules Grace, no Syn is allowed to be used in the classroom." Gracie harrumphed and crossed her arms, "But writing hurts my wrists! And if I can do it any ways why shouldn't I practise?" I looked down at her book to see that, once again, her pen was hovering over her page in mid air, her Syn, Telekinesis. "In a real exam, you won't be allowed to use Syn otherwise you'll fail! They have Sensors there you know, to make sure." Gracie pouted but picked her pen out of the air and continued writing. I stared at my pen as hard as I could, willing it to stay upright just like the instructor said, I imagined the pen floating there, I told myself that this time, this time it would work. I let go of my pen. It fell to the desk, then rolled onto the floor. I sighed. That was who I was, some people could do amazing things, run fast, jump high, learn super quickly. Not me, I was perhaps the most unique of them all. I was Synless.

I trudged home, it was a beautiful day, a day when it was difficult to be mad at the world, but I was. Everybody else, everybody I knew, had a Syn. My parents, my neighbours, the old lady that passes by my bus stop every morning. Everyone. The top scientists in the world said that Syn was an extension of our life force, of our soul. Guess there goes that theory, unless I'm dead. Some people said I was lucky, at least I wasn't like Sweats or Stinks, the two weird kids whose nicknames were self-explanatory, but I'm not so sure. At least they can do something. My parents speak to me as if I might have trouble understanding them, slowly and with every syllable pronounced. They call me things like 'Sweety' and 'Honey', things unbefitting of a 13 year old in his first year of college. The one bright spot in my week was going to see Dr. Clarence every Thursday. Today was one of those Thursdays. "Hello sweety!" Mum called from the driveway, "It's Thursday, you know what that means?" She spoke to me as if I was in pre-school. For her sake I played stupid and just nodded, concentrating instead on my PGS, Portable Gaming System.''

Dr. Clarence was nice. She tried her best to help, we went through exercises which were supposed to help you discover your Syn. But they were the sort of thing you gave to five year olds, to people who had obscure Syns, to people who couldn't quite control their Syns, but I was different, no matter how well I knew how to use Syn, the fact remained that I couldn't. Mum had taken me to a Sensor once, someone whose Syn is detecting the use of and manifestation of Syn. They can tell when people are using Syn and can even sense the Syn radiating from everyone who has it, even if they aren't using it. Mum had explained my 'condition' to the man, he had just smirked saying "I've met hundreds of kids just like you Danny, and not one of em didn't walk out-ta here with a new purpose to their life!". The man puffed up his chest, turned on his Syn, then frowned. We were there for just fifteen minutes before he burst a blood vessel trying to find my Syn.

-FIN-

I think that's all I'll write for this one, again message me if you want it continued. Message me in caps if you hate it and want it removed.

P.S - If you message me in caps telling me to remove it I'll just continue the story further, and replace Sweats with your name. I'm the writer, I AM GOOOOD *coughs* ahem, yeah, enjoy the story...