Miracle Child

A short story

Your friends joke wherever you go, computers crash. At a high school science class trip, you hear rapid clicking walking by something in the gift shop. Waving hand over the Geiger counter. Kzzzzzzzzz.

Your parent's cancers. The people who got close and wasted away. It was you. The whole time.

You quickly glance around, to make sure none saw or heard. On the ride back, a seat away from others. No fourteen-year-old should look at their hands and see the death of their parents. Blustery wind as your bus crosses bridge over a deep ravine. It's so far down.

It's

far

enough.