He always loved to draw. From when he was old enough to hold a pencil he sketched endlessly on the borders of newspapers, grocery bags, walls, books, his brothers' homework - anything.
When he was seven he was sitting at his desk at school with his pencil in hand. He sketched a beetle and much to his surprise the beetle sprang to life and scurried across his desk and dropped to the floor. A girl named Flora put out a foot and squished the beetle before it could find shelter. Quickly he drew another beetle, but it wasn't quite perfect. It remained inert on the page. He drew another but he could see it was slightly asymmetric. Then his teacher snatched the pencil from him and made him go to the board and write out some addition practice. He wasn't very good at addition and he had to concentrate. He forgot about the beetle.
A few weeks later he was on the couch watching TV and doodling. He drew a really good mouse and the mouse leapt off the page and dived under the couch and wouldn't come out. When he tried to draw another he couldn't because he was too nervous. He wanted to draw another because he thought the first mouse might be lonely. Then he thought it might be neat to draw a cat to catch the mouse. He drew a very good cat and it too sprang to life but unfortunately it remained the same size as the sketch. The tiny cat dived under the couch and then he heard sounds of battle. Soon the mouse came out with the dead cat in its jaws. As the mouse dragged the cat's body across the floor it started to fade away, and in about a minute both the cat and mouse were gone.
The boy wasn't especially clever. He knew that he could tell no one of his secret power, but he couldn't really think what to do with his new skill. He knew that if he drew a chair or a house it stayed on the page. Flowers and trees did not move. It seemed that only perfect drawings of living creatures came to life. He drew a beautiful space monster but it didn't twitch. He drew a rhinoceros and it snorted away and hid in back of the DVD player and stayed there until it dissolved an hour or so later.
When he heard his mom and dad screaming at each other about divorce one night he pulled out his sketch book and drew his parents. He drew them smiling and holding hands. They didn't scurry away like the animals had. They stood stock still on the page and looked terrified. He heard their tiny voices twittering. Gently he tipped them on the floor. His father seemed to be having a heart attack. He picked his father up and tried to look him in the eye. ``STOP FIGHTING!'' he shouted. He dropped his father on the floor where he lay helpless as his mother pulled at him, squeaking hysterically.
In their bedroom his full sized parents heard his angry shout. They stopped their fight just long enough to realize that their children were listening. They lowered their voices. At least for a while.