Now that I have reached this point in the story, I thought it would be more fitting if the story was told from Cal's point of view.
It was such a relief when I told Jones about the events of the night before. It just felt so good to... tell... someone. Anyone.
I had to control my power though. I had to keep the love.
Somehow I didn't want to. I wanted to be independent, wanted to make my relationship with Mother worth less so I could do what I want. But she would be broken. Like my roof that fateful night.
And I don't think I could ever do that to someone. It's murder. If anything, worse than murder itself.
I didn't want to lose the past. I wanted to hold on to it. I didn't want to become someone else.
I was the one being trusted with the power. I had to conceal it and control it.
"Hey, Cal. How was your day?" My mother asked me. My mother.
"Yeah, pretty average," Cal replied.
"Excuse me while I go to... the - to.. ..ilet..." Cal's mother began to shed tears. She went into the household bathroom and Cal could hear her crying and whispering:
"My boy... my Callum... finally growing up..."
Cal was on the verge of tears as well. How could he do this to his own mother? Why was he failing to keep the love?
He ran up to his bedroom with his head in his hands. He sat on his bed, ashamed. He wished for a mirror to appear in front of himself and it did. Instantly. And Cal could see his pitiful, tiny self in a reflection. So small for someone at such an old age.
"I wish I were taller so that I didn't look so tiny compared to all the other people around me."
Cal watched himself in the mirror. He was so short, so small. Until a huge surge of power ran through him. He was only about five feet tall. He wanted to gain a few feet, and he started stretching. And fast.
He stood up, excited for his growth coming. It was just about to happen... and then it began quicker than he thought it would. Only a few seconds in and he could feel his body convulsing with power and pleasure, watching the world become smaller as he smiled. His legs grew to unnatural lengths and his torso grew in size, making Cal one of the tallest people he had ever seen at his school. And he was still getting taller.
With every heartbeat, ten times more pleasure pulsed through his body and he continued to stretch, and he had gained at least another two feet by now. His trouser legs were much too short for him now, where his shirt was on the verge of ripping.
He kept getting taller by the second, and only when the growth began to die down did his trousers rip to the floor, along with his shirt. He finally stopped at about ten or eleven feet tall, towering far taller than any person he had ever seen in any book.
His manly voice now matched his size, and Cal was left wearing only a pair of socks and his near-empty boxers.
Keep the love, Callum.
He decided to change more.