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Description
I threw some of my pills into my mouth.

"It's a boy!" The nurse exclaimed as she moved the ultrasound over my wives belly. I was happy about the news, but my wife had hoped for a girl. Begrudgingly, she gave me the $50. As the Vaseline like goop was cleaned off and my wife eased herself off her stirrups she gave an "oof."

"What is it?" I asked, alarmed by the pained expression on her face.

"Nothing. The baby is kicking, that's al-ow!" She jerked to the right, twitching with the pain. Eight and half months into a pregnancy, the baby had been kicking for a while now, but never this…violently. We had held off on identifying which gender our baby was till now out of a wanting of surprise. But we had some complications about a month ago, and to make sure everything was alright, we had to come back and identify today.

"Are you alright? Want me to get the nurse," I asked once more, as my wife started fidgeting back and forth, grinding her teeth. And then…her water broke. However, though as exciting as that is, I was witnessing something far more eccentric at the moment, and only blindly poked the nurses call button. My wife was slowly, but surely, floating towards the ceiling.

After the initial eye opening and mouth dropping I quickly held out my hand to prevent her from reaching the ceiling. She held on with both hands. When the nurses arrived they were as shocked as I was, but they quickly sprang into action as my wife began screaming about uterus pain. They pulled her down and strapped her into the chair like a pregnant woman from an insane asylum. I was ushered out into the hallway, the last thing I saw being my wife's belly moving as though they were reenacting "Alien."

Hours passed. I had swallowed a few more pills as I waited. As I was about to put a few more into my mouth I heard one of the doctors screaming, and quickly popped them into my mouth, swallowed, and ran to the door.

"He's flying too fast, we can't catch him with the net!"

I swear I heard the Indiana Jones theme as I peered into witness a doctor lassoing my newborn child with my wives umbilical cord in order to get him to fly circles at a safer altitude.  Hang on a moment. I was hearing the Indiana Jones theme. The doctor was wearing an Indiana Jones hat. And the purple dragon in the corner had a boom box playing the theme.

That explains everything.

I groggily opened my eyes, and quickly shut them again. I had a migraine like no other making my head spin. Eyes still shut I lurched out of bed and walked down the hall, a motion I had done a thousand times in the past six months. The baby monitor was screeching. Blindly, I placed my hands into the crib and pulled the baby out, but then quickly put him back down and left the room. The screaming was killing my head. I had to make a pit stop at the drug cabinet.  A twist of the cap, a flick of the wrist, and my migraine was gone. I waved to the purple dragon, who was reading the paper at the table. I turned back around and went into the baby's room. He was floating around the room, still crying. I held out my arms and he dove into them, clutching my chest like an ape, his cries slowly becoming silent as I hum a tune from the radio.

I still have no explanation for why my son can negate gravity. I ask the purple dragon every day, but he never tells me anything. I will tell you this though; it is incredibly difficult to teach a flying infant how to use the toilet.

My wife calls it an intervention. I wave her off and pull out my pill bottle, which she snatches before I can open.

"You've been high for your child's entire life! Don't you find anything wrong with that?"

"I haven't been high for my child's entire life, don't be ridiculous."

"Really? Well then who was that tripping about outside my operating room the day he was born?"

I waved her off and turned to my son, now an eight month old baby. He was still floating…but drifting to the ground, slowly. Time seemed to slow down as I watched him touch down, and play with his tiny blocks. I turned back to my wife.

"Give it."

"No."

"Give it back!"

I reached to snatch them away from her but she pulled away too fast. She walked out of the room, out of the house, and into the street, throwing the bottle of pills into the neighbor's yard. I watched her flick me off from the window.

My baby wasn't flying. My eight month old son wasn't flying. I ran, slipped, stood up, and slammed into the drug cabinet. I yanked the door open and pulled out all the pill bottles and opened each at random, tossing back pill after pill from each. Waiting a few moments to let the effects take place, I turned to the dinner table. Instead of a purple dragon there was a bright yellow rhinoceros, and he was eating all my cereal. Well, let me tell you, I went and slapped the spoon out of his hand and sent him out of the kitchen. No rhinoceros eats my Reese's Puffs.

I spun around to look at my son, who would be flying around the room, as always. But he wasn't flying. He was just sitting on the floor, staring at me.

"Why…" I mumbled, reaching down and picking him up. "Why won't you fly!?" I screamed as I tossed him into the air. He had this ecstatic expression on his face. For a few brief moments, my son flew, once again. And then he fell.

Child Protective Services and the police showed up soon after my wife walked in. His neck was broken in four places, along with most of the rest of his body. Two of the other breaks had been compound, and it made him into a red-stained lump on the floor. They hauled me off and put me in a courtroom. My wife spilled her guts about my drugs and I was thrown into a drug rehabilitation program. With what I had been doing withdrawal would have been deadly, so they had to wean me off. When they gave me my first pill in my cell the migraine I'd had all day disappeared. I closed my eyes and let the chemicals rinse my nerves clean of any pain.

When I opened my eyes everything in the cell was alive. The bed greeted me by name, and the pillow told me I smelled terrible. As I glanced to the left I found the purple dragon sitting on the toilet with his newspaper, and he nodded at me with acknowledgement.

And then I looked up.

Description
I threw some of my pills into my mouth.

"It's a boy!" The nurse exclaimed as she moved the ultrasound over my wives belly. I was happy about the news, but my wife had hoped for a girl. Begrudgingly, she gave me the $50. As the Vaseline like goop was cleaned off and my wife eased herself off her stirrups she gave an "oof."

"What is it?" I asked, alarmed by the pained expression on her face.

"Nothing. The baby is kicking, that's al-ow!" She jerked to the right, twitching with the pain. Eight and half months into a pregnancy, the baby had been kicking for a while now, but never this…violently. We had held off on identifying which gender our baby was till now out of a wanting of surprise. But we had some complications about a month ago, and to make sure everything was alright, we had to come back and identify today.

"Are you alright? Want me to get the nurse," I asked once more, as my wife started fidgeting back and forth, grinding her teeth. And then…her water broke. However, though as exciting as that is, I was witnessing something far more eccentric at the moment, and only blindly poked the nurses call button. My wife was slowly, but surely, floating towards the ceiling.

After the initial eye opening and mouth dropping I quickly held out my hand to prevent her from reaching the ceiling. She held on with both hands. When the nurses arrived they were as shocked as I was, but they quickly sprang into action as my wife began screaming about uterus pain. They pulled her down and strapped her into the chair like a pregnant woman from an insane asylum. I was ushered out into the hallway, the last thing I saw being my wife's belly moving as though they were reenacting "Alien."

Hours passed. I had swallowed a few more pills as I waited. As I was about to put a few more into my mouth I heard one of the doctors screaming, and quickly popped them into my mouth, swallowed, and ran to the door.

"He's flying too fast, we can't catch him with the net!"

I swear I heard the Indiana Jones theme as I peered into witness a doctor lassoing my newborn child with my wives umbilical cord in order to get him to fly circles at a safer altitude.  Hang on a moment. I was hearing the Indiana Jones theme. The doctor was wearing an Indiana Jones hat. And the purple dragon in the corner had a boom box playing the theme.

That explains everything.

I groggily opened my eyes, and quickly shut them again. I had a migraine like no other making my head spin. Eyes still shut I lurched out of bed and walked down the hall, a motion I had done a thousand times in the past six months. The baby monitor was screeching. Blindly, I placed my hands into the crib and pulled the baby out, but then quickly put him back down and left the room. The screaming was killing my head. I had to make a pit stop at the drug cabinet.  A twist of the cap, a flick of the wrist, and my migraine was gone. I waved to the purple dragon, who was reading the paper at the table. I turned back around and went into the baby's room. He was floating around the room, still crying. I held out my arms and he dove into them, clutching my chest like an ape, his cries slowly becoming silent as I hum a tune from the radio.

I still have no explanation for why my son can negate gravity. I ask the purple dragon every day, but he never tells me anything. I will tell you this though; it is incredibly difficult to teach a flying infant how to use the toilet.

My wife calls it an intervention. I wave her off and pull out my pill bottle, which she snatches before I can open.

"You've been high for your child's entire life! Don't you find anything wrong with that?"

"I haven't been high for my child's entire life, don't be ridiculous."

"Really? Well then who was that tripping about outside my operating room the day he was born?"

I waved her off and turned to my son, now an eight month old baby. He was still floating…but drifting to the ground, slowly. Time seemed to slow down as I watched him touch down, and play with his tiny blocks. I turned back to my wife.

"Give it."

"No."

"Give it back!"

I reached to snatch them away from her but she pulled away too fast. She walked out of the room, out of the house, and into the street, throwing the bottle of pills into the neighbor's yard. I watched her flick me off from the window.

My baby wasn't flying. My eight month old son wasn't flying. I ran, slipped, stood up, and slammed into the drug cabinet. I yanked the door open and pulled out all the pill bottles and opened each at random, tossing back pill after pill from each. Waiting a few moments to let the effects take place, I turned to the dinner table. Instead of a purple dragon there was a bright yellow rhinoceros, and he was eating all my cereal. Well, let me tell you, I went and slapped the spoon out of his hand and sent him out of the kitchen. No rhinoceros eats my Reese's Puffs.

I spun around to look at my son, who would be flying around the room, as always. But he wasn't flying. He was just sitting on the floor, staring at me.

"Why…" I mumbled, reaching down and picking him up. "Why won't you fly!?" I screamed as I tossed him into the air. He had this ecstatic expression on his face. For a few brief moments, my son flew, once again. And then he fell.

Child Protective Services and the police showed up soon after my wife walked in. His neck was broken in four places, along with most of the rest of his body. Two of the other breaks had been compound, and it made him into a red-stained lump on the floor. They hauled me off and put me in a courtroom. My wife spilled her guts about my drugs and I was thrown into a drug rehabilitation program. With what I had been doing withdrawal would have been deadly, so they had to wean me off. When they gave me my first pill in my cell the migraine I'd had all day disappeared. I closed my eyes and let the chemicals rinse my nerves clean of any pain.

When I opened my eyes everything in the cell was alive. The bed greeted me by name, and the pillow told me I smelled terrible. As I glanced to the left I found the purple dragon sitting on the toilet with his newspaper, and he nodded at me with acknowledgement.

And then I looked up.