Keller Agre Writing

Originally published by Flash Phantoms 12-27-2024

…

It’s been there since birth. If it was caused by an angel kiss, then something about my right leg was popular in heaven. That thought never helped the teasing, though. My birthmark was ugly compared to most. It was only the size of a quarter, but to me, it was much bigger. Instead of a slightly darker shade of brown, as I’d seen on others, mine had moles in it, and each one grew darker and thicker hair than the rest of my leg. I learned how to use a razor before any of the other kids in my middle school class. Sometimes, Mom would show me baby pictures, but my birthmark ruined them all.

My brother said the fish would bite it if I swam in the lake, so I covered it with a band-aid before every swim. He also said that if I kept shaving it, the hairs would grow thicker and thicker until they were as big as spider legs, and they would scratch me when I slept. I thought if this were true, maybe my birthmark would crawl away one day. When that didn’t happen, I was determined to find another way of getting rid of the awful thing.

“Mom? Can doctors remove something from your skin?” I asked one day in the kitchen when she was making dinner.

“I suppose so. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. Would it hurt?”

“I think they would make you numb, so it wouldn’t hurt,” Mom replied.

“Do you think it’d leave a mark?”

“It would leave a scar.”

 Any mark would be better than what I had.

“Would it cost a lot?”

Mom stopped peeling the potatoes. “Jacob. Is this about your birthmark? I told you, it’s what makes you special.”

My parents loved to use that line. I didn’t want to be special in that way. I wanted to be noticed for something else.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I just don’t want to be made fun of anymore.”

“Oh, honey. You’ll grow up and appreciate what makes you different. Soon, no one will care. And neither will you.”

I seriously doubted this. With surgery no longer an option, I asked one of my classmates if they had any ideas.

“You could try Wite-Out,” Ryan said.

“Maybe toothpaste?” Danny asked after a drink of milk.

“Sometimes,” my friend, Lucas, said, “my mom uses an orange pen thing to get rid of stains on my jeans.”

“Do you think that’d work on my birthmark?” I asked in between bites of pizza.

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “I’ll bring it to school tomorrow, and you can try it.”

“Do you think it’d hurt?” I asked.

Lucas shrugged, and then we moved on to talking about something different.

The next night, with Lucas’s stain remover in hand, I stared at my birthmark. It had more moles inside of it than I remembered. That’s not surprising because I rarely look at it for more than a few seconds while I change clothes. I’ve become an expert at hiding it. Any shorts I wear must go past it, even after a run or a jump. My great uncle has a birthmark on his leg too, but it doesn’t stand out as much on his splotchy old body.

I touched the spot with my finger, hoping this would be the last time I ever would. It was rougher than the skin around it. I twisted the long hairs so that they looked like a teepee.

After removing the stain pen’s cap, I held the tip close to my birthmark. Was Mom right? Did this mark make me special?

No. It was big and ugly. I touched the pen’s tip to my mark.

It moved.

The birthmark slid to the outside of my leg. I was frozen. How did it do that?

I tried to touch the pen’s tip to it again, but it moved again. This time, it shifted up to my waist.

This was better. At least it was easier to cover up. But I wanted to keep trying. Maybe it would eventually pop off my body.

Again, I brought the pen tip close, but it moved up to my chest. That wasn’t good. Now, every time I took my shirt off, it would be seen.

Maybe if I poked my birthmark with the pen really fast, I’d get it. I held the pen about a foot away, then jabbed my chest.

It was gone.

It worked! I couldn’t find my birthmark anywhere. I felt where it had been on my leg, now a smooth patch of skin. Two perfectly matching legs.

I went downstairs to get a drink of water. Mom and Dad were watching a movie. The whole house was dark except for the bright light of the TV. The house rumbled as something happened in the movie. It was a scary movie, and I wasn’t allowed to watch. I flipped on the kitchen light and my mom looked my way.

“Honey?” Mom said. “You have something on your face. Go wash it off.”

I put the glass down and went upstairs to my bathroom. I looked in the mirror.

My birthmark was there.

Right in the middle of my forehead.

This was the worst place possible. I grabbed the stain remover pen from my room and went back into the bathroom. Could I make it go to the top of my head and under my hair? That way, I wouldn’t need to worry about it until I was old. I touched the pen to my birthmark.

It got bigger.

I did it again.

It got bigger again. Now it was the size of a coaster. It had spread to my eyebrows.

Almost my whole forehead was covered in moles. Was I not pressing hard enough?

I gripped the pen tight and jabbed into my forehead.

Then, it was dark.

The End