That night Alessandro did not sleep. This was not possible for him because of the bestial hunger that consumed him. At certain moments the urge to eat something became so intense that he himself was surprised that he had not devoured the pillow. Not that during the day he had not tried to remedy it.

On his way back from the misadventure at the shed pushing his bike by hand, he had stopped at a nearby convenience store, where he had spent all the money he had accumulated in a month of pocket money buying cheese and cookies. However, while this was a snack that would have caused deadly indigestion to even the stoutest of stomachs, he had derived almost no benefit from it.

As already amply ascertained during the week just past, the problem stubbornly continued to nag at him, recurring with greater force at each meal, which according to his stomach was always equally unsatisfactory.

By now it almost seemed to him that his body had become the organic equivalent of a military jet. High performance at the price of rivers of fuel. And instead of filling up he was filling the tank with the metering cup. Continuing at this rate it was obvious that the engine would sooner or later stop, which in his case was equivalent to dying. That is, if he hadn't gone crazy first.

As if all the gigantic amount of worries that were already weighing on his shoulders were not enough. Unlike the remains of the probe in fact, those could not be buried in a field.

The discovery of the powers in the first place, followed by the whole endless series of consequences that dragged in tow. The absolute inability to use a toilet, the collapse of one's school performance, the increasingly intractable temper, and now even the near-breakdown of the Smartphone. Not to mention what he had discovered in the evening in the bathroom.

It could have changed.

He did not know to what extent, and perhaps he was even afraid to find out, but he could. All he had to do was to picture in his mind the exact image of what he wanted to achieve and it took shape in reality. The hand wound, the rosacea, the acne, the pimples, down to the most insignificant skin imperfections, everything. Regardless of the absurdity of the request, it was enough to wish for it to be granted.

At least at first, his doubts about how this was actually possible had been many, but after seeing his own hair become shoulder-length and then dyed a bright blue, he had simply stopped asking himself questions.

In fact, had it not been for the side effects brought on by his new condition, Alessandro would not have hesitated to get caught up in the euphoria. Unfortunately for him, however, hunger made such an assumption impossible. What's more, he could not complain about it to anyone but himself.

Whether he liked it or not, the absurdity would be worth getting used to quickly, because that was now his reality. The real problem remained figuring out how long he would continue to experience it. If he could not find an abundant food source quickly in fact, his options remained essentially two.

Confess everything and be hospitalized who knows where, or passively accept their fate, allowing themselves to be overwhelmed by what loomed as a long and gruesome agony.

Having finished the third bowl of cereal and drunk the milk as well, Alessandro wasted no time before reserving the same treatment for the pair of oranges and the banana that lay on the table in front of him. Brushing those too, leaving behind only the peels, he therefore set off on an assault on the box of snacks, which he began to devour almost angrily as soon as he unwrapped them from the package.

With his mouth still full of sponge cake, he was about to grab the fourth when Elisa snatched the box away from him, pushing it out of his reach.

''You've eaten enough, honey,'' she said in a good-natured tone. ''Save these for tomorrow.''

''I'm hungry,'' Alessandro retorted testily.

She bent over the table extending her arm, but before she could grab the box of snacks her mother took it in her hands.

''Hang in there until lunch, come on.''

''I can't resist,'' Alessandro hissed through clenched teeth. ''I'm telling you I'm still hungry.''

Placing the box back inside the cupboard, Elisa took a rennet from the fruit bowl and placed it in front of him.

''Here, take it.''

Though quivering with the rage he was barely holding back, Alessandro grabbed the apple and took to devouring it, tearing off large, voracious bites.

Taking her eyes off her own bowl of cereal, Alice looked at it curiously without comment, but when she saw him eating the core as well, she could no longer resist.

''Are you training for some kind of challenge or--''

''Don't you get involved, too,'' growled Alessandro in a low voice.

Offended by that disproportionate reaction Alice looked away and resumed concentrating on her cereal. As soon as she had finished her milk, she stood up.

''Mom, I'm going out,'' he announced simply.

"Where are you going?" Elisa asked him while cleaning his dirty bowl in the sink.

''At Vanessa's,'' she replied quietly. And because her mother seemed about to say something, she hastened to add, ''No, we won't be alone. Her mother is in the house.''

Elisa seemed reassured.

''Ah, okay, say hello, then,'' he said, closing the tap. ''Come back here for lunch though, mind you.''

''All right.''

Alice had already run to retrieve the coat hanging on the coat rack at the entrance when her mother called her back.

''Are you forgetting something?" she asked slyly.

Retracing her steps, Alice reached her mother and then printed a quick kiss on her cheek.

''Hello Mom''

''Have fun,'' she wished her.

For as long as it took his sister to put on her shoes and jacket, Alessandro remained impassively in place, keeping his gaze fixed on the anthropomorphic bear printed above the now-empty cereal box.

Clenching his fists in impatience, he then waited until he heard the door at the entrance close, at which point he stood up. Elisa was still stowing Alice's bowl inside the dish rack when her son finished rounding the table, placing himself at the end of the short passage that separated the cabinet from the kitchen countertop.

''Mom,'' he said dryly.

Elisa gave him a fleeting glance, and after closing the dish rack door, she began clearing the table again.

''Yes, honey.''

''I need money,'' Alessandro confessed.

Elisa shook the cereal box and once she was sure it was empty, she threw it into the paper container under the sink.

''What about your allowance, have you finished it yet?''

''Yes''

Noticing that he had forgotten a spoon in the bottom of the sink, he turned on the faucet to give it a rinse.

''What do you need the money for?''

''Buying stuff,'' Alessandro replied vaguely.

For a few moments after receiving that answer Elisa became perfectly still, although she then resumed rubbing the spoon with the sponge.

''Well, if you just have to buy stuff, you can always wait until next week,'' she concluded quietly as she turned off the faucet.

''I cannot wait, I need them now,'' replied Alessandro in a firm tone.

Elisa placed the spoon back in the colander and closed the door.

"For what?" she asked, turning toward him.

''Buying stuff,'' Alessandro repeated, sustaining his gaze.

''Alessandro, you are beginning to scare me,'' Elisa confessed. ''What do you mean by stuff?''

''It's not what you think,'' Alessandro retorted impatiently. ''I don't drink, smoke or do drugs, okay?''

"Then what do you need the money for?

Alessandro opened his mouth to speak, but Elisa anticipated him.

''If you dare to answer me with stuff again, I promise you that the next allowance you'll see with a telescope,'' she threatened, pointing her index finger at him.

Clenching his fists in anger Alessandro lowered his gaze, in an attempt to hide the grim expression that was surfacing on his face.

It had been a mistake to expose himself like that. He should have left right away. The risk of saying something stupid became higher with each passing second.

''To nothing,'' he hissed coldly. ''Pretend I didn't say anything.''

And turning away he immediately began to march in the direction of the door at the entrance.

''Wait a moment you,'' blurted Elisa in an imperious voice.

Alessandro knew that tone well, because it was the same tone he used when he got angry. Something that his mother hardly ever got. Although reluctantly, Alessandro stopped his advance and returned to face Elisa.

''Tell me right now what you need the money for, or you don't get out of here,'' she admonished him as soon as they had reestablished eye contact.

Initially Alessandro did not respond. The inner struggle he was waging in his mind as to whether or not he should confess the truth was still in full swing. However, it only took a few seconds of waiting before he decided to break the silence.

''Food,'' he admitted dryly.

Elisa's eyes widened.

"Food?" she repeated incredulously.

''Yes, food,'' he confirmed.

Judging by his expression, it seemed that Elisa was torn between taking him seriously and bursting out laughing.

''You've always had an appetite, but now it's going too far,'' he said in a light tone. ''The last few days all you've been thinking about is that.''

''It's not my fault, I need it!" blurted out Alessandro indignantly.

''I don't want to be a stickler, but you don't seem undernourished,'' she joked.

Concentrating intently on the image he had just pictured in his mind, Alessandro prayed wholeheartedly that his body would obey the order, and after grabbing the lower flaps of his own sweatshirt, he lifted it up sharply.

At the sight of her son's bare chest, Elisa's face contracted into a grimace of absolute terror, providing Alessandro with tangible confirmation of the success of his attempt. Then again, that scrawny physique with its protruding ribs would have made an impression on anyone.

''Oh, Christ,'' commented Elisa shocked.

''Now do you understand that I need more food?" urged Alessandro, putting her sweatshirt back on. ''Allow me to eat more and I'm fine.''

''No, nothing is quite right here,'' retorted Elisa, barely restraining her agitation. ''I'll make you a plate of pasta now, but first I'll call the doctor right away.''

"What!" exclaimed Alessandro in amazement.

''The doctor,'' Elisa repeated, as she checked her pockets for her smart phone. ''I'm going to call him now.''

''I don't need doctors,'' replied Alessandro, trying to appear confident. ''I am perfectly fine.''

His mother, however, did not seem to listen to him. Since he could not find the Smartphone in his pants, he then hurried to check inside the key-ring bowl that stood on one of the kitchen shelves.

''I can't find my cell phone,'' she confessed distraughtly after a brief search. ''Come on honey, help me look for it.''

''Did you hear me!" blurted Alessandro, ignoring her. ''I told you I'm fine!''

''Something is wrong Alessandro, can't you see that!" exclaimed Elisa as she turned back to look at him. ''Height aside you have always had an average physique. You certainly weren't fat, but you weren't a stick either. And yet now, all of a sudden...''

As the words died in his throat his eyes filled with tears.

''My baby,'' she whispered in a broken voice, bringing her hand to her mouth. ''What's wrong with you?

''Nothing is happening to me,'' insisted Alessandro, who, however, now felt fear growing inside him. ''I just need to eat more!''

''You can see your ribs like you came out of a concentration camp!'' Elisa pointed out to him in terror. ''This is not normal. Not with what you're eating. Maybe it's hyperthyroidism or some other syndrome. In any case, we need to have you examined as soon as possible.''

He headed for the living room and continued searching for his cell phone.

''As soon as I find this damn ... ah, there it is.''

Spotting the Smartphone among the couch cushions, he immediately grabbed it and then began to dial the number.

Alessandro widened his eyes. He could not allow her to call the doctor, otherwise he would find out the truth. If she couldn't even cut her hair and survived unscathed from falls from skyscrapers, how on earth could she expect a withdrawal to be successful!

''You're exaggerating,'' he retorted, in a desperate attempt to run for cover. ''I'm not that bad off.''

''I am nearsighted, Alessandro, not blind,'' Elisa replied in annoyance.

He had just brought the Smartphone close to his ear when Alessandro lifted his sweatshirt again, exposing his chest for the second time. In this case, however, what his mother saw was not the bust of an extreme anorexic, but that of a normal seventeen-year-old boy. Dry and fit, with no obvious symptoms of malnutrition.

''What the hell?" mumbled Elisa, as she lowered the hand holding the cell phone.

Taking advantage of that moment of distraction, Alessandro walked toward her.

''I told you. You are exaggerating.

And snatching the Smartphone from her hand, he canceled the call.

Lowering her gaze, Elisa stared at the floor with a dumbfounded expression, and after a few moments in which she seemed on the verge of losing her balance due to a bout of vertigo, she took a seat on the side of the sofa.

''Maybe I am the one who is sick,'' he confessed while keeping his eyes downcast. ''I am hallucinating.''

Devoured by guilt for reducing her to that state, Alessandro placed his cell phone on the coffee table and then sat down next to his mother.

''It had nothing to do with hallucinations,'' he reassured her. ''You were influenced by my words and your brain saw what it expected to see. It's a matter of the subconscious mind.''

''Where did you hear such a thing?" asked Elisa without looking away from the carpet under the coffee table.

''I read it on the Internet,'' Alessandro replied, inventing on the spot. ''It was an article about conspiracy theories.''

''Then I look really bad,'' Elisa commented wryly, sketching a smile.

''You look great mom. And so do I,'' replied Alessandro, shaking his head. ''Forget what I said before. It was just nonsense.''

''Even if you're not reduced to skin and bones, you still have to have something,'' Elisa insisted, wringing her hands. ''Or maybe it's me underestimating the appetite of a 17-year-old...''

She turned to look at him, and for Alessandro it was like getting punched right in the nose. His mother's eyes were swollen with tears.

''Look, I don't want to be a sadistic harasser. If you're really that hungry, go ahead and eat, honey. Open the refrigerator and take whatever you want.''

She reached out and stroked his cheek affectionately.

''In fact, I'll make you something. Do you want a gorgonzola sandwich? I'll make you a gorgonzola sandwich. Even two if you like. All for you, okay?''

Alessandro did not think he had ever hated himself so much. He was so furious, he would have gladly kicked himself in the teeth on his own, and although in the end he preferred to avoid extreme gestures so as not to frighten his mother, on the other hand, it was literally impossible for him not to follow suit.

Now her eyes were also filled with tears.

''I'm fine, Mom,'' he said in a cracked voice. ''You don't have to do anything.'' And without being able to restrain himself any longer, he threw his arms around her neck. ''I love you.''

''My baby,'' sobbed Elisa as she stroked his back. ''My baby.