Split (1)

train · 353k rows

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Really excited to hear some good responses!	[WP] Having just been read your fortune and told you have but 24 hours to live, you go on a rampent crime spree. After 24 hours of violent crime, you watch your last few seconds tick away. The clock hits 0:00, signifying the end of 24 hours; and nothing happens.	"Well... shit." A cold sinking feeling ran down my spine as the realization that the gypsy's prediction was wrong hit me like a ton of bricks. I twitched in my seat, eyes darting around the lavishly furnished penthouse that I had so carefully persuaded myself into. "Now what do I do?" The thought seemed so stupid. I had planed this out so carefully... But... I had nothing for what would come after... THERE WASN'T SUPPOSE TO BE AN AFTER! Maybe she was off? Maybe I should just wait it out? Yeah... let's just wait and see. Another glass of bourbon. Some of those high class finger foods they serve at weddings... You know... this isn't so bad. I could get used to this. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table in front of me and flipped on the TV to one the local news channels. "And now back to tonight's top story of man who seems to have nothing to lose. In less than twenty four hours he's single handedly knocked over five banks, of which he took only a few thousand dollars, leaving behind only a signature calling card with the word 'Gotcha!' written on it." They don't even know about the sixth... a shame. That one was my best work... swapped all the money out for fliers of hookers. "He mooned the president and ran away screaming, 'Thanks Obama'. Some how managing to slip away from the secret service." Damn right I did. The look on his face... Priceless. "There are even claims that he spray painted 'Eat Shit' on one of the walls inside capitol hill." And that's just half of it... "Police reports his last known location somewhere in the downtown metro D.C. area. If you see this man, please contact your local police department as soon as possible." Aww... not even a good picture of me. Oh well... there's always next ti- wait no no there wasn't suppose to be a next time. Why hasn't it happened yet? Damn that gypsy woman. A knock at the door wrecked my train of thought and brought me from the stupor that I was so absorbed in. "Room service." A mans voice came from the other side of the door. I didn't order any room service. I stood from my seat and weaved my way to the door, a knot in the pit of my stomach slowing my progress. Another series knocking came before I could get the door, louder and more aggressive than the last, and again the man called from behind it, "Room service, sir." I didn't order any room service. And there was not another knock on the door.	"Stop--" He was dead before he hit the floor. Laura smiled, then wept. She threw the knife on the ground. Two minutes left on her watch. The gas station was deserted, bright lights illuminating the snacks for her and only her. What a way to end it all, she thought. Wiping away her tears was useless. Her eyes only flooded again moments later, giving her vision a blurry filter that made it impossible to distinguish what was in front of her. A minute thirty left on the clock. She left the body for the tantalizing snacks. They were so bright. Compared to what she had done in the last twenty-four hours, one murder for a pack of powdered donuts was nothing. Her tears spilled over onto her cheeks. A minute left. Let this be a small comfort, she prayed to a God she couldn't possibly believe in, Let me pass away with something tasty to keep me company. Hysterical laughter whipped out from deep inside her, burning the back of her throat as it came out rough and dry. She fell to her knees, coughing, checking her watch. Fifteen seconds left on the clock. Fuck. Tears smudged the labels of the bags in front of her, and she reached out at random, picking out what she hoped were powdered donuts. She ripped open the top and drew out a donut, shoving it into her mouth and ignoring the tears and snot that mingled with it along the way. She glanced at her watch and chewed. Three seconds left on the clock. She closed her eyes and savored the taste of the powdered sugar, trying to ignore the salty taste of tears and snot that had fallen on the donut. She chewed and waited. And waited. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Heaven, or Hell, or nothing at all. The rows and rows of sweets stared back at her. She checked her watch. Zero seconds left on the clock. Had the voices lied? They'd told her to set the timer for twenty-four hours. Promised her she'd be dead on the very last second, released from the confusion that haunted her day by day. They had promised. She screamed. A car rolled up to a parking spot. She didn't hear as the driver entered the store and began screaming with her. She didn't watch as he fumbled for his cell phone, dialing 911 and sobbing as he choked out a description of what he was seeing. She screamed.
Really excited to hear some good responses!	[WP] Having just been read your fortune and told you have but 24 hours to live, you go on a rampent crime spree. After 24 hours of violent crime, you watch your last few seconds tick away. The clock hits 0:00, signifying the end of 24 hours; and nothing happens.	The witch hobbled through the door, adjusted her tattered cloak - and stopped. The room had been painted wall to wall in blood - corpses littered the ground. "You're supposed to be dead." The man shrugged lightly, tossing an empty handgun to the ground. "And you're supposed to be infallible." "You can't - I - you were going to get hit by a bus." "Killed the driver." "The waiter at the restaurant hadn't washed his ha-" "The restaurant is gone." The witch sighed heavily. "And the assassin?" She received only a sheepish grin. "Alright, so you win - I guess destinies can be changed. Somewhat. I'm not totally convinced, though - you could die tomorrow, or..." The man grinned faintly. "Give it up, Maurice." He blinked. "By the way - how long do you have to live?" She paused for a moment in confusion, pursing her lips. "A few decades. Why?" He grabbed a bloodied knife off the nearest table. "Wrong."	Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck. I should be dead, the oracle said id be dead by now. " I repeat drop the gun and put your hands up" oh fuck, I'm not cut out for prison. The corpses strewn across the room look at me, judge me, saying "look at yourself, your just a thug who went on a killing spree". I look at the gun in my hand, I was dead if i went to prison, dead meat. The oracles had said I would be dead in 24 hours, but now i was alive, now.... Now there was only one option: to fulfill the oracles prophecy. I raised the gun to my head.
Really excited to hear some good responses!	[WP] Having just been read your fortune and told you have but 24 hours to live, you go on a rampent crime spree. After 24 hours of violent crime, you watch your last few seconds tick away. The clock hits 0:00, signifying the end of 24 hours; and nothing happens.	The witch hobbled through the door, adjusted her tattered cloak - and stopped. The room had been painted wall to wall in blood - corpses littered the ground. "You're supposed to be dead." The man shrugged lightly, tossing an empty handgun to the ground. "And you're supposed to be infallible." "You can't - I - you were going to get hit by a bus." "Killed the driver." "The waiter at the restaurant hadn't washed his ha-" "The restaurant is gone." The witch sighed heavily. "And the assassin?" She received only a sheepish grin. "Alright, so you win - I guess destinies can be changed. Somewhat. I'm not totally convinced, though - you could die tomorrow, or..." The man grinned faintly. "Give it up, Maurice." He blinked. "By the way - how long do you have to live?" She paused for a moment in confusion, pursing her lips. "A few decades. Why?" He grabbed a bloodied knife off the nearest table. "Wrong."	The beeping was blaring though it only came from his watch, a loyal digital wrist one. He opened the only eye he could, being the right. The left was a dark cold red hole that didn't bleed. Bits of shattered glass like diamonds littered the office floor, jagged stalactites of glass where a window used to be. Red painted nails connected to bloodied fingers led to a golden watch along a wrist connected to a body hidden behind a desk. It lay there with the diamonds, and though you couldn't tell by looking, it was getting cold. One-eyed he looked down at his watch that held up the green zeros, all four eggs in a line on his watch, the loyal one. He stared out into the airless night, airless because it was windless, and his left arm lifted the hand that gripped the gun. Three shots rang out sending orange hot steal blazing into the dark. He thought it might wake an event, but it didn't. Instead, a certainty was creeping away from him that left behind emptiness. Turning away, he pushed the door open with his leg and lurched into the hallway. Three more watches connected to wrists on the floor in the hall, one without, two with painted nails, no diamonds out here. Half way to the elevator his left leg gave out. I would describe also that his ankle had split and his shin was partially shattered, but he didn't feel it, so what's the point. Falling onto his right knee he dropped the gun and dragged himself forward navigating the mire of blood and limbs. Slowly he reached for the elevator button leaving a neat carmine finger print encased by a downward arrow and an orange halo. The doors opened, two watches on the ground, one with a Micky Mouse face designed to hold numbers in its smiling mouth. Soft music moved like a tangible substance in the space, and he was submerged in it as he scraped his body inward. He rested his head against the little girls blond hair splayed across on the damp red-brown carpet. Staring up at the lights of the elevator his eyes were blank. The doors closed and he began his descent.
Really excited to hear some good responses!	[WP] Having just been read your fortune and told you have but 24 hours to live, you go on a rampent crime spree. After 24 hours of violent crime, you watch your last few seconds tick away. The clock hits 0:00, signifying the end of 24 hours; and nothing happens.	He sat in his torn felt chair, exhausted. It had almost been twenty four hours since the fortune, read as the clock rang twelve midnight. He lifted his wrist to check the time, in his last minute on the earth. Fresh blood dropped from his raw face, stuck with shattered glass. Everything hurt. 45 seconds. Sirens rang through the streets. He turned to glance out the second-story window - or what was left of it. Red, blue, red, blue, across the buildings around him. It was almost like a lullaby, if only he could just sleep. 30 seconds. Screaming, yelling everywhere. It echoed through the silent night, accompanied only by the sirens that grew ever louder. He felt nothing for what he's done. He refused to live his last day anything but to the fullest. But how could he even call it the fullest? 15 seconds. He remembered the faces of the people who he killed. He had been mad. Irrational. Given others the same fate bestowed on him, but why? 10 seconds. His red-stained hands found the pistol that lay on the chipped table beside him. He raised it, but this time, there was no innocent child before him. 5 seconds. Everyone was angry. So loud. The police were breaking through the door. Why couldn't they let him have peace in his final seconds? 3 seconds. He looked at the gun that caused others so much pain. 1 second. He closed his eyes just as the police ran up the stairs. They could never reach him in time. He waited for his senses to dull. A sharp pain, maybe, then nothing. But it all continued, all too real. The police surrounded him, and for the first time in twenty-four hours he was scared. His watch read zero across the screen. There were guns pointed at him from all angles. They were cautious, as though he were going to kill them all in one shot. Vomit rushed up his throat, and he choked it back down. In the officers' faces he saw those of his coworkers, neighbors. All dead for petty reasons. He felt sick, nauseous at the realization at what he'd done. He raised the pistol to his mouth. The clock struck twelve midnight, and the pistol fell to the floor. EDIT: read the prompt wrong, fixed story.	The beeping was blaring though it only came from his watch, a loyal digital wrist one. He opened the only eye he could, being the right. The left was a dark cold red hole that didn't bleed. Bits of shattered glass like diamonds littered the office floor, jagged stalactites of glass where a window used to be. Red painted nails connected to bloodied fingers led to a golden watch along a wrist connected to a body hidden behind a desk. It lay there with the diamonds, and though you couldn't tell by looking, it was getting cold. One-eyed he looked down at his watch that held up the green zeros, all four eggs in a line on his watch, the loyal one. He stared out into the airless night, airless because it was windless, and his left arm lifted the hand that gripped the gun. Three shots rang out sending orange hot steal blazing into the dark. He thought it might wake an event, but it didn't. Instead, a certainty was creeping away from him that left behind emptiness. Turning away, he pushed the door open with his leg and lurched into the hallway. Three more watches connected to wrists on the floor in the hall, one without, two with painted nails, no diamonds out here. Half way to the elevator his left leg gave out. I would describe also that his ankle had split and his shin was partially shattered, but he didn't feel it, so what's the point. Falling onto his right knee he dropped the gun and dragged himself forward navigating the mire of blood and limbs. Slowly he reached for the elevator button leaving a neat carmine finger print encased by a downward arrow and an orange halo. The doors opened, two watches on the ground, one with a Micky Mouse face designed to hold numbers in its smiling mouth. Soft music moved like a tangible substance in the space, and he was submerged in it as he scraped his body inward. He rested his head against the little girls blond hair splayed across on the damp red-brown carpet. Staring up at the lights of the elevator his eyes were blank. The doors closed and he began his descent.
Really excited to hear some good responses!	[WP] Having just been read your fortune and told you have but 24 hours to live, you go on a rampent crime spree. After 24 hours of violent crime, you watch your last few seconds tick away. The clock hits 0:00, signifying the end of 24 hours; and nothing happens.	"Well... shit." A cold sinking feeling ran down my spine as the realization that the gypsy's prediction was wrong hit me like a ton of bricks. I twitched in my seat, eyes darting around the lavishly furnished penthouse that I had so carefully persuaded myself into. "Now what do I do?" The thought seemed so stupid. I had planed this out so carefully... But... I had nothing for what would come after... THERE WASN'T SUPPOSE TO BE AN AFTER! Maybe she was off? Maybe I should just wait it out? Yeah... let's just wait and see. Another glass of bourbon. Some of those high class finger foods they serve at weddings... You know... this isn't so bad. I could get used to this. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table in front of me and flipped on the TV to one the local news channels. "And now back to tonight's top story of man who seems to have nothing to lose. In less than twenty four hours he's single handedly knocked over five banks, of which he took only a few thousand dollars, leaving behind only a signature calling card with the word 'Gotcha!' written on it." They don't even know about the sixth... a shame. That one was my best work... swapped all the money out for fliers of hookers. "He mooned the president and ran away screaming, 'Thanks Obama'. Some how managing to slip away from the secret service." Damn right I did. The look on his face... Priceless. "There are even claims that he spray painted 'Eat Shit' on one of the walls inside capitol hill." And that's just half of it... "Police reports his last known location somewhere in the downtown metro D.C. area. If you see this man, please contact your local police department as soon as possible." Aww... not even a good picture of me. Oh well... there's always next ti- wait no no there wasn't suppose to be a next time. Why hasn't it happened yet? Damn that gypsy woman. A knock at the door wrecked my train of thought and brought me from the stupor that I was so absorbed in. "Room service." A mans voice came from the other side of the door. I didn't order any room service. I stood from my seat and weaved my way to the door, a knot in the pit of my stomach slowing my progress. Another series knocking came before I could get the door, louder and more aggressive than the last, and again the man called from behind it, "Room service, sir." I didn't order any room service. And there was not another knock on the door.	The beeping was blaring though it only came from his watch, a loyal digital wrist one. He opened the only eye he could, being the right. The left was a dark cold red hole that didn't bleed. Bits of shattered glass like diamonds littered the office floor, jagged stalactites of glass where a window used to be. Red painted nails connected to bloodied fingers led to a golden watch along a wrist connected to a body hidden behind a desk. It lay there with the diamonds, and though you couldn't tell by looking, it was getting cold. One-eyed he looked down at his watch that held up the green zeros, all four eggs in a line on his watch, the loyal one. He stared out into the airless night, airless because it was windless, and his left arm lifted the hand that gripped the gun. Three shots rang out sending orange hot steal blazing into the dark. He thought it might wake an event, but it didn't. Instead, a certainty was creeping away from him that left behind emptiness. Turning away, he pushed the door open with his leg and lurched into the hallway. Three more watches connected to wrists on the floor in the hall, one without, two with painted nails, no diamonds out here. Half way to the elevator his left leg gave out. I would describe also that his ankle had split and his shin was partially shattered, but he didn't feel it, so what's the point. Falling onto his right knee he dropped the gun and dragged himself forward navigating the mire of blood and limbs. Slowly he reached for the elevator button leaving a neat carmine finger print encased by a downward arrow and an orange halo. The doors opened, two watches on the ground, one with a Micky Mouse face designed to hold numbers in its smiling mouth. Soft music moved like a tangible substance in the space, and he was submerged in it as he scraped his body inward. He rested his head against the little girls blond hair splayed across on the damp red-brown carpet. Staring up at the lights of the elevator his eyes were blank. The doors closed and he began his descent.
Really excited to hear some good responses!	[WP] Having just been read your fortune and told you have but 24 hours to live, you go on a rampent crime spree. After 24 hours of violent crime, you watch your last few seconds tick away. The clock hits 0:00, signifying the end of 24 hours; and nothing happens.	"Well... shit." A cold sinking feeling ran down my spine as the realization that the gypsy's prediction was wrong hit me like a ton of bricks. I twitched in my seat, eyes darting around the lavishly furnished penthouse that I had so carefully persuaded myself into. "Now what do I do?" The thought seemed so stupid. I had planed this out so carefully... But... I had nothing for what would come after... THERE WASN'T SUPPOSE TO BE AN AFTER! Maybe she was off? Maybe I should just wait it out? Yeah... let's just wait and see. Another glass of bourbon. Some of those high class finger foods they serve at weddings... You know... this isn't so bad. I could get used to this. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table in front of me and flipped on the TV to one the local news channels. "And now back to tonight's top story of man who seems to have nothing to lose. In less than twenty four hours he's single handedly knocked over five banks, of which he took only a few thousand dollars, leaving behind only a signature calling card with the word 'Gotcha!' written on it." They don't even know about the sixth... a shame. That one was my best work... swapped all the money out for fliers of hookers. "He mooned the president and ran away screaming, 'Thanks Obama'. Some how managing to slip away from the secret service." Damn right I did. The look on his face... Priceless. "There are even claims that he spray painted 'Eat Shit' on one of the walls inside capitol hill." And that's just half of it... "Police reports his last known location somewhere in the downtown metro D.C. area. If you see this man, please contact your local police department as soon as possible." Aww... not even a good picture of me. Oh well... there's always next ti- wait no no there wasn't suppose to be a next time. Why hasn't it happened yet? Damn that gypsy woman. A knock at the door wrecked my train of thought and brought me from the stupor that I was so absorbed in. "Room service." A mans voice came from the other side of the door. I didn't order any room service. I stood from my seat and weaved my way to the door, a knot in the pit of my stomach slowing my progress. Another series knocking came before I could get the door, louder and more aggressive than the last, and again the man called from behind it, "Room service, sir." I didn't order any room service. And there was not another knock on the door.	He sat in his torn felt chair, exhausted. It had almost been twenty four hours since the fortune, read as the clock rang twelve midnight. He lifted his wrist to check the time, in his last minute on the earth. Fresh blood dropped from his raw face, stuck with shattered glass. Everything hurt. 45 seconds. Sirens rang through the streets. He turned to glance out the second-story window - or what was left of it. Red, blue, red, blue, across the buildings around him. It was almost like a lullaby, if only he could just sleep. 30 seconds. Screaming, yelling everywhere. It echoed through the silent night, accompanied only by the sirens that grew ever louder. He felt nothing for what he's done. He refused to live his last day anything but to the fullest. But how could he even call it the fullest? 15 seconds. He remembered the faces of the people who he killed. He had been mad. Irrational. Given others the same fate bestowed on him, but why? 10 seconds. His red-stained hands found the pistol that lay on the chipped table beside him. He raised it, but this time, there was no innocent child before him. 5 seconds. Everyone was angry. So loud. The police were breaking through the door. Why couldn't they let him have peace in his final seconds? 3 seconds. He looked at the gun that caused others so much pain. 1 second. He closed his eyes just as the police ran up the stairs. They could never reach him in time. He waited for his senses to dull. A sharp pain, maybe, then nothing. But it all continued, all too real. The police surrounded him, and for the first time in twenty-four hours he was scared. His watch read zero across the screen. There were guns pointed at him from all angles. They were cautious, as though he were going to kill them all in one shot. Vomit rushed up his throat, and he choked it back down. In the officers' faces he saw those of his coworkers, neighbors. All dead for petty reasons. He felt sick, nauseous at the realization at what he'd done. He raised the pistol to his mouth. The clock struck twelve midnight, and the pistol fell to the floor. EDIT: read the prompt wrong, fixed story.
First attempt at this. Not sure if its the way it goes down.	[WP] You and your family are hiding below the floor boards of a group of cannibals. It's been four days, you're nearly out of supplies, all that remains are 30 bags of potato chips.	We were at an impasse. The cannibals knew we were down there. We had weapons, but so did they. The trapdoor to the cellar was locked from our side. The floor was reinforced with steel beams. It would take them days to get through, and we would probably be able to take a few of them out as well. But that meant no food for us, either. It had been four days, we were nearly out of supplies, all that remained were 30 bags of potato chips. We had already eaten the pretzels, and those pretzels were making us thirsty. Without water, those chips wouldn't do us much good. Except as a bargaining chip. Lol. Get it, 'bargaining chip'? The cannibals had not had anything but human flesh for weeks. I was banking on the fact that they would crave some other form of food, and who can resist a crunchy, greasy potato chip? "Dan!" I called up to the cannibal in charge. "I have an offer for you!" I heard some shuffling as Dan walked over and knelt down above us. "What could you possibly offer us?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled by the ceiling/floor. "You are our prisoners, and soon enough, we're going to eat you!" "What about some nice, crunchy potato chips?" I opened the first bag with a loud crackle. I placed the first chip in my mouth and chomped it as loud as I could. From the silence above me I could tell there was a reaction. He was thinking about it. I held the bag out to my family, and we all started crunching loudly. "Where did you get those!?!" Dan sneered from above. "Well, we were all set for our family reunion when your group fell upon our little town. But don't worry about that! The question is, would you like some? We have 30 - well, 29 now - bags of these chips, and I'm willing to barter some of them for safe passage for me and my family." He thought about it. "What flavor?" I told him that we had 14 Plain, 7 B-B-Q, and 8 Sour Cream & Onion bags left. "I don't like Sour Cream and Onion chips," he said. "So don't even bother with those." "Okay fine. There are 11 of us down here. You let us go, and I'll give you 11 bags of chips." He thought about it, then said, "That's not gonna work. I want 2 bags per person, not just one." "Okay," I relented. "So that's all the BBQ, all the plain, and just 1 SC&O then." "I said I don't like sour cream chips, they don't count! You only get 10 people. We get a person also. Your choice who." There wasn't even any discussion; we already knew who we would choose. "Fine, you can have Uncle Charlie." I unlocked the trapdoor, and my family members started climbing up the ladder. We made Dan and the rest of the cannibals stand on the other side of the room as we brought up the chips. We sent Uncle Charlie over with the chips and the Cannibals quickly ate him. Then we turned to leave, but found the door was locked. I turned to Dan, "Hey what gives? We had a deal!" He looked at me with a gleam in his eye. "Sorry," he said. "I can't eat just one."	We had managed to hide in the basement just before they managed to get inside. Thinking it was empty, they decided to make the house their home. Meanwhile the five of us were hiding down here in silence. My wife Lauren had always insisted on keeping emergency food in the basement, and her preparedness had saved our lives. Lots of granola bars and other small but nutritious food, as well as enough water bottles to last a year. "Water never goes bad!" she had pointed out. But the day had finally come when we were out of her supplies. We still had water, but we had no food left. I began desperately looking through the basement as quietly as I could. I had searched every box but one. I took a deep breath and opened it. My stomach dropped. This was the worst possible thing I could have found. It may as well have been a box of fireworks. I stared down in dismay at the box full of five-year-old bags of SunChips.
First attempt at this. Not sure if its the way it goes down.	[WP] You and your family are hiding below the floor boards of a group of cannibals. It's been four days, you're nearly out of supplies, all that remains are 30 bags of potato chips.	It's weird, but cannibals don't seem to eat their own kind. Why is that? Some kind of cannibal code? Or does cannibal meat taste tainted? Who would know, who cares. All we know is that they haven't eaten for days. We've been down here underneath the floorboards now for two weeks, and we're just about to finish our supplies. We had food enough to last us for two months, but being big boys, we just ate and ate. I guess being part of the state football team gave us big appetites. But we're strong now. We're all carbo loaded, and bored out of our skulls. Salt and vinegar chips. Who the fuck eats that shit? No way we're eating that crap. We're going to have to find other sources of food. Those cannibals aren't human, they're animals. We're ready to bust out now. It's okay to eat animals, right?	When he woke under the floorboards in the dank and must of the constant darkness he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Days and nights bled together and stretched like the gray rays of sun or moon falling aslant through floorboards. He slowly crawled around the boy and felt for food in the blind way they had lived for days but found none. In the dream from which he had awakened he was also crawling in a cave where he led the child behind him. Desperate for escape but knowing he was only lying to the child like pilgrims in an unholy land where God had died. There was a sound like a hissing that was quiet and constant. Rustling in the silence like a reminder of civility and the promise of comfort. Until they reached a great steel room where lay a silvered lake. From the high ceiling came a sliver of light that bounced off its iridescent surface which ebbed and flowed like water but the skin crinkled like something else. The sound it made echoed in the room and soon drowned the promise with a terrible sound. With the first gray light he squatted in the corner and peered into the shadows. He reached out with his hand and felt a resistance. It was a box. A box full of life and death. He spread out a small cloth they used for a table on the ground. He pulled out his knife and set it next to the box and took his pistol from his belt and laid it on the cloth. He watched the boy and then looked at the ceiling. Forgive me, son, he whispered into the dark. He reached into the box. His hands were shaking.
First attempt at this. Not sure if its the way it goes down.	[WP] You and your family are hiding below the floor boards of a group of cannibals. It's been four days, you're nearly out of supplies, all that remains are 30 bags of potato chips.	CRUNCH crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch... ... ... rustle rustle CRUNCH crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch... ... ... ... rustle rustle- OH MY GOD, STEVE, CAN YOU JUST NOT?	When he woke under the floorboards in the dank and must of the constant darkness he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Days and nights bled together and stretched like the gray rays of sun or moon falling aslant through floorboards. He slowly crawled around the boy and felt for food in the blind way they had lived for days but found none. In the dream from which he had awakened he was also crawling in a cave where he led the child behind him. Desperate for escape but knowing he was only lying to the child like pilgrims in an unholy land where God had died. There was a sound like a hissing that was quiet and constant. Rustling in the silence like a reminder of civility and the promise of comfort. Until they reached a great steel room where lay a silvered lake. From the high ceiling came a sliver of light that bounced off its iridescent surface which ebbed and flowed like water but the skin crinkled like something else. The sound it made echoed in the room and soon drowned the promise with a terrible sound. With the first gray light he squatted in the corner and peered into the shadows. He reached out with his hand and felt a resistance. It was a box. A box full of life and death. He spread out a small cloth they used for a table on the ground. He pulled out his knife and set it next to the box and took his pistol from his belt and laid it on the cloth. He watched the boy and then looked at the ceiling. Forgive me, son, he whispered into the dark. He reached into the box. His hands were shaking.
First attempt at this. Not sure if its the way it goes down.	[WP] You and your family are hiding below the floor boards of a group of cannibals. It's been four days, you're nearly out of supplies, all that remains are 30 bags of potato chips.	I bowed my head as the sounds of feasting came from above once again. They seemed to come more and more often now, as real food became harder and harder to find. I doubt anyone left up there is sane anymore. It was either hunt or be hunted. Those who refused to hunt... I don't want to think about it. Here I was, the last beacon of civilization in a world gone wrong. Sitting alone, reminiscing days past, nibbling on what remained of an already meager food supply. However, I felt a measure of pride in the hunger. I alone had not yet resorted to the repulsive cannibalism practiced by others. I glanced in the pantry. One can left. Campbell's Chicken Soup. Yum. Aside from a stack of potato chips left in the corner from my high school days, this was my remaining meal. I tried to refrain from eating, but the pain in my stomach was keeping me from sleeping. I sat and put my head in my hands. There was no hope. I was doomed. That's when I heard it. The voice. It was majestic, yet humble. Proud, yet soft. My child, the earth has grown wicked once more. The time has come for a second flood. As the last symbol of purity in this world, you must preserve yourself and the innocent creatures. They were true. The stories I had heard as a child, but brushed off. It was time then, as the second Noah to reclaim the.... wait a second. "Lord, how am I possibly going the build this without any materia-" My eyes fell on the stack of potato chip bags in the corner. Oh, [fuck](http://si.wsj.net/public/resources/images/BN-ET380_skboat_G_20140929021858.jpg).	When he woke under the floorboards in the dank and must of the constant darkness he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Days and nights bled together and stretched like the gray rays of sun or moon falling aslant through floorboards. He slowly crawled around the boy and felt for food in the blind way they had lived for days but found none. In the dream from which he had awakened he was also crawling in a cave where he led the child behind him. Desperate for escape but knowing he was only lying to the child like pilgrims in an unholy land where God had died. There was a sound like a hissing that was quiet and constant. Rustling in the silence like a reminder of civility and the promise of comfort. Until they reached a great steel room where lay a silvered lake. From the high ceiling came a sliver of light that bounced off its iridescent surface which ebbed and flowed like water but the skin crinkled like something else. The sound it made echoed in the room and soon drowned the promise with a terrible sound. With the first gray light he squatted in the corner and peered into the shadows. He reached out with his hand and felt a resistance. It was a box. A box full of life and death. He spread out a small cloth they used for a table on the ground. He pulled out his knife and set it next to the box and took his pistol from his belt and laid it on the cloth. He watched the boy and then looked at the ceiling. Forgive me, son, he whispered into the dark. He reached into the box. His hands were shaking.
First attempt at this. Not sure if its the way it goes down.	[WP] You and your family are hiding below the floor boards of a group of cannibals. It's been four days, you're nearly out of supplies, all that remains are 30 bags of potato chips.	I smiled. Just about 4 days ago I wouldn't have because the hunger was driving me nuts. This very evening we finished our last MRE in the saferoom. No one is coming, that much I can tell. Since the bombs fell, supplies have been scarce. Supply drops from Aid Organisations come and go. Some people starved to death, and yet others found a more ingenious solution. The one source of meat that was still rather plentiful. So when Morgan a few doors down started screaming in the night, we realized that we would be next. So we hid. I don't think they knew we were in here, which I guess was why they decided to set up camp in our house. So you might ask me, why am I smiling? Potato chips and hiding? Do you have a death wish? Of course not. But you see, my mother was always against guns. She would scream and yell and never let any in the house. So when my grandfather passed on and left me his prized Lee Einfield I had to hide it somewhere. Down the basement it went. But it was too obvious. The box needed extra room for ammo so it stuck out like a sore thumb. I loved chips, so I knew my mother would think nothing of it were I to dump a whole bunch in the basement for storage. Over time I forgot about it, and I told my mother I sold it so she never bothered me about it again. I throw a glance at my mother, and start carefully removing the packets of chips to reveal the box. She looks confused, until I open the box and start loading the rifle. I pass her the chips and tell her to start eating as I aim the rifle at the trapdoor.	When he woke under the floorboards in the dank and must of the constant darkness he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Days and nights bled together and stretched like the gray rays of sun or moon falling aslant through floorboards. He slowly crawled around the boy and felt for food in the blind way they had lived for days but found none. In the dream from which he had awakened he was also crawling in a cave where he led the child behind him. Desperate for escape but knowing he was only lying to the child like pilgrims in an unholy land where God had died. There was a sound like a hissing that was quiet and constant. Rustling in the silence like a reminder of civility and the promise of comfort. Until they reached a great steel room where lay a silvered lake. From the high ceiling came a sliver of light that bounced off its iridescent surface which ebbed and flowed like water but the skin crinkled like something else. The sound it made echoed in the room and soon drowned the promise with a terrible sound. With the first gray light he squatted in the corner and peered into the shadows. He reached out with his hand and felt a resistance. It was a box. A box full of life and death. He spread out a small cloth they used for a table on the ground. He pulled out his knife and set it next to the box and took his pistol from his belt and laid it on the cloth. He watched the boy and then looked at the ceiling. Forgive me, son, he whispered into the dark. He reached into the box. His hands were shaking.
First attempt at this. Not sure if its the way it goes down.	[WP] You and your family are hiding below the floor boards of a group of cannibals. It's been four days, you're nearly out of supplies, all that remains are 30 bags of potato chips.	CRUNCH crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch... ... ... rustle rustle CRUNCH crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch... ... ... ... rustle rustle- OH MY GOD, STEVE, CAN YOU JUST NOT?	It's weird, but cannibals don't seem to eat their own kind. Why is that? Some kind of cannibal code? Or does cannibal meat taste tainted? Who would know, who cares. All we know is that they haven't eaten for days. We've been down here underneath the floorboards now for two weeks, and we're just about to finish our supplies. We had food enough to last us for two months, but being big boys, we just ate and ate. I guess being part of the state football team gave us big appetites. But we're strong now. We're all carbo loaded, and bored out of our skulls. Salt and vinegar chips. Who the fuck eats that shit? No way we're eating that crap. We're going to have to find other sources of food. Those cannibals aren't human, they're animals. We're ready to bust out now. It's okay to eat animals, right?
I hope I did this right (first timer)	[WP] humanity has been under the delusion that we require sleep everyday. You discover that human bodies are trying to evolve to the next level of consciousness, but sleeping every night resets the process. You try to explain this is why you are not sleeping, but no one believes you until...	"So who are you going to the dance with?" Kyle asked. "I dunno. I doubt I'll even go." "What?" Kyle looked surprised. "Everyone is going, man. It's going to make you seem like a loser if you don't go. Plus you know that Emily digs you. You should totally ask her to go." "When did you get so concerned with my social life?" Kyle laughed, "Dude, you know I'm taking Beth. I barely know her, so I was really hoping you were going so I wouldn't have to deal with any awkward silence, you know?" "Yeah. Well, I'll think about it. You know I just don't really enjoy huge social things like that." "Well, all right. Let me know what you decide! See you after school?" Kyle had already started walking off. "Not tonight. Got a bunch of work to do!" "Cool. Well hit me up! You've got my number!" He disappeared into the crowd of students in the hallway, but I could clearly hear his distinct laugh over the sounds of everything else. He always did this weird, high pitched screech whenever he thought something was funny or when he ran into someone he hadn't seen in awhile. It always startled me. It's part of what made him Kyle, though. It was my last class for the day. Thank God. I really didn't think I was even going to make it through the first two classes, but my friend Will showed up with coffee this morning. I normally hate coffee, but today I chugged the whole damn cup before I even realized that it was still scalding hot. It burnt the hell out of my tongue, but I was so tired that it really didn't even bother me most of the day, save for lunchtime, where I was very unforgivably reminded when I tried to take a bite of a jalapeño burger. That definitely woke me up for a bit. I heard the school bell ring. Everyone started shuffling out of their desks. "Oh shit. Class is over." I thought to myself. "Didn't I just sit down?" I looked around at everyone. Everyone was walking out of the class, either groaning about homework or talking about the dance. I looked at the clock. It read 12:45, which is the normal time I get out of my last class, but I could have sworn I had just sat down. There was no way I had been in my desk for more than 4 or 5 minutes. I started to think that maybe I had dozed off, but before I could even assure myself of that, I looked down to my desk, where I had taken a full class's worth of notes. I didn't exactly figure out what happened, but I didn't really want to sit in my desk all day trying to figure it out, so I quickly packed my stuff and headed out the door and started walking to the parking lot. I got in my car trying to remember anything I could from the class. I even pulled out my notes to see if they would help jog my memory. Nothing looked familiar though. I slammed my binder shut and threw it to the side. I knew I just needed sleep. I hadn't slept in 3 or 4 days. No reason why, really. The first night I stayed up was to catch up on a project that was due the next day. The second night was because there was a midnight marathon of my favorite show, and I really wanted to catch up on it. The night after that, I don't really even remember. I think I just played video games or something. Last night I kept trying to sleep but I wasn't tired until I saw the sun come up. So I guess it has been four days. I definitely need to sleep when I get home. I grabbed my key out of my pocket to put it in the ignition. My key sticks sometimes, so occasionally you have to fight it to go into the keyhole. It took me a second, but I finally cranked it up. I lean back in my seat and look out the windshield. "What the fuck" I jumped back in my seat, startled. I could feel the color drain from my face. I was already at my house. "What the fuck" I say again. I looked around. I was in my normal parking spot. Everything seemed fine. I opened the door and walked around my car to see if everything was okay. I didn't exactly know what I was looking for, but I felt like I needed to check. I guess I wanted to make sure I didn't wreck into anything or run any kids over or something. I spent about ten minutes looking around without finding anything before I went inside. I went straight to my room and tried to sleep. I could already tell I was going to waste a lot of my time laying on my bed with my eyes closed. I wasn't even tired anymore. I think I was laying there for probably 30 minutes before I decided to get up and do something else. I checked online to see if I could find anything about losing periods of time and not being able to sleep, it was exactly what I thought. I had a very rare form of SuperCancerDoubleAids. But not really. I don't know what I expected to find online, but you can never type in symptoms of anything without it telling you have some form of terminal something. I turned on the tv and sat there for a couple of hours before I got bored and called Kyle. "Wanna come hang?" "Yeah man, I'll walk over now." Kyle lived right across the street from me. He always had, so we ended up at each other's houses more often than not. When he came into my room, he looked at me with this kind of half-smirk. "Uh, have you been smoking, bud?" He started to laugh. "No. Why?" He got closer and looked at me. "You looked stoned as fuck, Matt!" "No, Kyle. I'm not stoned. I just haven't been sleeping very well." "Maybe you should try and sleep. You really don't look too great." Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. Great. That same word just kept echoing in my head. I wasn't in my body. I felt like I was outside my body in some sort of weird outline. I felt myself focusing on all of my senses individually, but simultaneously. There's no way I could explain it that could be comprehended, but it was like I was experiencing everything at the same time. It felt right. "MATT!" I looked over at Kyle. He was standing at the door. "Dude, I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow." "Oh you're leaving already?" "Already? I've been here since 2 o'clock! I need to get some sleep. You do too. Let's play some more tomorrow!" I looked down and saw a video game controller in my hands. The clock on the wall said it was midnight. "Yeah, definitely." I spent all night trying to figure out what happened. And how to make it happen again. I tried listening to some different types of music to help me concentrate. Before I knew it, it was 7 in the morning. It took me a minute to realize that I had done it again. It was different this time. It felt almost the same, but this time, I could feel every second pass. I could feel every millisecond pass by. I could hear hundreds of ticks in between each pass of the secondhand on the clock. It was like the opposite of dreaming. Instead of my imagination running wild, it was like my imagination disappeared, and I focused on everything that was real. My mom came into my room. I heard her scream, but I couldn't move. All I could do was focus on the time passing by. I heard her screaming on the phone. I think she called the police. I could hear her crying. I died. Well, I didn't die. Everyone thought I died. They blamed it on sleep deprivation or a heart attack or something. I don't know. But I wasn't dead. I'm still alive, I think. Or maybe I really am dead. Either way, I'm 6 feet underground, left alone to my thoughts forever, and I still can't sleep.	Sleepless Haiku: Never Sleep Again Brains are coming out my ears Meth, Not Even Once edit:spellings
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing. I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me. but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now. I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers. When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest. Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire. "Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls. I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am." "Are they here yet?" "I don't know." "Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room. "Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you." "You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power." "Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I can't do this anymore. I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard. My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I think it works out that either; a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s. or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware. Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next. And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. die. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. go. Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the minutest elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe? So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head. And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking Maybe I'll get a burger and piss. Then it hits you. Like a fucking poison. The idea. And this is when I know what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all. See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit?	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath. It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain. And still I run. This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair? --- Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear. We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles. Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes... You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless. Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes. Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class. At least, that's what everyone says. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all think the same thing. The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class. My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient. You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy. Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty. When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate. When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us. When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks. And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait. It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin. My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine. Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride. But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms. Oh, how I wish I could give it back. --- They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear. In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world. I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods. But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks. It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me. Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else. It was pity. I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root. A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall. My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree. I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. My hands. The hands I've had all my life. I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love. I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together. Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows. I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless. I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree. I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it. For as soon as I do, a loud squish fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds. I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs. I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born precisely at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13. But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon. I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid. It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. COME ON! Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either. The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...? I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man. I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got. But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I remember my 18th birthday well. I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be. This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name. Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram. The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony. Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident. Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps. Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him. I remember hoping my power would be as great as his. As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself. There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power. We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin. I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset. Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests. My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates. Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button." As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart. The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out. I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior. As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me. WTF? What happened? Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage. I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident. I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities. Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh. All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight. It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them. As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised. How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered. When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it. If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day. The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons. Edit: grammar, formatting	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening. Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on. There are standards to be kept, of course. Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life. There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power. I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things. This was, of course, deliberate. My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18. Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time. This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing. We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power). The clock was ticking for me. Only one minute left to go, I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die. Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame. Oh. No. Please no. I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine. My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away. My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden. Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy "WOOF" Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Dear Diary, Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer. I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is. In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of. I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom. Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her. I guess we'll find out in a few hours. --- The next day. --- Dear Diary, It's Summer, again. I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal. We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got. I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened. Well, it turns out that my dad was right. When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle. That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did. When I let go, my hands felt weird. Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out. My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable. Glittery, you could say. The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me. All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving. Diary, my superpower sucks.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I am fucking terrified. I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review. It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl. I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time. “Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red. “Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness “Oh, whoops!” With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso. “You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.” “Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?” “Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..” My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me. “the cake.” Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods. “Saved it!” He said. “Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!” “Sarah, language!” “Sorry dad.” My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad. “You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table. “So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said. “No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet." “Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.” “Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said. “Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.” Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now. Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through. "Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic. My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them. Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition. It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him. I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth. It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet. 3 seconds. 2 seconds. 1 second. Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me. I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha. Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves. All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger? ... Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game. Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation. ... ... She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love. Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me. ... ... ... I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind. Nothing happened. I willed my eyes to move. They remained fixed on Sam's. What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror. No, not dreaming. Not sleeping. This is too real. ... ... ... ... Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath. Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze. The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand. Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream. Everything just seems...slowed down... ... ... ... ... ... So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but... I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter. I was never that great of a speller, either.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	3, 2, 1 Pain Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it. I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face. I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out. When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it. "The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated." The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience. "And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?" His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought. "Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated." The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	15, 14, 13. "Fuck I'm not going to make it". 12 "How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google". --- "Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead". "Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower". "Very good Jenny, ok cla...." Ring ring "Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class". As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers. "Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked. "No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded. "All right man, well good luck" Chad said. "Thanks" I responded. When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail. The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless. --- 3,2. Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction. 1, phew just in time. FUCKING GOOGLE! Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"Teleportation" Nobody had ever gotten this one before. I was ecstatic for 5 minutes, until I actually tried it. With a POP, I vanished and reappeared in the seat across from me, naked and hairless, missing my clothes, the top layer of my skin, the contents of my GI tract, my fillings... lord knows what else was in that pile across from me.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing. For 9 days. This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming. Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come. "Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it." "Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm. 1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot. 1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity. 1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon? 1:17pm It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT. I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me. Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it. As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping. "What happened!" She exclaimed. When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face. "Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?"	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Most of the kids now throw a big party, invite all their friends, or go out somewhere special to celebrate their 18th. My brother, when he turned 18, was at the beach with this high school friends. Luckily for him and everyone around him, his fire powers was quickly doused by the approaching tide. He's an idiot though, I can't count on my fingers how many times he's accidentally set fire to something in the house. Luckily my parents are able to keep a tight lid on things or we'd all be homeless. His room is fireproof (now) and reinforced with steel, created by dad and pounded into place by mom so that his midnight blazes doesn't spread to the rest of the house. I'm alone in my room. I have little friends and am never really invited to parties. The only one here today is my dog and-ah well, looks like he's gone again, didn't even see him this time. Ugh, fine, forget them, I'll get my powers and then they'll all be sorry! "Maybe a little telekinesis, or shape-shifting, or ooh, super strength! Then I'll show that guy Mike, always bullying me, I'll tear him in half!" I chuckle to myself, it won't be long now. "....12:45....12:46....wait a minute, didn't mom say I was born around noon? What gives? Where are my powers??" I'm panicking now. In rare cases, some people didn't get their powers, but they were usually too sick, their bodies unable to handle their new-found abilities. That can't be happening to me right? "....2:32....its been more than an hour now! What the hell's going on?? God damn it, what happened? Why don't I have any powers?? I don't understand this!" I hear the door slam in the living room, they must be home! "Mom, mom! When was I born, didn't you say I was born around noon? Well its 2 fucking hours past noon, where are my powers? Are you sure didn't confuse me with one of your abortion babies?! That's just like you!" My mom stands there, looking bored at me, dad goes into the kitchen to fatten himself up like the pig that he is. She doesn't even care. I point an accusing finger at my mother, ready to give her another piece of my mind when I see it. My nails, they've...grown? Didn't I just cut them? I could have sworn they were-oh shit, did I do that, is THIS my power?? I scream and run to my room to cry. From the kitchen, my dad yells "Shut up, Meg"	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Barry was nervous. Tonight he'd go to bed a 17 year old and wake up an 18 year old with his power. What category would he get? There's the three categories: Body, Mind, and Mobility. Body can be anything from strength, to scales. Mind could be super intelligence, to knowledge of a specific category. Mobility could be flight, to the ability to vibrate. There's no telling what I'll get from my parents. They're one of the few times a major fell in love with a minor power. My father has the ability to fill any container or vessel with the non-alcoholic beverage of his choice. My mother has super intelligence, and never forgets anything. Anything. I felt my eyes getting heavy and the world going dark. I dreamed of all the things I could do, all the people I could save. All the girls I could pull. When I woke up I lay in bed, trying to figure out if I felt any different. Nothing so far. I carefully started testing all my limbs, making sure I didn't break anything. Nothing. I checked my skin. Still looks normal. I looked around my room. My eyes fell on the glass of water next to my bed, and I knew. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, falling from my bed to the floor. My father found me huddled and crying. "What? Barry, what is it?" I pointed to the glass of water, "That ain't juice." My father was confused. He grabbed the glass, and poured it into the trash, them materialized some orange juice in the glass, holding it out to me. I sobbed to him, "That... That is juice." My power? Knowledge of Juice.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	The clock ticked over and chimed. I was 18... My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..." The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited. "I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?" "Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did. "This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up. That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now. Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be. Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night. Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that. That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock... I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal. The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to. I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline.	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	The examiner cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Say that again, son." "Prostate cancer. June 23rd, 2032." The examiner laid down his pen and clipboard. Tears began to well in his eyes and his hands begin a slight shake. "Thank you. I... I think we're done here." I'm escorted to the door of the small testing room where the same nurse who led me in is outside waiting for me. She is still breathing heavily. Trying to compose herself and not look me in the eyes. She doesn't have to. "I'm sorry," I say. "Is there anything I can do? I have a daughter." "I don't know if it works that way. I'm sorry." She leads me to the discharge desk where I'm handed back a stack of paper work. The receptionist seems excited. She seems to genuinely enjoy her job and is giddy to look at my results. Her excited smile quickly fades to a frown. Her eyes lock with the nurses teary eyes, and then to mine. Her head trembles from side to side, as if begging me to stay silent. Stabbing. Pretty soon, as far as I can foresee. I learn quickly to keep my mouth shut and spare her. As the nurse exits back into the hallway, I can hear her speaking to one of the orderlies I saw in the earlier. "Hey, Frank. Do you think you can drive me home today?" It doesn't work that way, I think to myself. Frank too. Today. As the cab pulls up to the front of the facility, a sigh of relief escapes my lips. The cabbie. He has a while. It isn't so bad. "Where to?" He asks. Now it's my turn to start shaking. "Home," I say. "I'd like to see my mom and dad."	Hi, my name is Rick and I live in a world where every person receives their superpower at the ripe age of eighteen. When I turned eighteen, I got a superpower, this is my story. I woke up, wow, the time was almost the time I turn eighteen. Wow. It was only an hour before I turned eighteen. Wow. Such amaze. Eighteen, I thought, finally I was to turn that age in just an hour. Thirty minutes past, thirty more and I would soon have my superpower since I was going to turn eighteen in thirty minutes. Holy shit. Wow. I am almost eighteen, I thought, why was I so concerned about turning eighteen? Since I was going to get my superpowers! Duh! So I waited and waited until there was one minute left until my superpower came to me at eighteen years old. Wow, I thought, I was going to turn eighteen and get superpowers! Wow!! It was thirty seconds before getting my superpower, at the obvious age of eighteen, of which is the age I will turn in the next thirty seconds. Wow. Only five seconds left until I turn into a being of eighteen years old and am granted a superpower. I am so excited! Only in five seconds was I to become superpowerful at the age of not seventeen, not 17, not XVII, not 十七，not nineteen either, I was to turn EIGHTEEN!!! Ohhhh my god! It was only half a second before i became the age of majority!!! Eighteen! There is half a second left! Holy shit bro!!! I am going to receive superpowers yo! Awesome!!! I high fived myself. I have no friends. JEEEeEeEeZZZZuSSS CHRISSzTttTtT, LOooKkK ATt THe TIMe!!! Its 10 nanoseconds before i turn one age less that nineteen (eighteen). I was amazed how accurate my watch was to be able to count nanoseconds. By this point it was taking too long and I lost patience so I went to sleep. I was awoken later by the sound of police sirens outside of my house. It was the police, with their police cars, the sounds of the sirens were caused by their cars, they were very loud!! What could my power be? To be able to sound like a police siren? To be able to make the police appear? I had to find out myself. I opened the door and there he was, the government guy. Wow. He had a very concerned look on his face, which was like :(. He spoke in a deep, african voice. "Son you have the power to hijack any aircraft and make jet fuel melt steel beams" The man signalled the police to come over and arrest me, take me to jail and all that. It wasn't going to end like this though!!! But it did. Its now my second life sentence here in jail. I miss my family. They have disowned me and everything.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing. I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me. but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now. I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers. When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest. Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire. "Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls. I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am." "Are they here yet?" "I don't know." "Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room. "Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you." "You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power." "Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I can't do this anymore. I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard. My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I think it works out that either; a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s. or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware. Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next. And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. die. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. go. Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the minutest elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe? So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head. And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking Maybe I'll get a burger and piss. Then it hits you. Like a fucking poison. The idea. And this is when I know what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all. See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit?	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath. It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain. And still I run. This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair? --- Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear. We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles. Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes... You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless. Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes. Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class. At least, that's what everyone says. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all think the same thing. The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class. My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient. You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy. Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty. When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate. When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us. When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks. And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait. It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin. My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine. Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride. But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms. Oh, how I wish I could give it back. --- They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear. In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world. I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods. But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks. It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me. Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else. It was pity. I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root. A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall. My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree. I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. My hands. The hands I've had all my life. I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love. I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together. Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows. I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless. I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree. I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it. For as soon as I do, a loud squish fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds. I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs. I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born precisely at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13. But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon. I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid. It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. COME ON! Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either. The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...? I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man. I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got. But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I remember my 18th birthday well. I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be. This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name. Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram. The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony. Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident. Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps. Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him. I remember hoping my power would be as great as his. As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself. There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power. We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin. I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset. Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests. My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates. Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button." As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart. The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out. I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior. As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me. WTF? What happened? Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage. I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident. I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities. Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh. All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight. It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them. As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised. How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered. When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it. If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day. The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons. Edit: grammar, formatting	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening. Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on. There are standards to be kept, of course. Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life. There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power. I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things. This was, of course, deliberate. My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18. Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time. This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing. We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power). The clock was ticking for me. Only one minute left to go, I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die. Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame. Oh. No. Please no. I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine. My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away. My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden. Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy "WOOF" Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Dear Diary, Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer. I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is. In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of. I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom. Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her. I guess we'll find out in a few hours. --- The next day. --- Dear Diary, It's Summer, again. I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal. We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got. I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened. Well, it turns out that my dad was right. When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle. That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did. When I let go, my hands felt weird. Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out. My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable. Glittery, you could say. The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me. All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving. Diary, my superpower sucks.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I am fucking terrified. I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review. It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl. I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time. “Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red. “Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness “Oh, whoops!” With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso. “You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.” “Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?” “Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..” My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me. “the cake.” Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods. “Saved it!” He said. “Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!” “Sarah, language!” “Sorry dad.” My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad. “You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table. “So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said. “No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet." “Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.” “Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said. “Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.” Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now. Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through. "Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic. My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them. Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition. It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him. I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth. It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet. 3 seconds. 2 seconds. 1 second. Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me. I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha. Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves. All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger? ... Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game. Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation. ... ... She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love. Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me. ... ... ... I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind. Nothing happened. I willed my eyes to move. They remained fixed on Sam's. What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror. No, not dreaming. Not sleeping. This is too real. ... ... ... ... Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath. Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze. The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand. Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream. Everything just seems...slowed down... ... ... ... ... ... So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but... I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter. I was never that great of a speller, either.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	3, 2, 1 Pain Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it. I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face. I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out. When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it. "The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated." The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience. "And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?" His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought. "Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated." The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	15, 14, 13. "Fuck I'm not going to make it". 12 "How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google". --- "Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead". "Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower". "Very good Jenny, ok cla...." Ring ring "Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class". As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers. "Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked. "No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded. "All right man, well good luck" Chad said. "Thanks" I responded. When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail. The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless. --- 3,2. Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction. 1, phew just in time. FUCKING GOOGLE! Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing. For 9 days. This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming. Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come. "Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it." "Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm. 1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot. 1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity. 1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon? 1:17pm It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT. I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me. Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it. As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping. "What happened!" She exclaimed. When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face. "Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?"	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Most of the kids now throw a big party, invite all their friends, or go out somewhere special to celebrate their 18th. My brother, when he turned 18, was at the beach with this high school friends. Luckily for him and everyone around him, his fire powers was quickly doused by the approaching tide. He's an idiot though, I can't count on my fingers how many times he's accidentally set fire to something in the house. Luckily my parents are able to keep a tight lid on things or we'd all be homeless. His room is fireproof (now) and reinforced with steel, created by dad and pounded into place by mom so that his midnight blazes doesn't spread to the rest of the house. I'm alone in my room. I have little friends and am never really invited to parties. The only one here today is my dog and-ah well, looks like he's gone again, didn't even see him this time. Ugh, fine, forget them, I'll get my powers and then they'll all be sorry! "Maybe a little telekinesis, or shape-shifting, or ooh, super strength! Then I'll show that guy Mike, always bullying me, I'll tear him in half!" I chuckle to myself, it won't be long now. "....12:45....12:46....wait a minute, didn't mom say I was born around noon? What gives? Where are my powers??" I'm panicking now. In rare cases, some people didn't get their powers, but they were usually too sick, their bodies unable to handle their new-found abilities. That can't be happening to me right? "....2:32....its been more than an hour now! What the hell's going on?? God damn it, what happened? Why don't I have any powers?? I don't understand this!" I hear the door slam in the living room, they must be home! "Mom, mom! When was I born, didn't you say I was born around noon? Well its 2 fucking hours past noon, where are my powers? Are you sure didn't confuse me with one of your abortion babies?! That's just like you!" My mom stands there, looking bored at me, dad goes into the kitchen to fatten himself up like the pig that he is. She doesn't even care. I point an accusing finger at my mother, ready to give her another piece of my mind when I see it. My nails, they've...grown? Didn't I just cut them? I could have sworn they were-oh shit, did I do that, is THIS my power?? I scream and run to my room to cry. From the kitchen, my dad yells "Shut up, Meg"	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Barry was nervous. Tonight he'd go to bed a 17 year old and wake up an 18 year old with his power. What category would he get? There's the three categories: Body, Mind, and Mobility. Body can be anything from strength, to scales. Mind could be super intelligence, to knowledge of a specific category. Mobility could be flight, to the ability to vibrate. There's no telling what I'll get from my parents. They're one of the few times a major fell in love with a minor power. My father has the ability to fill any container or vessel with the non-alcoholic beverage of his choice. My mother has super intelligence, and never forgets anything. Anything. I felt my eyes getting heavy and the world going dark. I dreamed of all the things I could do, all the people I could save. All the girls I could pull. When I woke up I lay in bed, trying to figure out if I felt any different. Nothing so far. I carefully started testing all my limbs, making sure I didn't break anything. Nothing. I checked my skin. Still looks normal. I looked around my room. My eyes fell on the glass of water next to my bed, and I knew. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, falling from my bed to the floor. My father found me huddled and crying. "What? Barry, what is it?" I pointed to the glass of water, "That ain't juice." My father was confused. He grabbed the glass, and poured it into the trash, them materialized some orange juice in the glass, holding it out to me. I sobbed to him, "That... That is juice." My power? Knowledge of Juice.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	The clock ticked over and chimed. I was 18... My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..." The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited. "I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?" "Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did. "This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up. That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now. Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be. Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night. Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that. That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock... I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal. The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to. I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline.	once there was a man who liked to eat pickles and stuff and then one time when he was walking down the street he saw a man named Matt Pettenato who liked to also eat pickles and stuff EDIT: Spelling is hard
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing. I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me. but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now. I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers. When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest. Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire. "Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls. I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am." "Are they here yet?" "I don't know." "Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room. "Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you." "You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power." "Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I can't do this anymore. I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard. My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I think it works out that either; a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s. or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware. Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next. And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. die. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. go. Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the minutest elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe? So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head. And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking Maybe I'll get a burger and piss. Then it hits you. Like a fucking poison. The idea. And this is when I know what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all. See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit?	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath. It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain. And still I run. This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair? --- Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear. We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles. Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes... You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless. Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes. Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class. At least, that's what everyone says. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all think the same thing. The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class. My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient. You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy. Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty. When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate. When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us. When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks. And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait. It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin. My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine. Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride. But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms. Oh, how I wish I could give it back. --- They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear. In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world. I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods. But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks. It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me. Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else. It was pity. I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root. A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall. My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree. I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. My hands. The hands I've had all my life. I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love. I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together. Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows. I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless. I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree. I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it. For as soon as I do, a loud squish fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds. I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs. I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born precisely at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13. But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon. I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid. It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. COME ON! Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either. The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...? I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man. I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got. But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight. It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them. As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised. How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered. When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it. If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day. The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons. Edit: grammar, formatting	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening. Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on. There are standards to be kept, of course. Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life. There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power. I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things. This was, of course, deliberate. My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18. Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time. This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing. We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power). The clock was ticking for me. Only one minute left to go, I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die. Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame. Oh. No. Please no. I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine. My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away. My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden. Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy "WOOF" Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Dear Diary, Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer. I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is. In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of. I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom. Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her. I guess we'll find out in a few hours. --- The next day. --- Dear Diary, It's Summer, again. I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal. We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got. I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened. Well, it turns out that my dad was right. When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle. That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did. When I let go, my hands felt weird. Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out. My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable. Glittery, you could say. The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me. All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving. Diary, my superpower sucks.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I am fucking terrified. I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review. It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl. I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time. “Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red. “Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness “Oh, whoops!” With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso. “You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.” “Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?” “Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..” My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me. “the cake.” Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods. “Saved it!” He said. “Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!” “Sarah, language!” “Sorry dad.” My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad. “You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table. “So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said. “No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet." “Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.” “Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said. “Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.” Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now. Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through. "Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic. My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them. Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition. It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him. I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth. It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet. 3 seconds. 2 seconds. 1 second. Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me. I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha. Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves. All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger? ... Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game. Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation. ... ... She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love. Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me. ... ... ... I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind. Nothing happened. I willed my eyes to move. They remained fixed on Sam's. What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror. No, not dreaming. Not sleeping. This is too real. ... ... ... ... Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath. Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze. The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand. Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream. Everything just seems...slowed down... ... ... ... ... ... So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but... I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter. I was never that great of a speller, either.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	3, 2, 1 Pain Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it. I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face. I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out. When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it. "The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated." The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience. "And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?" His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought. "Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated." The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing. For 9 days. This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming. Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come. "Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it." "Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm. 1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot. 1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity. 1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon? 1:17pm It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT. I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me. Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it. As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping. "What happened!" She exclaimed. When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face. "Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?"	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	The clock ticked over and chimed. I was 18... My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..." The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited. "I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?" "Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did. "This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up. That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now. Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be. Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night. Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that. That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock... I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal. The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to. I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline.	I sat there, staring at the clock, waiting for the clock the hit 18:56- the exact time of my birth. On my lap sat a phone, my phone to be exact, open to a text conversation with my crush, asking her about the process of getting her powers (Pyrokinesis), which she assured me was completely painless. She did, of course, have to wait a few weeks for her eyebrows to grow back in, but that was beside the point. I looked at the clock, 18:55. Then, after what seemed an eternity (really only 5 seconds), the clock struck 18:56. I looked around the room and at myself. I certainly didn't feel any different, I didn't look different, and after a few hundred attempts, I was forced to admit that I couldn't control a thing or anyone. As a last ditch attempt, I shot Suzanne a quick photo with the caption 'Any different'? She quickly replied back, 'Not that I can see. What'd you get?' 'IDK' I responded, crawling into bed, crying softly into my pillows. The next day, I was woken by a loud rapping noise on my window, and the bkices of a thousand men. I slowly trudged out of my bed, into the front room, where I saw that it wasn't in fact thousands, but thousands of thousands, each wearing the most fabulous clothes I had ever seen. As I opened the front door, they all turned, simultaneously, and man at the front looked at me and said, "H-Hello, Mr. Waterson, right? Umm, well, not to say I work with the NSA, well actually I do, but well, umm I just happened to see your picture, and well, I just want to tell you that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that, umm, well, will you go out with me?"
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I can't do this anymore. I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard. My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I think it works out that either; a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s. or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware. Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next. And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. die. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. go. Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the minutest elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe? So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head. And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking Maybe I'll get a burger and piss. Then it hits you. Like a fucking poison. The idea. And this is when I know what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all. See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit?	My Dad burst into my room like an excited puppy. "So Kidda, it's your big day! Happy Birthday Son." He ruffled my hair with his familiar hand. "Seven hours to get ready for your big moment. You better hurry, Gran's gonna be here in a few minutes." He lowered his voice and leant in towards me conspiratorially. "Give us a clue. We all have an instinct. What's it gonna be?" I knew what it would be. The same power as seven hours ago. The same as seven hours before that. Relentlessly. Forever.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	My Dad burst into my room like an excited puppy. "So Kidda, it's your big day! Happy Birthday Son." He ruffled my hair with his familiar hand. "Seven hours to get ready for your big moment. You better hurry, Gran's gonna be here in a few minutes." He lowered his voice and leant in towards me conspiratorially. "Give us a clue. We all have an instinct. What's it gonna be?" I knew what it would be. The same power as seven hours ago. The same as seven hours before that. Relentlessly. Forever.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	My Dad burst into my room like an excited puppy. "So Kidda, it's your big day! Happy Birthday Son." He ruffled my hair with his familiar hand. "Seven hours to get ready for your big moment. You better hurry, Gran's gonna be here in a few minutes." He lowered his voice and leant in towards me conspiratorially. "Give us a clue. We all have an instinct. What's it gonna be?" I knew what it would be. The same power as seven hours ago. The same as seven hours before that. Relentlessly. Forever.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening. Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on. There are standards to be kept, of course. Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life. There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power. I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things. This was, of course, deliberate. My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18. Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time. This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing. We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power). The clock was ticking for me. Only one minute left to go, I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die. Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame. Oh. No. Please no. I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine. My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away. My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden. Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy "WOOF" Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...	My Dad burst into my room like an excited puppy. "So Kidda, it's your big day! Happy Birthday Son." He ruffled my hair with his familiar hand. "Seven hours to get ready for your big moment. You better hurry, Gran's gonna be here in a few minutes." He lowered his voice and leant in towards me conspiratorially. "Give us a clue. We all have an instinct. What's it gonna be?" I knew what it would be. The same power as seven hours ago. The same as seven hours before that. Relentlessly. Forever.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I am fucking terrified. I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review. It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl. I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time. “Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red. “Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness “Oh, whoops!” With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso. “You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.” “Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?” “Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..” My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me. “the cake.” Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods. “Saved it!” He said. “Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!” “Sarah, language!” “Sorry dad.” My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad. “You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table. “So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said. “No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet." “Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.” “Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said. “Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.” Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now. Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it.	My Dad burst into my room like an excited puppy. "So Kidda, it's your big day! Happy Birthday Son." He ruffled my hair with his familiar hand. "Seven hours to get ready for your big moment. You better hurry, Gran's gonna be here in a few minutes." He lowered his voice and leant in towards me conspiratorially. "Give us a clue. We all have an instinct. What's it gonna be?" I knew what it would be. The same power as seven hours ago. The same as seven hours before that. Relentlessly. Forever.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I can't do this anymore. I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard. My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I think it works out that either; a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s. or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware. Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next. And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. die. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. go. Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the minutest elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe? So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head. And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking Maybe I'll get a burger and piss. Then it hits you. Like a fucking poison. The idea. And this is when I know what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all. See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit?	Time flies, they say. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I've been waiting my entire life for the boon. In my shoes, you would have done the same: the only son of a widowed drunkard too busy keeping us afloat to pay any attention to me. Our house, little more than a hovel in the middle of suburbia, County Nowhere. I could tell you the name of the nearest city, but what for? Suburbs are universal - they emanate the same sense of alienation and hopelessness no matter where. I won’t bore you with the details of my miserable life as a teenager - I don’t have any delusion of uniqueness, and you’re not my shrink after all. But I trust you can understand why I needed to get out of there. With a bit of luck, the boon would give me the means to do so. Anything would go: superhuman force or telekinesis to land a job somewhere, flying to get out of that stinking place in a heartbeat, invisibility to get rich stealing from those posh bastards living in their fancy pool-side villas, on the other side of town. The closer I got to my eighteenth birthday, the more obsessed I became. What will I do, where will I go? Anything, absolutely anything would be better than that life of constant waiting, I thought. Such a fool. They also say that time slows down when you’re wishing for something to happen. God knows that’s true. Month after month, week after week, I felt like time was dilating infinitely. The last day, a torture. The great moment was almost there! What would become of me? The last hour, endless. Another little while, and I would get to know my destiny. The last minutes, eternal. I will know myself for the first time; I will be reborn. The last seconds, unbearable: 3… 2… 1… Suddenly I am paralyzed. I try to move my head, my arms, but nothing happens. Even my pupils, I realize in terror, are stuck. I feel a terrible anxiety wash over me, and yet my heart is as still as a pond - in fact I cannot feel it beating at all. And then I see it. An autumn leaf, barely visible at the corner of my field of vision, outside my window, frozen in mid-air, perfectly still. That’s when I understand. My “boon” is the gift of timelessness. Time nearly came to a halt, both for the world outside and for my own body: but my mind is racing at full speed. I know that the flow of time has not stopped completely, because in the aeons that I feel have passed since that damned first instant the leaf got closer to the bottom of the window by an infinitesimal amount. Sometimes I doubt that, but… if I'm wrong, if I am imagining it… no, it cannot be, I cannot accept that. I take solace in the fact that, eventually, things will move. And yet, after a lifetime waiting for this moment, I'm left with infinite lifetimes to savour its dry, wry after-taste.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	Time flies, they say. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I've been waiting my entire life for the boon. In my shoes, you would have done the same: the only son of a widowed drunkard too busy keeping us afloat to pay any attention to me. Our house, little more than a hovel in the middle of suburbia, County Nowhere. I could tell you the name of the nearest city, but what for? Suburbs are universal - they emanate the same sense of alienation and hopelessness no matter where. I won’t bore you with the details of my miserable life as a teenager - I don’t have any delusion of uniqueness, and you’re not my shrink after all. But I trust you can understand why I needed to get out of there. With a bit of luck, the boon would give me the means to do so. Anything would go: superhuman force or telekinesis to land a job somewhere, flying to get out of that stinking place in a heartbeat, invisibility to get rich stealing from those posh bastards living in their fancy pool-side villas, on the other side of town. The closer I got to my eighteenth birthday, the more obsessed I became. What will I do, where will I go? Anything, absolutely anything would be better than that life of constant waiting, I thought. Such a fool. They also say that time slows down when you’re wishing for something to happen. God knows that’s true. Month after month, week after week, I felt like time was dilating infinitely. The last day, a torture. The great moment was almost there! What would become of me? The last hour, endless. Another little while, and I would get to know my destiny. The last minutes, eternal. I will know myself for the first time; I will be reborn. The last seconds, unbearable: 3… 2… 1… Suddenly I am paralyzed. I try to move my head, my arms, but nothing happens. Even my pupils, I realize in terror, are stuck. I feel a terrible anxiety wash over me, and yet my heart is as still as a pond - in fact I cannot feel it beating at all. And then I see it. An autumn leaf, barely visible at the corner of my field of vision, outside my window, frozen in mid-air, perfectly still. That’s when I understand. My “boon” is the gift of timelessness. Time nearly came to a halt, both for the world outside and for my own body: but my mind is racing at full speed. I know that the flow of time has not stopped completely, because in the aeons that I feel have passed since that damned first instant the leaf got closer to the bottom of the window by an infinitesimal amount. Sometimes I doubt that, but… if I'm wrong, if I am imagining it… no, it cannot be, I cannot accept that. I take solace in the fact that, eventually, things will move. And yet, after a lifetime waiting for this moment, I'm left with infinite lifetimes to savour its dry, wry after-taste.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	Time flies, they say. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I've been waiting my entire life for the boon. In my shoes, you would have done the same: the only son of a widowed drunkard too busy keeping us afloat to pay any attention to me. Our house, little more than a hovel in the middle of suburbia, County Nowhere. I could tell you the name of the nearest city, but what for? Suburbs are universal - they emanate the same sense of alienation and hopelessness no matter where. I won’t bore you with the details of my miserable life as a teenager - I don’t have any delusion of uniqueness, and you’re not my shrink after all. But I trust you can understand why I needed to get out of there. With a bit of luck, the boon would give me the means to do so. Anything would go: superhuman force or telekinesis to land a job somewhere, flying to get out of that stinking place in a heartbeat, invisibility to get rich stealing from those posh bastards living in their fancy pool-side villas, on the other side of town. The closer I got to my eighteenth birthday, the more obsessed I became. What will I do, where will I go? Anything, absolutely anything would be better than that life of constant waiting, I thought. Such a fool. They also say that time slows down when you’re wishing for something to happen. God knows that’s true. Month after month, week after week, I felt like time was dilating infinitely. The last day, a torture. The great moment was almost there! What would become of me? The last hour, endless. Another little while, and I would get to know my destiny. The last minutes, eternal. I will know myself for the first time; I will be reborn. The last seconds, unbearable: 3… 2… 1… Suddenly I am paralyzed. I try to move my head, my arms, but nothing happens. Even my pupils, I realize in terror, are stuck. I feel a terrible anxiety wash over me, and yet my heart is as still as a pond - in fact I cannot feel it beating at all. And then I see it. An autumn leaf, barely visible at the corner of my field of vision, outside my window, frozen in mid-air, perfectly still. That’s when I understand. My “boon” is the gift of timelessness. Time nearly came to a halt, both for the world outside and for my own body: but my mind is racing at full speed. I know that the flow of time has not stopped completely, because in the aeons that I feel have passed since that damned first instant the leaf got closer to the bottom of the window by an infinitesimal amount. Sometimes I doubt that, but… if I'm wrong, if I am imagining it… no, it cannot be, I cannot accept that. I take solace in the fact that, eventually, things will move. And yet, after a lifetime waiting for this moment, I'm left with infinite lifetimes to savour its dry, wry after-taste.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening. Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on. There are standards to be kept, of course. Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life. There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power. I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things. This was, of course, deliberate. My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18. Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time. This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing. We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power). The clock was ticking for me. Only one minute left to go, I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die. Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame. Oh. No. Please no. I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine. My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away. My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden. Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy "WOOF" Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...	Time flies, they say. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I've been waiting my entire life for the boon. In my shoes, you would have done the same: the only son of a widowed drunkard too busy keeping us afloat to pay any attention to me. Our house, little more than a hovel in the middle of suburbia, County Nowhere. I could tell you the name of the nearest city, but what for? Suburbs are universal - they emanate the same sense of alienation and hopelessness no matter where. I won’t bore you with the details of my miserable life as a teenager - I don’t have any delusion of uniqueness, and you’re not my shrink after all. But I trust you can understand why I needed to get out of there. With a bit of luck, the boon would give me the means to do so. Anything would go: superhuman force or telekinesis to land a job somewhere, flying to get out of that stinking place in a heartbeat, invisibility to get rich stealing from those posh bastards living in their fancy pool-side villas, on the other side of town. The closer I got to my eighteenth birthday, the more obsessed I became. What will I do, where will I go? Anything, absolutely anything would be better than that life of constant waiting, I thought. Such a fool. They also say that time slows down when you’re wishing for something to happen. God knows that’s true. Month after month, week after week, I felt like time was dilating infinitely. The last day, a torture. The great moment was almost there! What would become of me? The last hour, endless. Another little while, and I would get to know my destiny. The last minutes, eternal. I will know myself for the first time; I will be reborn. The last seconds, unbearable: 3… 2… 1… Suddenly I am paralyzed. I try to move my head, my arms, but nothing happens. Even my pupils, I realize in terror, are stuck. I feel a terrible anxiety wash over me, and yet my heart is as still as a pond - in fact I cannot feel it beating at all. And then I see it. An autumn leaf, barely visible at the corner of my field of vision, outside my window, frozen in mid-air, perfectly still. That’s when I understand. My “boon” is the gift of timelessness. Time nearly came to a halt, both for the world outside and for my own body: but my mind is racing at full speed. I know that the flow of time has not stopped completely, because in the aeons that I feel have passed since that damned first instant the leaf got closer to the bottom of the window by an infinitesimal amount. Sometimes I doubt that, but… if I'm wrong, if I am imagining it… no, it cannot be, I cannot accept that. I take solace in the fact that, eventually, things will move. And yet, after a lifetime waiting for this moment, I'm left with infinite lifetimes to savour its dry, wry after-taste.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I can't do this anymore. I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard. My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I think it works out that either; a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s. or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware. Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next. And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. die. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. go. Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the minutest elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe? So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head. And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking Maybe I'll get a burger and piss. Then it hits you. Like a fucking poison. The idea. And this is when I know what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all. See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit?	Most people would be waiting to the last minute to check out their new power as soon as it manifested. I wanted to, but that would be at 3am and I had work in the morning. So reluctantly I slunk off to bed. Come morning, I tried to see what I had. My breasts were still small, I couldn't fly, and no matter how I flicked my wrists nothing came out. Was I a genetic defect? I resigned myself to the hope that I was adopted and my true power would manifest when my real birthday was passed. I showered, dressed, and hopped in my rust-colored DeLorean to go to work. Where I was the only one 'of age' without some neat power. Carrie could cook the pizzas with her hands to get our orders out faster. Luke could increase the size of his hands to roll more dough. Jim could read customers minds to make suggestions and keep accurate orders. I...could drive delivery. After teasing me mercilessly I finally got an order across town. I put my phone on mute so they wouldn't keep bugging me and then I set out. The backroads were a convoluted mess since schools were out, so I opted for the freeway. Traffic was tight but there were no slowdowns, so I had some fun speeding around big rigs and old ladies. Then I hit 88 miles per hour...and I saw some serious shit. Literally, there was a septic truck stopped in my lane. I swerved around him but rear-ended a beetle that had stopped beside him. I barely had time to register what was going on as I flew out of my windshield. Always buckle up, kids. I hit the beetle and flipped over it, landed on its hood, then rolled to a stop some ways in front of it. As I'm laying and bleeding the beetle goes from 0 to 60 immediately and runs right over me. I hear the tires screeching and people yelling, but I can't understand them. I'm in shock. Why the hell would I need a power that stops time when I'm speeding? FML...
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	Most people would be waiting to the last minute to check out their new power as soon as it manifested. I wanted to, but that would be at 3am and I had work in the morning. So reluctantly I slunk off to bed. Come morning, I tried to see what I had. My breasts were still small, I couldn't fly, and no matter how I flicked my wrists nothing came out. Was I a genetic defect? I resigned myself to the hope that I was adopted and my true power would manifest when my real birthday was passed. I showered, dressed, and hopped in my rust-colored DeLorean to go to work. Where I was the only one 'of age' without some neat power. Carrie could cook the pizzas with her hands to get our orders out faster. Luke could increase the size of his hands to roll more dough. Jim could read customers minds to make suggestions and keep accurate orders. I...could drive delivery. After teasing me mercilessly I finally got an order across town. I put my phone on mute so they wouldn't keep bugging me and then I set out. The backroads were a convoluted mess since schools were out, so I opted for the freeway. Traffic was tight but there were no slowdowns, so I had some fun speeding around big rigs and old ladies. Then I hit 88 miles per hour...and I saw some serious shit. Literally, there was a septic truck stopped in my lane. I swerved around him but rear-ended a beetle that had stopped beside him. I barely had time to register what was going on as I flew out of my windshield. Always buckle up, kids. I hit the beetle and flipped over it, landed on its hood, then rolled to a stop some ways in front of it. As I'm laying and bleeding the beetle goes from 0 to 60 immediately and runs right over me. I hear the tires screeching and people yelling, but I can't understand them. I'm in shock. Why the hell would I need a power that stops time when I'm speeding? FML...
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	Most people would be waiting to the last minute to check out their new power as soon as it manifested. I wanted to, but that would be at 3am and I had work in the morning. So reluctantly I slunk off to bed. Come morning, I tried to see what I had. My breasts were still small, I couldn't fly, and no matter how I flicked my wrists nothing came out. Was I a genetic defect? I resigned myself to the hope that I was adopted and my true power would manifest when my real birthday was passed. I showered, dressed, and hopped in my rust-colored DeLorean to go to work. Where I was the only one 'of age' without some neat power. Carrie could cook the pizzas with her hands to get our orders out faster. Luke could increase the size of his hands to roll more dough. Jim could read customers minds to make suggestions and keep accurate orders. I...could drive delivery. After teasing me mercilessly I finally got an order across town. I put my phone on mute so they wouldn't keep bugging me and then I set out. The backroads were a convoluted mess since schools were out, so I opted for the freeway. Traffic was tight but there were no slowdowns, so I had some fun speeding around big rigs and old ladies. Then I hit 88 miles per hour...and I saw some serious shit. Literally, there was a septic truck stopped in my lane. I swerved around him but rear-ended a beetle that had stopped beside him. I barely had time to register what was going on as I flew out of my windshield. Always buckle up, kids. I hit the beetle and flipped over it, landed on its hood, then rolled to a stop some ways in front of it. As I'm laying and bleeding the beetle goes from 0 to 60 immediately and runs right over me. I hear the tires screeching and people yelling, but I can't understand them. I'm in shock. Why the hell would I need a power that stops time when I'm speeding? FML...
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born precisely at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13. But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon. I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid. It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. COME ON! Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either. The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...? I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man. I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got. But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight. It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them. As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised. How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered. When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it. If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day. The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons. Edit: grammar, formatting	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening. Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on. There are standards to be kept, of course. Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life. There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power. I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things. This was, of course, deliberate. My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18. Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time. This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing. We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power). The clock was ticking for me. Only one minute left to go, I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die. Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame. Oh. No. Please no. I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine. My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away. My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden. Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy "WOOF" Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	Dear Diary, Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer. I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is. In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of. I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom. Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her. I guess we'll find out in a few hours. --- The next day. --- Dear Diary, It's Summer, again. I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal. We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got. I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened. Well, it turns out that my dad was right. When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle. That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did. When I let go, my hands felt weird. Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out. My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable. Glittery, you could say. The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me. All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving. Diary, my superpower sucks.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I am fucking terrified. I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review. It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl. I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time. “Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red. “Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness “Oh, whoops!” With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso. “You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.” “Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?” “Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..” My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me. “the cake.” Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods. “Saved it!” He said. “Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!” “Sarah, language!” “Sorry dad.” My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad. “You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table. “So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said. “No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet." “Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.” “Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said. “Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.” Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now. Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	"Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through. "Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic. My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them. Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition. It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him. I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth. It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet. 3 seconds. 2 seconds. 1 second. Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me. I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha. Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves. All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger? ... Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game. Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation. ... ... She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love. Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me. ... ... ... I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind. Nothing happened. I willed my eyes to move. They remained fixed on Sam's. What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror. No, not dreaming. Not sleeping. This is too real. ... ... ... ... Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath. Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze. The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand. Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream. Everything just seems...slowed down... ... ... ... ... ... So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but... I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter. I was never that great of a speller, either.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	3, 2, 1 Pain Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it. I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face. I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out. When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it. "The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated." The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience. "And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?" His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought. "Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated." The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing. For 9 days. This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming. Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come. "Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it." "Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm. 1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot. 1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity. 1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon? 1:17pm It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT. I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me. Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it. As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping. "What happened!" She exclaimed. When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face. "Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?"	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	The clock ticked over and chimed. I was 18... My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..." The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited. "I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?" "Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did. "This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up. That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now. Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be. Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night. Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that. That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock... I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal. The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to. I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline.	"So what's your power?" Kevin, my older brother, asked for the twentieth time after I've cooled down a bit. I had been pacing about since my superpower had awakened and, like everybody else on the planet, thoroughly understood the nature of my power. This was coupled with minutes of cursing and yelling and basically panicking much to my brother's confusion. "Come on, it can't be that bad. Remember what they say that there are no useless powers?" Yes, I do remember that. The blanket statement that supposed to cheer people with less-than-stellar powers up and encouraged them to explore their power for uses they might not have thought of. It's non-applicable here. "I know... But this is differ-" "No but. You know this. We all know this. Superpowers are always beneficial to their users at the basic level. This is a scientifically proven fact and we all learned it back in elementary." Kevin's interruption was dripped with somewhat justified annoyance. My actions seemed irrational after all. "There is no power that can hinder or directly harm its user's life. And even if it could then it wouldn't without the user's conscious decision. All those spooky stories about dying from powers is made up. Fire users won't burn themselves. Mind readers' power won't activate on its own. The power to inflict death upon yourself comes from a novel and doesn't exist in real life. Etc. Etc. There's literally nothing to be sad or be upset or whatever you are feeling right now. "So please, just tell me what your power is so we can discuss it's potential and see how useful it is." I ducked my head throughout his rant and cooked up a way to explain my situation. The power is not a hindrance per se. The notion of using it, however, is a big hindrance. This power is useless and the quickest way to make him know is to demonstrate, but demonstrating it is kind of hard too. Cupping my head in my hands, I wondered why must I have this problematic power in the first place as I answered the question he's been asking for the past 20 minutes. "A random power." Silence fell upon us for about a minute. I didn't dare look up to see what face Kevin was making but I bet it's of utter confusion. "What do you mean?" I groaned out loud but elaborated anyway, "Random. When I activate my power, I get a random power. It could be flying or super strength or transformation or magic or anything. There is no way to predict what will come out and I won't even know what HAS come out. I just know that I have randomly selected one power from a pool of who-knows-how-many-there-is. And that’s it, random power! "Are you satisfied now?" Kevin said nothing and just stared at me. His feature was stoic and kind of hard to read. I was thinking about saying something when he decided to stand up, walk up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," was what he said before he silently excused himself out of the room. I swore his hysterical laughter was heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it! 10 Seconds I can't wait, it's finally here. 9 Seconds I hope I get an awesome superpower! 8 Seconds This is the best time of my life 7 Seconds There's nothing that's going to top this moment 6 Seconds If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out! 5 Seconds Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind. 4 Seconds I wonder if I'll be able to save lives. 3 Seconds Not much longer now! 2 Seconds Here it comes. 1 Second This is it!	I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing. I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me. but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust.
	[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with.	I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript. MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday. AR: Thank you. MD: Today is your 98th birthday. AR: Yup. MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power. AR: 80 years. MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday? AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped. MD: What about your parents? AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much. MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries. AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way. MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in. AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse. MD: Was he a friend? AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people. MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it. AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard. MD: Tell us where you were living at the time. AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river. MD: But it never hurts you. AR: Just wet shoes. MD: What happened after that day in the gym? AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains... MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage. AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off. MD: You endured death threats. AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out. MD: How did you escape? AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again. MD: Tell us about your home now. AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too. MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand. AR: I hope so. MD: Tell us about that. AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some. MD: That's been your full time job. AR: Yup. Standin' there. MD: Any regrets? AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get. MD: Thank you for your time. Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.*	I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing. I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me. but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust.

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