Part 1: Still can't think of a name

The words "Out of this world" are thrown around far to carelessly among people. That movie with that actor you like, your sister's weird kid, or that sour kraut recipe, these things are not from outside. In fact, quite the contrary, these are things we've created to make our real life what it is. They are the very embodiment of what real life is... for most of us, anyways.

For the first fourteen years of my life, I was an ordinary person. I had friends, went to school, grew up some, looked at girls, pretended I knew everything... y'know, normal things. As is the course with me however, there was nothing subtle about my change, when I realized that I was... different.


It was a slow Autumn afternoon four years ago, and I was nearing the age of fifteen. Circumstance found my at home by myself, and being a fourteen year old male, I was using this opportunity to do what any ordinary boy my age would do. I walked down the short flight of stairs to the office, closing the door behind me on reflex, and putting on some light music to cover up any unintentional noise made. Turning on the computer and leaning back, a smug grin on my face, I noticed a window behind me was open. At the time I was confident that I was safe, but my paranoia would not allow me to continue with the window unchecked, and just as I thought this, the window forcibly closed shut with a a loud click. I turned around, thinking it was very queer that a gust of wind could close a sliding window in such a manner. Disregarding the window, I returned to my previous engagement, opening my browser of choice, and as I did, the volume of the music rose gradually with my own... excitement.

After a moment I noticed what was happening, and as I reached out to adjust the volume to a more suitable level, but much to my surprise, the sound decreased with only the raising of my hand. Puzzled, and for the sake of curiosity, I held my dominant hand several inches above my mouse, and willed it into my palm, clenching my eyes shut and focusing with all the determination a sexually distracted fourteen-year-old can muster. After a moment hesitation, I opened my eyes, and as I had hoped the tiny plastic object was hovering a finger's width from my hand.



I quickly learned that my capabilities were far from limitless, and that as a... greater than human (I don't like the term "superhero". Too many expectations associated with it.) I wasn't spectacular by any comic book standards. At first, I couldn't move anything outside of my arm's reach, and anything that weighed more than a kilogram or so, I really had to struggle to move at all. Attempting to interact with anything outside of those parameters felt very strenuous in my head, something akin to a particularly bad brain freeze. The other limitation I discovered shortly after learning about my powers, upon running outside and trying to move the largest tree in sight. Picture this- when trying to move something that's stuck, you pull with a heavy rope. However, if the object in question is heavier than you're able to lift, you simply drag yourself toward it. Multiply this factor by an excited fourteen-year-old and a sixty year old maple, and you get a severe migraine from working harder than you're able to, a twisted wrist from trying to soften my impact, and a stunned body after a collision and several foot fall.

Fast forward four days. I've had several evenings to my own to find out what my capabilities are, and I'm getting ready to brave the hazards of being a Freshman in high school after a long weekend. Fitting in never was a problem for me. Friendships and social difficulties had never really made me suffer. In retrospect, it's kind of a shame that it didn't come out more dramatically. Turning around, and having your locker close without your own effort is hardly worth all the fuss it created... thankfully, those nearby bought that it was a "magic trick" and that I wasn't going to give away my secret.




Wow. I have been having an amazingly difficult time writing this. I've got several pages in a notebook filled with ideas, characters and scenarios, but when it comes out here, it just feels like a wreck.
This was my response to the superhero idea, and... I dunno... should I continue writing or no? I'm having fun, but it just feels like a mess.