NORMAL MAN ROBERT BARNS- IS A SUPERHERO?

Everyday man Robert Barns has mysteriously gained superpowers. Scientists are baffled at how Robert manages to lift cars, outrun cars, and fly. Famous Scientist Patrick Simmons says, “It really shouldn’t be possible. He flies without wires, and seemingly has no power source. He can lift something that would smash you or me, and does it without strain. He is faster than our muscles can possibly move, and he accelerates at unimaginable speeds. I cannot comprehend it.”

JESSICA STEVENS BECOMES A SUPERGIRL

A normal 11 year old from Salt Lake City, Utah recounts her story to reporter Clark Sully.

“I went to school one day, the day my science fair was due. It was huge, half of my points for the year. I had spent a month working on it, and finally it was completed and ready to be turned in, along with the laminated review of literature. You must understand, I hate getting in trouble or getting bad grades. And today, when I was going up the stairs, the poster board in my hands, someone tripped me. The board got crushed, and I caused a chain reaction. Everyone on the stairs fell, including a teacher holding a cup of coffee. It spilled all over both my backpack and my board, and I freaked out. Suddenly, my body started shaking, and I realized that I was screaming. I looked at the people around me, and saw that everyone was frozen. Not in ice, in time. They couldn’t move, and I couldn’t see what had startled them so much. I could still move though, and I rushed to pick up my things. I stopped screaming, and suddenly they could all move again. I had stopped time.”

SUPERMOM

“I was just a mother of 4, living in the suburbs with my husband and children. Then one day, some hooligan came speeding down the road my daughter was playing on. I couldn’t do anything but scream as the car drew close to my daughter’s tiny frame. I knew in my heart that she would die and I felt something inside me snap. Then the car was gone. I don’t know what happened to it, it just disappeared, with the person that was inside it sitting on the ground. I still have no idea how I did it.

No one knows why. But for some reason, 2 years ago, people started popping up all around the world with superpowers. The only correlation scientists could find was that is usually happened when people were feeling very emotional. Very sad, stressed, angry, happy, excited, all kind of things. Of course, people have raised the superhero supervillain topic often, but even more so is the question of why. Why now? Why do people get that power? Why doesn’t everyone have a power? Either that, or how are these powers bending reality? How are they not ad-hearing to the laws of physics anymore?

But I didn’t really care about that. I just have to care about not getting caught.

I ran down the winding streets of Mesa, overturning trashcans, rolling dumpsters, and losing my pursuer in the ally-ways of a broken city. Everything in this city was brutal and morally wrong, from the infestation of petty criminals to police brutality to superhero brutality. Granted, I did break the law pretty often, but we got no help. How can you abuse a kid for shoplifting when it’s his only source of revenue? When his little sister will starve if he doesn’t? When he was never even given a chance, because being born black is the same as being born a target. Racism everywhere, people refuse to feed me or my sister, no shelter will take us in. The same people who voted for President Bernard, the United States’ first black president. They say, ‘I’m not racist at all, I even voted for Bernard.’ And then they would beat me with a stick if I tried to approach their bleeding child to put on a Band-Aid. And the police were only worse, because they had weapons instead of boards with nails in them. And all I had to avoid them with was my hands and feet. In this town, I was lucky I hadn’t been enslaved when I was younger. And I was only 14 now.

I arrived at the ‘hide-out’ and climbed up the make shift ladder of dumpsters, trash cans, and foam boxes to climb through a window. I ducked in, and saw the normal appearance of the huge slide going down to the floor. It was inflatable plastic that I had grabbed once. It was wrapped up in a box and I hadn’t known what it was. My sister got attached, and now it was permanent. The slide down into our humble abode.

I found my sister sitting at a desk reading a math textbook I had found for her. 8 years old, and a genius. She would never put her book down, and even ate with at least 3 piled up next to her. Due to how much of a luxury books were, she didn’t get much new material. She could probably recite to me To Kill A Mockingbird from heart.

Meanwhile, I was the complete opposite. I was always out doing things, using my hands to accomplish something. Sure, it was mostly theft, but it was exactly what kept me grounded. To know that this book I’m risking my life for is something my sister can read. Or that this journal I’m taking now is what my sister will use to learn algebra. I’m helping my little sister.

Now, I presented to my sister our next meal. A pie I had swiped from a windowsill and lasagna from the same house. They should keep more windows closed, it was so easy to sneak in and snatch their meal off of the table. And I’m fast enough to have an easy escape.

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“We get dessert tonight? I’m surprised brother, you usually wouldn’t bother.” My sister commented dryly, although I knew she was kidding. I got dessert of some kind most nights. “Well, bookworm, I guess I was feeling generous enough to get this for you tonight. Although, I have a feeling that the way you eat, more of the pie will end up on your new sweatshirt than in your mouth.” She smiled sweetly. “And I’m sure that the way you eat, we won’t be able to finish dinner until the next ice age comes around.” I looked at her, and decided to go for it. “Well with your blubber, I’m sure you’d fare better than the rest of us.” Then, upon seeing the look on her face, I remembered that she was 8. I hurried to right my wrong, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. You’re not fat or pudgy at all, I’m so sorry. You’re growing, your body will of course gain some fat in order to prepare for that. I’m so-“ She was grinning. And when she was grinning, it meant that I had been tricked.

“Darn you, why do you have to be so good at acting! It gets so annoying!” And she just smiled wider.

I went over to the ‘kitchen corner’ where we had a rickety homemade table and a chair. I let my sister sit, while I got out our dining utensils. Plastic sporks and a napkin. Stolen from a school playground, where kids would casually toss them to the ground in plastic bags. We got to hope they weren’t stepped on or used to scoop up ‘feces’ in the words of my sister. I still think she should just call it poop.

We didn’t have plates, so we just ate it out of the stolen glass pan. We paid no attention to the taste, although it was what we considered good… which meant it was better than half-finished bananas and other trash. We ate quickly, then devoured the pie. It was heard to learn to ration food when there was such a steady supply of food for us. Even if that I had to risk my neck for every bit of food, it wasn’t in short supply.

“So, brother, I was wondering if you could muster up the courage to steal me a new book. The last book I re-read fell apart, and I’m in need of a new one.” She sounded so hopeful, I wasn’t sure if I could turn her down.

I gave her an uncertain look, “Who knows, I remember you once saying, ‘Courage is like the wind, uncertain and changing. Like the tide rising and falling. We can be filled to the brim with courage, or have it sapped out of us in an instant.’” I chuckled at her. “I love it when you’re feeling poetic and you say stuff like that. It’s good for my mood when I remember it.”

She blushed a furious shade of pink, and threw her spork at me. “It’s soooo comforting to know that I have such a ‘good’ brother looking after me. At least I’m not illiterate!” She said.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You can’t call me illiterate just because I’m not that fast at reading? I can even do basic math in my head. What else will I need?!” She smirked at getting a reaction out of me, and now I was the one blushing.

We were left in a silence that would have been awkward for anyone else, but we were close enough that is wasn’t at all.

“Well, since I’m illiterate, how about you read to me before I fall asleep? Thieving is an energy-draining task, so I can sleep like a rock even though it’s only 6.” She smiled. “Okay, what level book do you want. Pre-K, Elementary, Middle, High, or College?” I immediately selected, “Elementary. How about something like… Maybird? That was one of your favorites, right?”

“Yeah, I liked it. Do you remember back when I was a tiny baby, and dad was still alive? Remember how he read to me? This is the only book that I actually remember him reading to me.” She pulled out Maybird, which was falling apart, but considering how long we had it in these conditions, it was amazing it was still possible to read.

For an hour, my sister read me Maybird, just like how dad had read to her, and how his mom had read to him. A family tradition, although our order was a bit messed up.

The boy fell asleep on the floor next to his sister who had the only blanket, which she curled up in tightly. It was a good end to a good day, the last of its kind for Jacob Moor.

Death Of A Thief

Black boy and known thief Jacob Moor was shot and killed by police officer at a bookstore. Was trying to steal a book, and under suspicion of carrying a gun. The very cop who shot young Jacob is here now being interviewed by new reporter Leom Miller.

“So explain to me what exactly happened in the bookstore?”-Leom

“Well, I was, in truth, sitting in my car outside of the bookstore when the boy came darting out. I recognized him as a known criminal and thief, and chased after him. He held a book in one hand and the other was sliding out of his pocket. I saw metal and assumed it was a gun, so I pulled out my own, and shot him.”-the cop

“Do you know what was really in his pocket?”- Leom

“Yes actually, I later discovered that what I really saw was just a zipper that shined in the sunlight, and his black hand.”- the cop.

“Well, I guess we all make mistakes. He was committing a crime though, so you’re not to blame.”-Leom.

“I think that this concludes this interview, then.”- the cop.