The Accidental Superheroes

Alex

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME JERK?" I scream, as I throw the kid against a locker. His head smashes against it and he groans in pain.
"Nothing, I swear, it was nothing!"
"REALLY?"
"Yes, I promise, here look, I'll give you all my lunch money! Plus my allowance!" I raise my eyebrows slightly.
"All of it?" I ask, my voice slowly getting calmer.
"Yes, all of it! You can take it out of my wallet yourself!" Well, that does sound reasonable. I could use the cash. I slowly release my arms from my hold and back off a little.
"Get your money out." I tell him.
"Gotcha, sure thing, money." He says, fumbling around in his pockets. He finally brings his wallet out and I stretch out one arm, palm up, so that he can put it in my hand. I notice him glance fearfully at my tattoo which reads:  درد کی خوبصورتی ہے . It's Urdu by the way. It means pain is beauty. I'm especially proud of it. I saved up all my cash to buy a fake ID so I could get it. My dad flipped out when he saw it, because my mother spoke Urdu, and he hates my mother. She ran off with the TV man when I was seven, and my dad never mentions her. He can't really blame her though, she is a bit of a slut. I mean I was born when she was seventeen, and my dad nearly twenty nine. Yeah okay, I come from a messed up family. Sue me.

The kid drops his wallet into my hand. It's very nice, some expensive designer brand. I open it up to reveal a ten dollar note.
"That's all?"
"My parents don't believe in giving me too much money."
"So they bought you a designer wallet?"
"No actually, my older sister got it for me. She works as a model and she gets to take free stuff."
"Hmm... you know what? I think I might keep the wallet instead."
"But... that was a gift! If I ask for another one she'll be super pissed!"
"Maybe a fist in the face will change your mind?" his eye's widen and he licks his lips nervously.
"You know what, you keep it, it doesn't really matter."
"Cool bro."
"Yeah."
I walk off down the hall. Some of the kids are looking at me funny, and I can feel my anger and rage boiling up inside me. I bit the inside of my cheek and counted to ten inside my head, like the counsellor told me to do. It didn't work.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE LOOKING AT?!" I yell at them. They all quickly duck their heads and hurry down the corridor to their classes. I grin smugly. Wimps. I almost wish that someone would stick up to me, just to make it a little bit interesting. I look down and check the watch that I got off some other kid today. Oh shit. I have counselling now, great. It's not how you think it is. I don't chose to go to counselling, my dad doesn't give a flying pig's ass if I go or not, it's the school that makes me go. Trust me on this one, you would much rather go to a twenty five minute shrink session then be stuck with in school suspension, or detention everyday, yeah saturday's too, for a month. That's what I got threatened with. Plus, the school counsellor is like twenty two, blonde, and always wears super short skirts. I think that

I trudge down the hall, trying to be as late as possible to the counsellor's office. When I reach the door I stand in front of it for a while, debating whether I should run or not. I really don't think that skipping one counselling is worth getting an in school suspension, so I put my hand up and knock.
"Come in!" I hear Mrs White say from inside. I open the door grumpily and step into the chilly office.
"Does it always have to be so cold in here?" I ask her.
"No. I do it especially for when you come in."
"What so we can warm up together, aye?" She rolls her eyes at this one.
"No, I'm hoping that maybe it will cool you down, you know, to help control your anger management?"
"Right. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"I was being sarcastic." I state bluntly.
"Take a seat on the couch."

I do what she says and plop onto the cushiony couch.
"What are we gonna do today?" I ask her. She smiles.
"We're going to be asking eachother some questions." Uh oh. Never good. I've had counsellors use this trick on me before. Basically what happens is I get to ask them some sort of question, like 'What's your favorite colour?' and then they answer. Then they ask me something, like 'What do you want to do when you grow up?' It's all fun and games until they get to questions about my family and home life. Then I either get really mad and storm out, or just ice them out. I think in that if I took a peek into their little notebooks, I'd find pretty much the same analysis, something like: Clearly comes from a troubled home, has issues with his self confidence, blah blah blah. You know the kind of shit I'm talking about.

"Look," I tell her, "let me make one thing very, very clear; I refuse to answer any questions to do with my home life and my family. Got it? You can write down whatever little analysis about me you want, but I'm not going to delve deep into that subject, ok?" She raises her eyebrows.
"I actually wasn't planning on asking you anything about your family. I only want to know about you."
"Fine." I reply shortly.
"Well, for starters, what are some of your favorite things."
"Cigarettes. Beer. Sex. Getting stoned. Punching kids faces in." I can see her eyes widen in shock.
"I'm kidding. Not about the beer and the sex, but I don't smoke or do drugs." I can see her visibly relax.
"What other things do you like? Any subjects at school?"
"I draw."
"Well thats a start. Could you show me some of your drawings?"
"No."
"Ok then, what else?"
I think for a moment. I don't really do much other than draw. Every wall in my room is covered in drawings that I've done from the age four upwards. My mother taught me how to draw when I was four. She was an artist. A really good one too. She went to the London school of the Arts and everything.
"That's it."
"You're telling me that all you do is drink, screw girls, and draw?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"What are you hiding from me?" I frown.
"Nothing." I say, a little defensively. She doesn't look like she believes me.
"I don't believe you." Ha. I'm a body language reader. I'm amazing.
"Well, believe me, because I'm telling the truth."
"Alexander."
"I'm telling the truth!"
"No. You're not. I'm a pshycologist, I'm trained to sniff stuff like this out." Crap. She really is on to me. Okay, okay I'll admit, I lied. I don't only do that stuff, but I hate admiting what the other thing I do is. It's so embarassing. If anyone knew, it would be the end of my reputation. Yeah, it's that  bad.

"I refuse to tell you."
"Alex." her voice has a ring of warning in it.
"I refuse." Now my voice has warning in it, warning that if she goes any further, I'm going to get really, really pissed off.
"Alex tell me."
"NO!" I yell at her. She looks taken aback, and I realise that I've never yelled at her, not once. But it's too late to stop now. I can feel a strange tingling beginning in the pit of my stomach, and the angrier I get, the stronger it's getting.
"I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU ANYTHING, YOU STUPID BIMBO!" I scream at her, beginning to loose it. The tingling is getting even stronger now.
"IT'S NONE OF YOUR FREAKING BUSINESS WHAT I DO IN MY SPARE TIME!" my voice is really loud now, and Mrs White is looking a little freaked.
"Alex, please, I'm sorry. Just sit down and we can work this out." The tingling is getting so strong now. In fact, it's beginning to burn.
"Shit." I say in a gasp.
"Alex?" Mrs White sounds concerned. The burning is so bad now. I think I might pass out. It's spreading to my whole body, and I begin to gasp for air.
"Help." I croak, but Mrs White is frozen to the spot.
"A-Alex?" she stutters, "Your a-arm." What? I look down at my arm, to discover that it isn't there.
"SHIT! MY ARM HAS FALLEN OFF, SOMEONE FREAKING HELP ME NOW!!" I yell. Mrs White begins to look even more terrified.
"You're disappearing." she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"What?" I look down, and realise that I can't see the rest of my body. I think that I'm going to puke. And then Mrs White screams:
"SHIT! ALEX, ALEX WHERE ARE YOU?!!"

Oh. My. Freaking. God. I'm invisible. I bring my hands up to my face. All I can see is a faint shimmery outline, nothing more. I don't know what to do, Mrs White is screaming and panicking, and I'm invisible. I realise that I only have one choice. I need to get the hell out of here. I turn and bolt for the door.

I run out of the counsellors office and into the corridor, sprinting as fast as I can go. I can see the doorway at the end of the hall, and I begin pumping my legs harder. I can still hear Mrs White in the background, and by now kids are coming out of the classrooms to check what's going on. I reach the door and give it a huge push, opening it.
"Holy Shit!" some kid behind me cries, "the door just opened by itself!" Some other kids turn to look, and gasp in surprise as well. I don't care. I just keep running, and I don't look back.

hey so i think the last two chapters I have done have been much more detailed then some of the others. I really hope that you guys like the story and all!! haha i would really appreciate feedback, so if you like it vote or comment! if u think that it needs some improving, comment and let me know! thanks for all the reads and stuff guys! I think that im on five hundred and twelve?  THATS AWESOME! keep reading! xxxxxxxxx :D