“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Robert,” I heard my mother worry out loud in the next room as I packed the last of my belongings.
“Of course it’s a good idea,” my dad assured her. “Gemma’s new school is great. Our new apartment is huge. Besides, I’ve already accepted the promotion.”
“But Chicago is such a big city. I’m worried about her. She’s never lived is such a big city before. What about the crime?” My mother worried further.
I snorted loudly, and immediately hoped that they couldn’t hear me from their room. I found out I was telekinetic when I was 13. Basically, I can move objects with my mind. After a bit of research, I found that the only other accounts of this phenomenon happening to people are found in comic books, sci-fi movies, and the dreams of the nerds that think them up.
Despite my gift, I didn’t really think myself as a superhero. I spent most of my time rescuing cats from trees, foiling pick-pockets, and giving school bullies a taste of their own medicine. There wasn’t much saving for a superhero to do in the small city of Edgewood. Even though I was leaving a few good friends and memories behind, I was ready for Chicago. Maybe I’d catch my first thief, or stop a bank robbery, or deactivate a bomb. I was ready for something interesting.
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I sat in my empty room and examined the space I had to work with, beginning to brainstorm ways to turn it into a mini sanctuary, like my last bedroom had been. My eyes focused on the boxes and bags that littered the floor. I pushed myself to my feet and peeked around the doorframe. I closed the door and clicked the lock into place. Sitting cross legged on my bed, I imagined my belongings in their new places as they ran through my mind. I heard glass clinking on wood, push-pins piercing through wall and poster board, and clothes sliding onto hangers and clinking on the metal rod inside my closet. Once the noise died down, and I began to run out of belongings and empty space, I opened one eye, nervous to see it all put together instead of merely imagining it piece by piece. I was pleasantly surprised. It had all the character of my old room, providing some familiarity in a new life. However, the changes in the scenery and architecture of the space were welcome, as if there to remind me that it was going to be different here. Strange and new, but maybe not entirely alien. It was refreshing.
I heard footsteps in the hallway and I clicked the lock back just before my mother opened the door. “Dad wants to know if you want takeout.” She looked up, and was speechless for a few seconds. This was quite the feat for my endlessly chatty mother. “Wow. You really fixed this up quickly. Do you want to do our room, too?” She joked, but was still in awe at the sight.
I grinned. “Maybe later. Takeout sounds great.”
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“Bye, mom. Bye, dad. I’m leaving.” I called as I closed the door behind me. When I heard a few large booms, I stopped and threw my head back in frustration. I could picture my mom attempting to be graceful as she ran through the house to catch up with me. I wondered what she wanted this time.
By the time she got the door open, she was winded. “I forgot to give you this.” She handed me a small gift bag.
I took it and tore the tissue paper out, eager to leave. I pulled out a small pink tube with a strange nozzle on one end. “What’s this?” I asked, holding it away from my body as if it might explode.
