Child Powers
Babies are born with super powers these days.
The first ones starting showing up in India. Just a few at first. They were confiscated and the families were disappeared. They were inspected and kept hidden in secret facilities.
More started showing up in other countries.
The myths started, then. Rumours of babies born deformed or on fire. Babies born with super strength or eyes that could kill with a look. Babies that flew out of the doctor’s arms and out the window into the skies.
All dismissed as the worst tabloid journalism. Until the celebrity twins.
Katrina Jolie-Pitt and Apple Paltrow-Clooney gave birth to twins on October 16th. One of those twins immediately became living rock just seconds after birth right in front of the doctor’s eyes. The other one become transparent. Jakarta and Apple II.
After that, super-births happened regularly. Doctors watched the rate climb up to a hundred per cent.
Every single birth that happens now is a super-birth.
The first ones that were born got a nasty shock when puberty kicked in.
Their powers disappeared and they became baseline humans.
This is the world we live in now. Every child is a god and the adults are scared. We can control them with guilt like any parent but casualties are high. When tantrums can shatter eardrums or burn down houses, the results can be deadly.
There are super children that make suicide pacts and promise to never become human. There are hero children that looks forward to the day that they can finally become human.
There are super-children police forces that keep the peace with the other super children. The children have to take care of each other.
The baseline humans live in protected camps.
Right now, it’s my fourteenth birthday. My entire body is covered with tiny mouths. I don’t see how this is a power but it’s what I ended up with. Some of the boys in the super school call me the blowjob King.
I got my first few pubic hairs this week. Already, I can sense my tiny mouths drying up. Soon, I’ll be able to visit my parents in the dome and, if they like me, I can move in.
I won’t be able to taste the surrounding miles of air anymore. It will be a blessing. I’ll miss being able to scream in two hundred different voices. But not really.
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The first ones starting showing up in India. Just a few at first. They were confiscated and the families were disappeared. They were inspected and kept hidden in secret facilities.
More started showing up in other countries.
The myths started, then. Rumours of babies born deformed or on fire. Babies born with super strength or eyes that could kill with a look. Babies that flew out of the doctor’s arms and out the window into the skies.
All dismissed as the worst tabloid journalism. Until the celebrity twins.
Katrina Jolie-Pitt and Apple Paltrow-Clooney gave birth to twins on October 16th. One of those twins immediately became living rock just seconds after birth right in front of the doctor’s eyes. The other one become transparent. Jakarta and Apple II.
After that, super-births happened regularly. Doctors watched the rate climb up to a hundred per cent.
Every single birth that happens now is a super-birth.
The first ones that were born got a nasty shock when puberty kicked in.
Their powers disappeared and they became baseline humans.
This is the world we live in now. Every child is a god and the adults are scared. We can control them with guilt like any parent but casualties are high. When tantrums can shatter eardrums or burn down houses, the results can be deadly.
There are super children that make suicide pacts and promise to never become human. There are hero children that looks forward to the day that they can finally become human.
There are super-children police forces that keep the peace with the other super children. The children have to take care of each other.
The baseline humans live in protected camps.
Right now, it’s my fourteenth birthday. My entire body is covered with tiny mouths. I don’t see how this is a power but it’s what I ended up with. Some of the boys in the super school call me the blowjob King.
I got my first few pubic hairs this week. Already, I can sense my tiny mouths drying up. Soon, I’ll be able to visit my parents in the dome and, if they like me, I can move in.
I won’t be able to taste the surrounding miles of air anymore. It will be a blessing. I’ll miss being able to scream in two hundred different voices. But not really.
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