Story Snippets

Unnamed Snippet

- -{Challenge: "Write about a person with a lame superpower."}- - 

WARNING: I didn't get the chance to write about how this kid gets his lame superpower, but if you'd like a part two, I can see what I can do. Either way, I hope the Challenge doesn't throw what I've written out of context. For this specific snippet, I've really tried to add personality to the character's narrating tone. I'd appreciate feedback!

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 Walk in, sit down, don't say a word. That was the known routine when you went to Mr. Pyer's office. The place was practically my home; a live journal of all of the times I'd been yelled at by him for being myself. So what if I kicked someone to the ground? They promised me my homework and I never got it. It's not my fault I don't understand trigonometric identities.

Mr. Pyer glared at me through his partially tinted sunglasses. He held a thin coat across his lap that looked way too fancy to be someone else's. Our principal had a-- unique sense of fashion, if you will. I guess I smirked at the thought of it, because I could hear him scooch his chair closer to me, and his straight, serious face had turned into an angry frown.

"Mr. Coleman," He spoke coldly, pulling his glasses away from his face and placing them atop his head. "Does this please you? Are you satisfied?" He asked. I just stared at him. He seemed annoyed. I mean-- of course he's annoyed. It's something that comes easily when you're around me. I'm practically famous for how annoying I appear, but it doesn't bother me.

He tapped his desk, catching my attention. I pulled myself up from my slouched position and looked him head-on. "It's the end of the day. I understand you're excited to go home and hang out with your friends-- or do whatever you kids do these days," He said the last part quietly. "But that doesn't give you a right to kick people out of your way in the halls." I felt my fists clench. 'Is that what that nerd told you?' is what I wanted to say, but I wanted to go home as much as this guy did, so I just said, "That's not what happened."

He raised one eyebrow, and before he could speak, I clarified, "I mean-- I did kick the kid, but I wouldn't have if--" I thought for a moment. If I told him I'd been asking some kid to do my homework, I'd be here for more than just kicking someone. Mr. Pyer let out a long sigh.

"Listen, kid. I don't want to spend any more time here than I need to, and I'm sure you got your plans with your friends. You'll have lunch detention tomorrow and the rest of this week. Are we clear?" I smiled. "Good with me." I nodded. I was getting a deal just because this old man wanted to go home. "Then scram," He said rather quietly, "And no more kicking people." I didn't hesitate to leave like he asked me to.

That was all I could think about on the way home; why Mr. Pyer would want to get home so desperately. It's not like he has friends like I do, and if he did, it'd be a party of fashion freaks who'd wear fancy Egyptian robs with gold earrings or something. They'd probably all have matching, orange-tinted sunglasses like he did, too.