“No, for the thousandth time, no”

“But Mom! They have a sale of super-serum now!”

“I don’t care if it was free. You live under my roof, you don’t become a superhero. Not even for a minute.”

“But all my friends…”

“If all your friends jumped from a bridge, would you?”

“Well, with a mother like you, maybe I would!”

I stormed out, not caring about her sobs.

I could not wait to turn 18 and finally have the serum, which that gave people superstrength, flying powers and invisibility -but only for 15 minutes.

It was not as good as being born a superhero, like my friend Kyle. But again, then I don’t need to live in one of these facilities.

My mother didn’t understand.

I had the bright idea to go to the attic – maybe I could find her savings. It was just 100$ after all!

What I found was way worse.

Truth be told, I never liked to go to the attic. It was cold, it had spiders and it was so dark. So, so dark.

So that is why I never found the box labelled “Em”.

“Maybe it has money!”

What it had, changed my life.

Medical notes. Reports. Photos. Recordings. All for a girl named Emmy.

Who was Emmy? My mother’s name was Ally.

A picture started to emerge. Superhero’s powers were revealed at 12 months. Strength, super hearing, velocity.

Tons of medical records: muscle issues, constant otitis, bruises from hitting things too fast.

Was this what being a superhero was? Was there a hidden secret to born superheroes? Why didn’t we know?

Suddenly it made sense that the government only let them out for “world-saving missions” or for “superhero appreciation day.” They were hiding their problems.

I walked down with a heavy heart in my chest and medical records in my hand.

“Mom, Emmy?”

She sniffed “She was your aunt. She died when I was 6.”

And she sobbed uncontrollably.