I wasn't always this way... Or perhaps that is what I think I think.

The senses aren't always trustworthy. The mind can store such senses as a memory—such is called an experience. But as Plato has explained with his famous cave, there are many things our senses can't sense. If a man stayed in the comforts of village life, they would never experience how life in the cities would feel like. That aside, there is also bias at play—the subjective lays its hands on everyone. I might even describe it as inescapable. We humans dream so much of the objective, but we never question whether or not this objective truth can even be obtained. The moment we are born into this world, all our thoughts are subjected to bias; shaped and molded into the wants of the parent. Babies are brought up like pets to be fawned upon—manipulated. They are taught to conform to the ideals of society. 'Try your best!' they say. If only they could see the hollowness and lack of consideration in those bright words of encouragement.

Then what of orphans? Well, they too are molded by their environments. The environment in which we grow is one such factor that leads us to become who we are. The fact that our minds can perceive reality the way it is, is in and of itself, subjective to human perception. What if we were all living in some sort of simulated world? We wouldn't know...

Sometimes, when I watch over people, I start questioning my own existence. Perhaps I am the only one who exists in this world as we call it. I'm supposedly a human—just like everyone else—yet why do I feel like some other species watching over their troglodyte ancestors. But of course, thinking I am the only being in this cruel place is a stupid thought; since I must admit, there are so many astonishing inventions in this world modeled by great minds. Had I been in the place of Thomas Edison, I doubt I would have been able to synthesize the world's first light bulb. Had I been Albert Einstein, I would have dropped out of school and became homeless. Indeed, thoughts are meaningless when there is no practical use to it; being creative is useless without a pair of hands; having arms is meaningless when you can't see or hear. I may see better than others, but the existence of other geniuses like Socrates and Leonardo da Vinci cannot be denied. To me, they are all flawed—but they have reached a realm of perfect far above mine. To be perfect is not to be intelligent or smart or strong, but to have the ultimate coordination between the brain and the body. It is not to favor brawn over brains, or brains over brawn, but to have the two balanced. But this also leads to the question: is perfect obtainable? Perhaps not to the human. Or perhaps...

The common person is a grain of rice amidst an infinite sea. What are the chances you will find a speck of gold in this sea of rice? I'd say near zero. At least I can understand what all those billionaire investors are talking about when they are trying to find a worthy business to invest in. Still, I wonder why I am thinking all this when I am most probably a grain of rice too. I suppose th—

Ah, it seems I left the window blinds open last night. Did I not shut them to a complete close? Anyway, it should be about now.

*Bzzz Bzzz Bz—

Yup. Back to school, it seems. I should have around an hour before departure.

Getting off the bed, I made haste of my time: downing two glasses of water. It wasn't at all hard—you get used to drinking large measures of water once you do it enough. I bent my neck to the right and quickly swung it to the left, allowing for a crack to escape. I rolled my neck around in a circle a couple more times to make sure it wasn’t stiff. There was no need to tidy the bed since it would just be a waste of time.

After brushing my teeth, I let the sink faucet run water through my hair. I gave it a rough patting with a towel and pushed all the hair up. I had short bangs that only reached to the eyebrows on the right side but it still gave me a mad scientist look—with black hair of course. Going back to my room, I grabbed the heavy jump rope hidden away in a secret compartment I made in the desk drawer. With it in hand, I grabbed my phone and pressed an app with four music symbols on it.

*Bmm

Sure enough, that was the sound of the door being slammed shut. They should be out of the house now.

Putting on the wireless headphones, I headed downstairs as I found a random playlist to listen to. Taking another turn once reaching the living room, I entered another doorway before heading down to the basement. Taking one last look at the digital clock on my phone, I'd give or take thirty minutes. Thus, I began by warming up my wrists by putting my hands against the wall. Holding the position on my palms for a couple seconds before resting with the back of my hands on the wall and pushing against it. I was forcefully bending my wrists past its normal range of motion. I then did the same warmup on my fingertips. Once that was over, I made a couple lunges on the ground to stretch my legs and hamstrings. After making some heavy kicks in the air as a dynamic stretch, I got down on the ground and started doing explosive push-ups. I didn't know what this variation was called, but I saw someone on a video doing it.

The knuckles of my pointer and middle finger kissed the ground to form a fist push-up. Once I got all the way down, I pushed up as hard as I could while keeping my whole body tensed. In the short fraction of time that I was in the air, I bent my fingers to face each other, and nimbly landed on the back of my hands. Some called this the wrist push-up or the backhand push-up, but one thing was for sure: if your wrists weren't strong enough, you'd probably break them. I pushed down once again and propelled my upper body into the air while landing in the standard push-up variation with palms down. I went once again to land on only the fingertips and then back to the fist. I considered this a full repetition of the exercise.

After doing it until I felt the soreness of my hands, I took a small thirty-second break which also acted as a water break. I could keep going, but it wouldn't bring many benefits since it wasn't going to work out my triceps or biceps unless I did it for a very long time. There was also the fact that I intended to get some cardio in. Grabbing the jump ropes I set aside on the bed—yes, there happened to be an old bed in the basement for who knows what reason—I started jumping rope in the most spacious part of the basement. It wasn't an optimal place for jumping rope, but it was what it was. If I jumped too high or swung too high, the rope would glide across the ceiling, making a loud cracking sound. Unless I messed up real hard, the momentum would still be maintainable. There were also a lot of other miscellaneous items in the basement that I took care not to hit—like that television over there... Why was that there again? Anyway, I should focus.

The secret to jumping rope was keeping the body relaxed—quite contrary to the concept of exercise. Instead of swinging the arms which incorporated the frontal deltoids/shoulder muscles, the better method was to swing from the wrists. I made sure to keep my wrists near my pelvis at all times because if it went too far up, down, or in any other direction, it would make it much harder. The goal of jumping rope wasn't to make it an intense exercise—but for endurance. But some lunatics jump rope like beasts with limitless strength—and I'm not one of them. After all, I’m only exercising for the sake of staying fit. One can never be too prepared for a life or death event.

*Bzzz Bzz—

Turning off my phone alarm: the digital clock read to be 7:48 AM. The rags that I used as both pajamas and gym clothes were sticky from my worked-up sweat.

After taking an actual shower this time and drying my hair properly so I wouldn't look like an Einstein-wannabe, I dressed up in uniform. Making sure I had on my keys, phone, wallet, headphones, and backpack, I headed out. The moment I set foot out the door, the sun shot rays of light at my sensitive eyes...

Damn.

I fucking hate school.

One of the contributing factors was the boring commute. Taking the train or any other transportation service was a complete waste of time since a one-way trip took up an hour; which means two whole hours of my life are wasted on going to school—then there's the actual school which eats up at least six more hours of my schedule. There's only so much time I spend sleeping, so I usually sleep through my commutes. It wasn't that the train was safe enough for me to carelessly sleep on; it was the question of why would I be in danger. Why would anyone want to bomb a train or shoot people on a train? In the rare instance that there was a sudden terrorist attack on the train, I'd firstly be excited; and then realize the fact that it is likely for me to die. If the shooters intended to kill everyone, it wouldn't matter if I was awake or asleep—I'd still die. After all, I'm only human. In the face of guns, it isn't like I have Superspeed to avoid it. I don't have a convenient ability that allows me to heal on the spot; nor do I think I'm some martial artist who can dismantle a group of people with guns—such an idea isn't realistic.

There was also the addition of a newer and much more dangerous factor: the emergence of superpowers. It has only been a week since the news has been announced, but I'm certain that many have already discovered their powers. It isn't known if only a select group had powers which left others powerless, or if everyone had them—but these supernatural powers were dangerous either way. The theory that’s been circulating in the media though, suggests we all have powers—but they are hidden inside ourselves—laying dormant until they are realized or face some sort of stressful experience. There’s been a lot of talk about how life or death experiences helped in awakening the powers. Honestly, it would be great if this theory was true—but on the other hand, if only some people had powers and others didn't, then that would spell trouble for me. The me of current does not possess any powers. At least not that I am aware of. But I do hope I had something; if not, then I am doomed in this growing society.

From my predictions of the future, the social hierarchy will revolve around those who have strong powers. The government will be controlled by strong people. The current police forces probably won't be able to do much against these people with insane powers even if they were armed with missiles; which leads me to believe that a secret justice organization is being formed in the background: an organization with the same prestige as the FBI. Perhaps it is a superhero organization. Perhaps they are robot cops. Or perhaps I have been reading too many comics. Either way, these are all possibilities that I can hope to expect. That includes a zombie apocalypse. Maybe there exists a superpower that can create viruses. Or a superpower that can mind control. Or one that can steal other people's superpowers and use them…

The world ought to be doomed if that last idea really was a superpower.

Either way, I just had to imagine all the possibilities. If I open my mind to everything, I can stay calm when such an event does occur. In such a scenario, I can have the confidence to say "like I expected," and sound like a prophet... Not that acting cool does anything good for me; it just sounds cool which motivates me to continue living this mundane life.

Once I got on the train, I made sure the music on my headphones were loud enough so I could sleep peacefully without outside interference. The train carriages got pretty loud whenever they turned. You may wonder how I can sleep with music on—but I just can. Well, I wouldn't call it REM sleep, but more of an abstract meditative state. It's that feeling of rest when your eyes are closed and you feel as though you are floating in a swimming pool. There are no waves. There are no other signs of life. The sunlight can't pierce your eyes. You feel at rest. It's warm. Yet, you can hear everything. Your mind is still thinking, sensing, and feeling. But you feel as if in a slumbering sanctuary. A coma...

Anyway, that's the best description I can give. I myself don't know how it works; it just does.

I was always a light sleeper. Whenever my body felt the slightest disturbance in the air, I would suddenly wake. You could call it insomnia. If I am to explain it, it is the feeling of impending doom. I feel as if I am under a constant threat. It is like how some animals sleep. They give off the appearance of a sleeping creature. But in reality, they can still sense the approaching predator sneaking up on them from a mile away. What I'm trying to get at is how I never seem to be able to shut my brain down. The power-off button did not exist in my dictionary.

Well, I should probably rest my eyes n—

*CRKCRKCKRKC

The fuck is up with the sudden noise? Did someone pull the brakes of the train?

I had been using my backpack as a pillow by propping it on my lap. Now, I had to lift my head up from the position to look around. I don't like it when my routine is interrupted. But if it’s some interesting event, I may forgive it.

The first couple of train stops usually didn't have many people, so the train carriage right now was fairly empty with only me and a few other people scattered around. It wasn't until the later stops that it would get crowded.

As I surveyed my surroundings, everyone else seemed to have a similar reaction to me. Fuck. Does the train have a technical issue or something? Did the conductor succumb to explosive diarrhea? Damn, looks like I will be late to class...

Not that I really care.

*Crerrrk

Ah. So it was this huh?

Coming from the door that connected the train carriages together was a group of men.

"GET OUT WITH YOUR MONEY IF YALL WANTA LIVE!!!" said the guy in front. Hold on...

What kind of clichéd line is that? Isn't it straight out of a comic book?

The gang was dressed in full black as if wanting to restart the monotone fashion sense of the 2010s and 2020s. They all had bandanas that covered their face along with sunglasses. The hoodies they had on weren't gangster-like since it looked to be made of silk. I'd have expected something more from a gang—something like those expensive leather jackets with spikes on the—

Seeing the ball of fire floating from the guy's hand, I realized I should stop judging based on appearance. None of them had guns. But...

They were armed with powers.

I really jinxed it this time huh? Wow.

I guess? There isn’t much for me to say in such a situation. Oh, wait a minute. I forgot a crucial step to developing the plot. Gotta set the flag after all!

*Ehhem

I gave a small cough to ready my(internal) voice.

'Oh shit! Who's going to save me now? I'm going to die!!! Looks like I'll have to put my bet on the world's greatest superhero to save me. I'm afraid if they don't appear...'

Ahh, who am I kidding. I must be crazy thinking to myself like this... Well if I'm going to die, it's better to die with a laugh. Either way, there's no reason to fear death. I'll just pray to the gods that I get reincarnat—

"Oh? Criminals like you have the balls to steal from people in broad daylight?" The voice came from...somewhere. Telekinesis? Psychic Manipulation? It's probably some abstract superpower relating to the mind.

"Huh?!?" the wannabe gangsters gasped in unison in a much too dramatic fashion. I couldn't see behind the bandanas or sunglasses, but I could bet they were wearing the expression of a stupified dunce... Was this real or was it just some theatrical play for my entertainment?

The fireball from the guy's hand suddenly disappeared as he clenched his stomach in pain—I mean... If he really had the balls to throw something like a fireball in this confined space, his gang would sustain some serious collateral damage too.

The rest of the gang followed suit and kneeled on the ground in pain. I couldn't tell if they were acting or it genuinely hurt that much. In the first place, what power was this? Is it perhaps something called Cosmic Diarrhea Inducing Pain?

Tssk. Weak. Even if I was stabbed with twenty knives, I can't imagine myself falling to the ground like these fools—no, I'd already have bled to death with two knives in my body, but I still can't imagine myself kneeling over from the pain. You could say my pain tolerance was superhuman. I wouldn't consider it a superpower though; in fact, I'd be quite depressed if pain tolerance was my superpower.

Once all the wannabe gang members were seemingly knocked unconscious, I could hear the police sirens zooming in from outside.

"Like I expected..." I whispered quietly to myself while holding in the laughter. I mean, just what are the chances for some stupid shit like this to happen on the train ride to school? It isn’t every day that you encounter a group of hooligans passed out from stomach pain.

But seriously, I would have died today...

Pffftt. I couldn’t hold in the laughter now and became that maniac on the train. Was it sadism? Schadenfreude? No, it was just plain stupidity. This situation was stupid as hell. Maybe my superpower is the ability to predict future events. Or the power to make something naturally happen by thinking about it. Well, I guess superheroes really do exist. Hehe.

Why would I need to fear death? It’s stupid to fear the inevitable. Besides...

I just got the perfect excuse to skip the first-period class.