[ WP ] Everyone on Earth has a superpower . Some people have incredible abilities , but most have very mundane powers , you included . Tell us about being a convenience store worker when someone tries to rob your store .

My mom always told me I ’ d grow up to be something special, and she ’ d say it just like that: “ Jess, you ’ re really going to be something special one day. ” And you knew she meant it too, and not just in that way that all mothers want to believe that their child is some special snowflake. No, my mom ’ s confidence that I ’ d amount to something more than a waste of space was the kind of surety that only comes from a person who has seen the future for themselves. 
 
 Precognition, an S-class ability that kept our family healthy, wealthy, and mostly not dead. I come from a long line of S-classers. My dad ’ s skin was impervious to any physical attack. My mom ’ s mom could command water like an extension of her own body, and my dad ’ s grandfather once lifted a skyscraper over his head. Heroes and leaders, the lot of them. Me? I working third-shift at the convenience store down the street asking deadbeat drunks whether they want paper or plastic. 
 
 Work the late shift long enough and you ’ ll see more of humanity ’ s unshowered underbelly than you ever wanted to smell in your entire life. So, when the guy with the black ski mask came waltzing into my store twitching and looking over his shoulder every two seconds, my only real reaction was a low monotonous, “ Welcome to 8-Twelve… our specials tonight include large slushies and a 50 % discount on these expired health bars my boss told me to throw away last week. ” 
 
 I suppose he was trying to look casual, but his movements were foreign, like an alien in costume merely pretending to be human. He strutted towards the counter, jaw jutting near as I could tell, with his hands pressed hard into his ragged jacket pockets. Wild eyes scanned the store, looking up and back ensuring that we were alone and scoping out the building ’ s security cameras –which I doubted had been in operation since thing 70s. 
 
 “ Can I help you? ” I asked. 
 
 One of the man ’ s hands shot out of his pocket and scooped all the change from our “ Give a Penny; Take a Penny ” cup. In one jerky motion, he tossed the change into the air like confetti and pointed a lone finger at me in the shape of a gun. As they fell, the change suddenly stopped their descent, floating and spinning slow circles around the robber ’ s dirt-encrusted index fingers –most of the coins, anyway. A penny or two fell and rattled back onto the counter. Canadian coins, I then realized. 
 
 I arched an eyebrow. “ So, you can only manipulate US currency? ” 
 
 “ Empty the register into a plastic bag, ” the man rasped, clearly trying to mask his voice in low, guttural tones. 
 
 I looked at my watch and sighed. Still three hours until my shift was over. The neon “ open ” sign in the window flashed on and off like it were laughing at me. “ Can ’ t you just get it yourself? Just float it out and go? ” I groaned. 
 
 The man shifted nervously, the floating coins drifting to adjust their orbits accordingly. “ J-just do it already. ” He trained his finger back on me. “ You need a physics lesson? ” 
 
 I shrugged. “ I dropped out of school, so… ” 
 
 Biting his lower lip, the man cleared his throat. “ A single penny is 2.5 grams. With one thought, I could shoot any of them at up to 2,500 feet per second. ” He trained the miscellaneous coins towards my head and said, “ At that speed, the amount of force is no different than a bullet, and at this distance, you ’ re as good as dead. ” 
 
 “ So… that ’ s a ‘ no ’ on being able to float paper money, right? ” 
 
 The guy swore. It was a B-level super power at best if he were telling the truth. Even if he could only affect loose pocket change from the US, the ability to create a telepathic bullet was something to be respected. Still, most small-timers were like this: C or D-listers find some niche situation to put their abilities into a higher bracket or make themselves more useful than they normally were. I should know, I ’ ve done it myself often enough. 
 
 “ You had a cat as a kid, didn ’ t you? ” 
 
 “ The hell does that have to do with- ” 
 
 “ -a scruffy orange tabby. Her name… I ’ m getting an… M. Madam… ” 
 
 The robber ’ s hand fell aside, the coins plinking to the tile floor and rolling under counters and displays. “ Madam Fluffypants? ” his voice croaked. 
 
 I nodded, but was nevertheless put-off by the poor naming choice. “ She ’ s here. ” 
 
 He took a sudden step back. “ S-she is? ” 
 
 Staring off into the distance for dramatic effect, I let my voice lilt with every word. “ She wants to ask you something. She wants to know why? ” 
 
 The man gulped. “ Why? ” he echoed. 
 
 “ Why did you let them take me?... Why did you leave? ” 
 
 “ I didn ’ t- I was just 7. I couldn ’ t- ” 
 
 “ They never loved me, Robert. They never played with me. You abandoned me. ” 
 
 The man pulled off his ski mask, his face red and lips quivering. “ I didn ’ t mean to. I ’ m sorry. We had to move and dad said I couldn ’ t take you- I ’ m sorry! ” 
 
 He started crying. After a few minutes of further pressing the man crumpled onto the floor sobbing, and it became clear that he wasn ’ t going anywhere. In the intervening time, another customer walked in and just as quickly walked right back out. I huffed, got out from behind the counter, and attempted to console the man with expired protein bars. I only have one real power, and cleaning up the tears always sucked because my one and only ability is to see a person ’ s childhood trauma.
