[ WP ] For the first time ever , a person is born with a genuine superpower . They proceed to live out their entire life without noticing or realizing it .

`` Tell me about your friend Joe, Anthony,'' the well dressed man spoke softly and crossed his leg as he looked down at the boy and readied himself to take notes. 
 
 `` He's a good guy, I met him in middle school and we've been pretty close ever since.'' 
 
 Anthony sat with his hands between his legs, his terrible teenage posture portraying a bout with anxiety as he shifted slowly against the leather padded seat. 
 
 `` That's what your parents told me. He helped you a lot of tough times in school, right?'' 
 
 `` Oh yeah, in high school I used to get picked on, but Joe always stood up for me when ever I got bullied.'' 
 
 `` That's good. I think we could all use a friend like that. Your parents explained that he was from a broken home, right?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, he actually... never really had a home. I guess his parents abandoned him when he was really young, but no one really knew how he got by.'' 
 
 `` I see. You're aware the police are after him?'' 
 
 `` Yes, and look despite what they're saying he did, he did n't do it.'' 
 
 `` They just want to question him, Anthony, and you're the only one who was close to him. You could make this a lot easier on him if you help us find him.'' 
 
 Anthony's seized up as a grimace crossed his pale facade. He took a defensive stance and crossed his arms as he turned his face away from the therapist. 
 
 The therapist sighed and stood up, walking out of his office and into the receptionist area where Anthony's parents patiently waited. Another man was pacing about the waiting room on his cellphone, speaking low but loud enough that the therapist could tell he was the detective on the case. 
 
 `` Mister and Mrs. Russo?... and Roger, is it?'' 
 
 Anthony's mother perked up with a gentle smile, looking up at the therapist as hope swelled within the confines of a plastic smile. Roger turned to face the therapist with a graceful swivel, placing his hand over the receiver of the cell phone. 
 
 `` I think we need to consider other options. Detective, I know you've been pressing for information about this murder case, but the boy is very difficult to establish trust with. I can keep trying, however I can not guarantee results.'' 
 
 The Detective nodded and walked to the therapist, pulling him to the side as they both turned form the parents. 
 
 `` I understand what you're saying Doc. I'd like to know if you noticed anything peculiar about Anthony's behavior... mannerisms and such, when you were asking him questions.'' 
 
 `` Are you asking me if he looked guilty?'' 
 
 `` Yes. We need some guidance on this. Those three kids that were murdered knew Anthony as well as Joe.'' 
 
 `` I've interviewed dozens of criminals before, but this kid does n't carry any of the tell tale signs of a murderer much less a criminal. I know those kids bullied him throughout high school, but he does not show any kind of animosity towards them, at least none I've seen.'' the therapist trailed off. He stopped and thought for a moment, `` Do you have a picture of Joe? It's a long shot but I might be able to tell you a bit about him from his photo.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, I'll send it over after we're done here. Let me know if you think of anything else.'' 
 
 `` Sure.'' 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 
 
 The therapist sorted through his files for the day, finalizing his financial reports. He heard the signal prompt for a new mail and check his gmail. Opening the email, he waited for a few seconds as the image loaded as a thumbnail and downloaded it. 
 
 Opening it on his second screen, he adjusted his glasses as the image popped up. It was a portrait shot of Anthony and Joe. Anthony was smiling and so was Joe. 
 
 At first the therapist did n't notice anything peculiar, but then he began to study Joe's facial features. Everything seemed to be off or rather distorted. He looked closer and his mind shifted back to one of the transvestite victims he had interviewed a few weeks back. Joe looked like his face had at one point in time been feminine and had shifted into something more masculine. 
 
 But there was something even more unsettling about his face. The brow ridge, nose shape, and a number of the traits were familiar, but altered as if the boy was an imperfect projection of someone else. 
 
 He looked closer and noticed his eye color. An exotic hue of blue, a light shade very reminiscent of the color of the moon. He had seen it before. 
 
 He turned his chair as his eyes moved over the surface of the desk. Leaning in, he opened the case file and saw a family portrait of the Russo's turned diagonal. Gently he reached forward and righted the picture, watching it slide into a more ordinary position under the weight of the paper clip. Suddenly his mouth dropped open. 
 
 He leaned in even closer and examined it noting the exotic eye color. He pulled the picture and placed it against the computer screen. There was no explanation, but he could see it. The face matched, but not exactly. As he had noticed before, it was if certain features had been molded and contorted into a masculine form. 
 
 Joe... was Anthony's mother. 
 
 
 
 
 

