( WP ) Children all have superpowers that are suddenly lost after puberty . You have your first period and continue to have powers

They call it Mundanity. It's something that happens to everyone, there's no getting around it. Around the ages of ten to thirteen, you start growing hair in places you never wanted. You get strange thoughts and impulses. Your sexual organs start firing up, and hormones shape you from a blob of a child to the beautiful man or woman you're meant to be. And, of course, your superpowers go away. 
 
 I was one of the first in my class to hit Mundanity, and of course it happened out in the open. Suzie Strongarm could n't just pass me a note; no, she had to scream at the top of her lungs and point directly at the bright crimson streak running down my thigh. I flushed with embarrassment and sprinted from the classroom, the screams and laughter of my classmates ringing in my ears long after Ms. Prator had entered the bathroom with me, bringing the supplies I'd need to have handy for the rest of my life. 
 
 Now here I sit, being held by my homeroom teacher who pats my head as if to show affection. Even through my sobs and grief, I can feel the falseness of the act. Her limbs are stiff and her back straight, and the thought of crying into a corpse enters my mind. 
 
 “ I could read thoughts, ” she says to me as if that was any comfort. “ My parents could n't stand it. They said I was their little parrot, saying the worst things at the most inappropriate moments and there was nothing they could do about it. ” Her chuckles echo off the bathroom walls. I'm literally surrounded by her inanity. *Mind reading*? She likens my ability to *mind reading*? Despite my disdain, I sniffle and nod. 
 
 “ Thanks, Ms. Prator. ” 
 
 “ I'm just saying I understand how you must feel. Nobody likes to be mundane, but it's part of growing up. ” She sighs wistfully, clearly remembering how great it must have been to have to listen to every inane thought that passes through a person's head. “ But you're going to find that people treat you differently now. Especially you. ” 
 
 Especially me. She does n't even bother hiding the snark in her tone. I pull away, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. “ Thanks, Ms. Prator, ” I repeat. “ I ca n't wait. ” 
 
 Her eyes study my face behind thin-rimmed glasses, and I study her right back. She just looks so *old*, with wrinkles and creases all over her face, her ghost-white hair pulled back into a ponytail. Is this my future? To be consoling mundane children in a bathroom stall while I pine for days gone by? The thought of it makes me want to die. 
 
 “ I know you think you're better than us. ” Her tone is solemn now, and I'm half-convinced she's gloating. “ But you're not. Not anymore. You're just a little mundane girl, and you'll grow up to be a mundane woman and you'll have kids and they'll put you in your place just like you've done with us. ” 
 
 I shudder. I always knew the day would come, of course... but given my powers, who would have done any different? Ms. Prator stands up, looking down her nose at me: a snot-nosed little child sitting on a toilet with red streaks still faintly visible on her pale leg and a foreign object lodged inside her. I feel frustrated and powerless, doomed to walk the Earth a pale shadow of what I once was. 
 
 She turns and starts to unlatch the door to leave, but hesitates. Her head turns over her shoulder, her jagged nose evoking ghoulish imagery. “ But why wait, right? I'm sure Sarah and Peter in Ms. Harris' class will be interested to learn you've gone mundane. ” 
 
 The thick *CRACK* that follows surprises us both. For a moment I wonder if I'm hallucinating, because I just pictured Ms. Prator smashing her head against the bathroom door and now here I am, looking at a fifty-year-old woman on her knees, a streak of blood trailing from the top of the door to where her head rests slumped against it. I look down at myself, at the faint streaks on my leg, then back to Ms. Prator. 
 
 “ Get up, ” I say authoritatively as I rise to my own feet. She's obviously still dazed, but she does what I say. My eyes widen in excitement. I knew it. I *knew* it. I'm too *good* to give up my powers. My arms and legs bristle with energy and a giddy, overwhelming glee. “ You're not going to tell a soul what you know about my powers. You're gon na tell everyone I lost them. You'll say you saw the blood like everyone else in class, that little Isabella has gone mundane. ” I smirk up at her. “ You'll tell Sarah and Peter and the entire school that I'm harmless, wo n't you? ” 
 
 “ Y-yes... ” she whimpers. I imagine her cleaning up her head wound and she immediately rushes from the stall, bending over the sink and dampening paper towels. 
 
 “ Because if you do n't... ” I say, my mary janes tapping against the tile floor as I walk up beside her. “ I'm going to picture some very, *very* bad things. ” 
 
 “ You're mundane. ” Her voice is ragged and breathless. She inhales deeply, letting it out slow, and looks me in the eyes with conviction. “ You're mundane. ” This iteration is much more sincere, much more believable. I smile and nod, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. 
 
 I'm mundane, and I'm the most powerful girl in the world.
