[ WP ] Everyone in the world gains a superpower when they turn 13 years old . Yours is the ability to make people feel mildly uncomfortable in regular situtions . Thus , the legend of the greatest hero in the world was born .

WARNING: Story contains attempted rape and some coarse language. Written on mobile. 
 
 `` Um, can I help you?'' 
 
 I say nothing as I continue staring. Kinetic rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, momentarily forgetting about the eighteen-wheeler he has suspended in the air over those innocents he gagged and bound. Luckily he's not so distracted as to drop the truck. Side-effect of my talent. 
 
 He looks left and right, blowing a deep breath slowly through his cheeks. Basically what I feel on a daily basis interacting with people. I get a twinge of empathy for him, but I ca n't relent. If I break my focus, those civilians will be crushed. 
 
 `` So, is there something on my face, or...?'' Then Captain Brave slams into him, and the pair go flailing earthwards. The truck begins its descent, but Doldrums sweeps it aside with a blast of wind, and it tumbles safely out of the path of the innocents. 
 
 I blink several times and shake my head. My eyes were starting to get dry. If anything gets in them during an operation, things could become disastrous. When I've made sure my eyes are fine, Brave straightens up from the unconscious telekinetic. 
 
 `` Thanks for holding him off, kid!'' he booms, almost crumpling my fingers in one of his customary pulverizing handshakes. 
 
 `` Yeah,'' I manage, `` you too.'' I'm in too much pain to notice my conversational faux pas. In no time, Doldrums has finished untying the civilians and after a clap on the back, she and Captain Brave haul Kinetic off to containment. I quickly back away behind the busted truck and slip off my ridiculous mask. 
 
 I first discovered my power when my field trip group was caught in crossfire between Brave and one of his twenty-seven nemeses, I ca n't remember whom exactly anymore. I could n't believe what I was seeing, so I stared. By pure luck, the antagonist caught my gaze, and his self-consciousness went up a thousand percent. It gave Brave the breathing space he needed to get the jump on his nemesis. 
 
 The rest is history. I've stared down about ten villains during their rampages now, but somehow... I do n't feel like a heroine. I mean, I just -look- at them, and they get so visibly awkward that it hurts. I mean, sure, it keeps evil scum off the streets, and the media says the mysterious kid in the mask has a great superpower, but I bet I'd feel more accomplished if I had rippling muscles or lighting sparking from my fingertips. 
 
 I mingle with the rest of the crowd as they help up the traumatized civilians, and make my way to the train station, making sure my mask is tucked deep into my bag. 
 
 What's worse: when I discovered my powers, I was horsing around with a friend with this mask depicting that old AWESOME-face meme, the guy with a circular yellow face and semicircular eyes and mouth. Now it's become my alter ego. The face I present to heroes and villains alike. Please, no need to feel jealous. 
 
 I let out a deep sigh of relief as I settle into a nook against the wall in the crowded train. I live pretty near the central business district, where most of the villains tend to attack. I think it's gotten to the point where Captain Brave and the crew -expect- me to show up before them during a crisis. Thanks to me, crime is on the downward trend, but you're not going to find `` making people feel awkward'' on any Top Ten Best Abilities lists on the web anytime soon. 
 
 I lean against the window, watching Brave's face flash by, plastered on a billboard above a distant highway. `` The Starer is one of the greatest superheroes the world has ever seen,'' I remember him saying at one of the many press conferences I had n't been invited to. Me? Great? What a joke. 
 
 ~~ 
 
 I squeeze past the crowd and make my way to my apartment building. My phone buzzes. It's a message from my childhood friend, David. 
 
 Pats I'm in the playground now I rly need to talk to u. Pls meet there? 
 
 I change course, heading for the children's playground behind the residential block. Dave and I used to play there a lot, but with the rise of computers and consoles, we visited less and less as we grew up. Now, the chains on the swings are rusted and the paint on the jungle gym bars has mostly flaked off. Once in a while though, like right now, we meet up there to talk about our troubles. 
 
 As always, I vault over the low stone wall instead of taking the stairs, and land with a -thump- next to David... Then we're both surrounded. 
 
 Before I can even make the connection between David's visible distress and the tall seniors fencing us in, I'm shoved off my feet. My messenger bag is torn from my shoulder. `` No, I need that!'' I cry, but to my relief, my assailant does n't rifle through it, only tossing it over his shoulder. But my relief is short-lived. 
 
 `` Patrice,'' Dave snivels, half-squinting through a black eye, `` I'm so sorry! They said if I did n't, they'd --'' 
 
 The -swish-click- of an arm-blade finishes his sentence for him. A senior leans down, gently running the flat of the blade along my ribs. `` Oh, we will,'' he sneers, `` we will anyway, but at least now we get to have a little fun!'' 
 
 I realize what kind of situation I'm in, and my heart plummets. I struggle against the suddenly strong gravity that pins me to the ground for a few seconds before remembering my power. I try to make eye contact with a senior, but I get a slap across the cheek for my troubles. 
 
 My sweatshirt is split open by the blade, and a hot bolt of rage makes me clench my teeth. I want to rip the blade from that bastard's shoulder and plunge it into his chest, then make the rest of them swallow their teeth. But I ca n't do anything under this gravity. Out of desperation, I crane my neck to the side to catch David's eye through the mess of legs. 
 
 Then something curious happens. His expression changes from regretful to indignant to furious to... -determined-. 
 
 With a strangled cry, he, a pudgy twelve-year old, rushes forward, and the next thing I know, the crowd of seniors around me looks a little thinner. The senior with the arm-blade does n't pay any mind, licking his lips as he grabs the hem of my T-shirt, ready to saw through it with his blade. 
 I can hear flesh colliding with flesh, and a familiar forearm jolts into view behind my assailant. Is -David- hitting them? 
 
 `` End of the line, girlie,'' the senior croons sickeningly, straddling my legs, widening the tear in my shirt -- 
 
 `` HEY!'' David bellows, wrenching the armed senior away from me. Faster than I've seen the kid move, Dave grabs the bully's blade, prompting a cry of pain, and ear-splitting -PRANG! - as the blade snaps, and a muffled -clunk- as it falls to the sandy ground. 
 
 The senior pinning me down with gravity shifts his focus, and by the time I've retrieved my bag, David is stepping deftly past an energy blast, kicking the last of the bullies in the ribs. Like the others, he whimpers a bit when he lands and hobbles after his lowlife friends. 
 
 When I rush over to him, Dave is breathing hard. His sleeve is burning. `` Are you okay?'' I ask, patting his sleeve repeatedly. He does n't seem to notice the ash falling from his shoulder. `` I thought you do n't turn thirteen for another eight months.'' 
 
 He blinks, snapping out of his fugue, and looks me in the eye. `` I do n't,'' he affirms, looking at his red knuckles. `` I just looked at you and all my pain turned into anger, or something...'' 
 
 We both realize different things at the same time. `` Eye contact,'' David mumbles, awestruck. `` You're the Starer, are n't you?'' I nod, not really listening. I'd always assumed making people feel awkward was all there was to my power, and it was just a coincidence that my normal state was to be anxious and uncomfortable. But when I was pinned down, I felt so enraged, and Dave had taken on that rage when I looked at him -- 
 
 David suddenly pulls me into a tight hug, interrupting my thoughts. `` You're a great person and a great friend,'' he says from my shoulder. Then, after he pulls away, he looks me square in the eye. `` That means they're right. You're a great superheroine.'' I get the feeling some of the anger I have him is still there, morphing into adamance and confidence. The cowardly crybaby I once knew is giving way to something else. I ca n't help but smile. 
 
 He takes me by the hand, leading me up the stairs, out of the playground. `` Now, let's see if we ca n't do anything about that mask...'' 
 
 ~~ 
 
 First story on WP, constructive criticism welcome!
