It felt great to finally have a name, believe me, and I did everything to cope with it, to make it popular among the newspapers. Surprisingly, it had become known rather quickly, thanks to Edna and my dear friends at the police. Somehow everyone stopped describing me as a super and said fantastic instead. I think that had been Edna's work too. What I say now may be weird, but to be honest with you guys, I didn't really liked the attention, because the more the people knew me, the more they seemed to despise me. I could hear it, all these hateful thoughts swirling in their heads, the swirled in my head too. Everytime I had visited Edna and she had mentioned how 'special' I was, my blood had begun to boil.
Even when I had powers, I would still be different from other supers and I couldn't live as a human either. I was a category for myself and I was alone in it, unless I had the plan to genetically modify some humans (although searching in the surrounding of Chernobill was an option too...). "When the first supers were born they felt alone too..." Mom had always told me, but that didn't satisfy me. My fate had been to be born as a human child of two supers and to become a fanstatic. Yippie. Not only that, but once again I had to feel the difference between me and a super.
I have mentioned Helen, haven't I? And I haven't talked about my brother for a while, right? Well, all this has its reasons, because Bob had taken some distance for a while only to prove, once again, that the woman I wanted preferred him. Yes, you heard right, Helen and Bob. Those words flowed past the lips. The first time I had seen them together, I wouldn't have been surprised to see a golden light around them when they first met. They were perfect together. And they knew it. Apparently they had decided to marry after a few months, even though he was barely nineteen. "We'll marry later," he had told me, oh yes, leave me to suffer, asshole. He had seen it all along, the way I had looked at Helen, but he would greet me with that smug grin. "Slime-ball," I had spat into his face, I had enough thoughts in my head, I hadn't needed to hold back my own. Now I can't say I hadn't been jealous of him, but neither I had been angry for loving Helen. Somehow I hadn't resented him for taking such a fine woman for him. I had understood. The thing I hated about it was the way he would rub it in my face.
Every time something like that had happened, my sibling and I didn't really have a serious fight. Occasionally, though, we would insult each other. Sometimes we had one-sided outbursts (he was being a lot more sovereign than me). The thing was that mine were much worse and it didn't escape Bob that they had multiplied the past two years. I usually was calm and silent, but every time he had had the idea to have a talk between brothers, I would only explode like a volcano once again. BOOM! There I was shouting at him. Fuck you! Bastard! Idiot! Ignorant fucker! Yep. That's the way I talked to him. In the end he always had been too proud to respond like a normal brother (I mean shouting back obscenitys). He pretended to understand me, that I was stressed because I wasn't used to be super. I gained my powers three years ago. And I'm a fantastic, shithead.
Of course that hadn't helped, for all my counter-productivebehavior (Oh my god! You're yelling at your brother!), the other heroes would still see me as a beginner, a nighter. You humans think we aren't organised in any way, but that's definitely not true. We don't show up somewhere at the right time because we just had the feeling in a few moments was the time to save the world once again. No. That would have been great, but no. The supers placed higher in the hierarchy, our 'Heads' (I always saw them better without it) were always complete assholes and had decided to punish other supers if they had done something bad like forgetting to scrub the floor after having saved the building from burning down or singing at work. Since I didn't really cared a fuck about people's luxury but more about their lives and favorite songs of other minds constantly stuck in my head, I got punished. I was at constant night-shift. Still I don't see what was so different about working at night or at day, maybe the constant darkness, the raised criminality, the lacking press (although some considered that as a good thing), the lacking heroes or the ungrateful neighbors when you woke them in the middle of the night by breaking into the laboratory of a crazy scientist. Really, I couldn't see what's supposed to be better when you're a sunner. My younger colleagues working at night with me had affectionately called them lighters when I had started crushing their cigarette lighters in fear to see me stand alone by the end of the year.
Surprisingly, when the end of the year came, we were all still standing, I was still a nighter and after failing miserably in my love-life (love life, not sex-life) and after having drunk too much at a party, I had found out how incredibly good men were in bed (the fact I am one doesn't have anything to do with that... Well, okay, it does). Children, learn now! Number one rule when you're still living at your parents home and reach the age where you're constantly bonking your colleagues: get a fucking apartment. In my case, I had been looking forward to live together with some open students.