I’ve always liked the game, “If you were a superhero, what would your superpower be?” I’ve always known exactly what my superpower would be. My brother says that I already have a superpower, but it does more harm than good as it is. So why should I want another one?
It’s not hard to figure out why.
When people are being polite, people say that my life would exemplify the expression “once in a blue moon.” When they’re not, they say that my life is just a series of freak accidents. Usually because I have somehow gotten paint on the final paper that was in a sealed envelope in a backpack in a locker in a different room. And the paper wasn’t mine. I still haven’t managed to figure that one out.
It’s not because I’m particularly clumsy, or awkward, or gawky, or that I even try to mess things up for other people. It’s just that I try and do one thing, and something completely unrelated goes wrong, somehow because of me. And then everyone is shouting, “Kerry!” At which point I patiently explain that I was setting the table when a dish hit the table rather loudly, which startled the cat, who ran into the kitchen and tripped Mom, who dropped the bowl she was holding against the window sill, which knocked the plant out the open window, which landed on my brother’s skateboard, which rolled down the driveway, which my neighbor Cory tripped over. And then he sprained his ankle, the day before the last soccer game of the season. He was the star kicker.
It’s not really a wonder that I get blamed for things that don’t really even have anything to do with me. I’m pretty sure that the paint thing wasn’t my fault. At least, no one can prove that I had anything to do with it.
If I had a superpower, I would want to be able to see the future. That way, I’d be able to stop the accidents from happening before they happen. That way, maybe Ethan would still have his final paper and Cory would have won that game. If I could see the future, then maybe my life wouldn’t be a constant stream of “if onlys.”