Curiosity got me into a lot of trouble. My uncle, Samual, had the patience of a saint contrary to how lively and energetic I was, dashing about the rooms, touching things I wasn't allowed to play with, and annoying my uncle until I ran out of energy. I was your average six-year-old with an alarming fascination with my uncle's work, but that was often where the trouble arose.
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My mother and father worked for the Los Angeles police department and rarely saw my older brother Derek and me, leaving my uncle Samual in charge most days. Some nights, we slept over at the facility where he worked, meeting new people every time we stayed there. It was where I met my greatest enemy.
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Sam was a classified government scientist and a part-time babysitter. It wasn't until later that I learned the government group hid a malicious significance to my family and why I gained superpowers. Though fate had other ideas, he tried to protect me from the group.
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I still remember the day I got my abilities. It was just another ordinary day. My father took Derek to work for a father-and-son day at the station. Sam fixed me on a kid's chair in his laboratory as he took copious notes for his confederation. My thoughts strayed to the many vials of neon liquids strewn about the room.
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Sam's breath fogged the cold, spacious room. He hovered over his computer screen, typing and adding to the paperwork around his desk. Sam hid his rich brown irises beneath deep, sleepy bags, and his bangs masked his eyes. His focus was on his job or laptop, and he paid little to no attention to me most of the time, leading me to engage in mischief to catch his attention.
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As I took off, my feet dragged on the slick granite tiles, and I sped by Sam, fists pumping in the air. Sam looked up from his ample notes and slid his tongue along his captivating smile. Then, his gaze shifted to the marble table in the center of the room.
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"James Everett Knight, you better be careful," he yelled. My hips bumped the wide slab multiple times as I hopped on my toes.
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"Uncle Sam, I'm a superhero," I squeaked at the top of my lungs. I had no clue what would become of my childish behavior, but I would soon learn. Sam chewed on his blushed pink lips, and his eyes wandered to his computer screen.
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The air from the vent above grazed my warm cheeks as I raced around the room. My sneakers slid against the floor, and I performed laps around the experiment table. Sam still failed to focus on me, leaving me more interested than ever to know more about the illuminating vials on the marble slab.
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My heartbeat pounded in my chest as my tiny hands clutched one flask in my palm. A shadow hovered beyond the room's right corner. The boy's dark brown glare hid under dark curly locks, filling my blue-eyed vision. He looked about my age, no older than I was. He watched me, eager to encourage my behavior.
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The small boy gestured something I did not understand, but I figured Sam did since he reacted, shocked, urging the young boy away from me. My mind wandered to him with curiosity. He motioned to his mouth, encouraging me to drink the fluorescent fluids. My fingers pulled to my lips. The liquids passed my tongue, and the bright libation trickled down my throat before I knew it.
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The boy disappeared while my ocean eyes faded under the bright lights above. My head smashed against the white floor tiles, followed by nausea and dizziness. Within moments, Sam had me in his arms. He pulled me close to his chest, sobbing and crying my name.
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"James! James!" Sam screamed, his tears coating my lips. And I heard him cry my name about three times more, but whatever chemicals I ingested into my body paralyzed me. He yelled something at the boy, but I missed what he said as sounds grew muffled and my dizzying vision faded.
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The skinny flask fell from my tiny fingers, and my blue eyes failed to focus on Sam as I fell deeper into sleep. He tried to shake me to keep me awake, but I was too weak to twitch a muscle. My eyes fluttered, trying to stay conscious, but it was useless. My vision flickered in a haze, and soon after, there was darkness.
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Beeping monitors and loud noises reminded me we were still in a hospital. I looked below, and my stomach dropped as I tried to steady myself in the air.
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"How are you doing this?" Those were Sam's first words. He paced before me to avoid a panic attack, gnawing at his hangnails.
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"I-I don't know," I stumbled over my words. I had no clue. Like any hero with an origin story, I was surprised. Laugher escaped me, dumbfounded that I had defied gravity.
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Sam cursed under his breath and peered out of the curtains. Then he poked his head back inside and closed the curtain divider. "James, can you get yourself down from there?" he asked.
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"I can try," I replied with a deep exhale.
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My eyes slammed shut, and I concentrated on my breathing and the breeze brushing my face, focusing all my energy on counting to ten. Unaware of some of my surroundings floating in the air. I hurled out of the air and slammed hard against the bed. Uncle Sam groaned as the bed creaked and snapped, bending and smashing the center of the metal gurney, and objects around me slammed to the floor. We were lucky nobody was paying any attention to the loud thumping of the metal as it made an impact.
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My spine aligned with the back of the bed, clearing a spot for Sam. A deep divot of mesh metal sprung up from the mattress. Instead of fighting me, he wandered over to my bedside, sitting on the one part of the bed that was the least broken.
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Rubbing my back, he said, "You will not say a word about this to your brother, mother, or father when we get home," but I knew him better. "Your father is going to kill me." He toppled forward, his head resting against his hands, and sighed.
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I rubbed his back, soothing him as his fingertips glided through his dirty blonde roots from stress. I thought about telling the rest of my family about my new abilities, but I brushed the thought away when I realized Sam was right. It was something I couldn't tell anyone. At least not now, anyway.
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Soon after the incident, Sam became my mentor and a father figure for Derek and me, helping my dad with parenting, especially after my brother and I lost our mother. He assisted me with my superpowers after he left the government for good and started new research in our basement to one day cure me.
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Sam trained me to become the hero he knew I had the potential to become. It seemed he had done it for a year, given that he appeared to understand what he was doing. Something always told me there was a lot more Samual wasn't telling me. He would only tell me once he was ready, or at least when I was old enough to figure it out.
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