Chapter 11

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"I saw a story about me on tv the other day. They gave me the name 'Thunder'. Should I stick with it?"

"I like it," Caitlyn answers.

"I do, too," I agree. "I've also been thinking about putting a logo or something on my jacket."

"Like what? A lightning bolt?"

"Yeah, in the shape of a 'T'," I add.

Caitlyn kicks off the ground, pushing her swing forward. The two of us aren't alone at the park; a mother and three young children are off to the other side. A little girl giggles as she rides down a slide and two little boys chase each other in what appears to be a game of tag.

I take my backpack off, set it on the ground beside me, and push off the ground to get my swing moving. I'm not entirely sure why Caitlyn and I still come to the park like this; it's just tradition from when we were younger, I guess. It's also a good place to get away and just talk, because most of the time, no one else is here. When we were little, we always competed to see who could make their swing go higher, and just for the heck of it, we still play that game today.

Using a little bit of my super speed to kick against the ground, I make my swing fly higher than Caitlyn's after just a couple cycles of back and forth. I remember being young and pretending to fly every time I sat on a swing. It really doesn't compare to the actual feeling of flight; nothing compares to the incredible sensation of gravity seeming to not exist.

"Cheater!" Caitlyn says in fake anger.

I smirk at her. "What are you talking about? How does one cheat at swinging?"

"I don't know. Maybe by being struck by lightning."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Just admit you lost today."

"I will never admit defeat to a cheater!" Childishly, she sticks her tongue out at me. Both of us laugh and continue swinging.

The boys' game of tag has brought them out by the road. The mother is busy caring for the young girl who appears to have gotten a scrape on her knee. At the same instant, I see a vehicle driving clearly faster that the 25 mile per hour speed limit in this area.

The mother then notices the absense of her other children. "Thomas, Daniel?" She turns to find one boy all the way across the street and the other beginning to cross, but a blue car is heading straight towards the boy. "Thomas, no!" she screams.

My feet touch the ground, and I immediately speed out of the swing to rescue the child. I zoom to the other side of the park and out onto the road. Without slowing down, I scoop the boy up off the road and bring him to safety across the street. The car races by just a split second after. I run back and set the boy by his mother. Enough time hasn't passed yet for the mother to realize that her boy wasn't hit by the car, but as I zoom away before I'm seen, she sees the little child in front of her.

I swipe my bag from beside the swingset and run behind a building to throw my outfit on. Maybe 10 seconds later, I fly out into view, looking for the blue car. It's a couple blocks away, still speeding. I fly to the car, unsure of what exactly I'm going to do.

I land on the hood of the car, surprised that I managed to land without falling. I steady myself by placing my hands on the windshield. "Hey! Stop! You're going too fast. You nearly killed a little kid back there! Stop!!" I scream at the driver through the windshield.

The bald man at the wheel jumps at my sudden appearance in front of him, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he turns on the windshield wipers, trying to make me move. The blades hit my hands weakly and don't cause me to move an inch. I almost laugh at the pathetic attempt to get rid of me, but instead I keep shouting at him to stop.

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