Robert Snider

United States

Book Nerd. Theatre Geek. Word Dork.

Message to Readers

This is my Power of the Pen piece for this week. Could you guys give me comments? Thanks.

Heroes and Villains

October 20, 2015

PROMPT: Child Narrator

    “I’m gonna beat your stupid, mean, ugly face!” I shouted as I threw the ball far to the right of the hoop.
    “Airball!” teased the person with the stupid, mean, ugly face, also known as my older brother, as he quickly got the rebound and sank a perfect shot through the hoop.
    “Oh, yeah?” I shot back as my own throw went off again, this time far to the left.
    “You just can’t compete. You’re only seven,” the enemy said, giving me that look I've seen a bunch of adults give me, as his basketball yet again dropped perfectly into the hoop, this time for three points.
    “I’m almost eight. And you’re only ten,” I said as my next shot missed the rim again
    “Still, I’m three years older,” my brother said calmly, using his age superpower over me, as he sunk another shot, seemingly without trying.
    I went to take a shot, but he blocked it immediately, and stole the ball. I stomped my feet, and, getting no reaction, sat down on the ground. Superheroes like me were always supposed to beat the villains, like my brother, but here I was, losing 11-0.
    My brother took his next shot quickly, and it bounced off the rim! I jumped up speedily and ran after the ball. I grabbed it, and just as I was about to take the shot…
    “James?” shouted the worst supervillain of all time: Mom.
    “James, honey? I just found your toys all over the floor. I thought I told you to pick them up a while ago.” she said, using her secret weapon, the scary-calm voice.
    Oops. I meant to, but I got caught up in the basketball game
    I was just about to give a weak excuse when my older brother, in the best puppy dog voice there ever was, said, “I’m sorry mom. I asked James to come out here and play with me, and we got carried away. I didn’t know about the toys. I’m sorry.”
    Our mom tried to stay mad at us, but eventually she just gave a lame, “I could have tripped,” and walked away.
    I nodded to my former foe, and mumbled a thank you. My brother wrapped me up in a huge bear hug, and said, “You want some help with your shot?” Despite still not trusting him, I agreed, and he guided my arm on my next shot. It swished, going right through the net.
    I guess even superheroes need a sidekick sometimes.


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