Prove Them Wrong

Let me introduce myself. My name is Logan Adrian Robertson (that's first, middle, and last.) And I have powers like you wouldn't believe. I'm what people call ultrapathic, and unlike my two older siblings, Chris and Abigail, it wasn't because of brain strengthening crystals or devices. I was just born this way. I don't look quite like them, with my blonde hair, but we do have the same eyes. We're siblings, sure, but I it's like, some days, I don't even know them. They're always on missions, and they're so much older than I am, Abigail by fourteen years, Chris by sixteen years. Though to look at us, you wouldn't know, seeing as how they've been...de-aged. But back to me, here...

     So it was a Saturday, and I knew that Abigail and Chris would both be home today, and we'd go to church on Sunday as a family. Now was my chance to show them that I was responsible, and that I could handle my powers.

     Abigail was the first one to walk in, and after exchanging hellos and hugs with my parents, she smiled at me. "Hey, Logan, what's up?"

     Unlike everyone else on the Team, with the exception of Rachel, she's the only one who didn't treat me like someone much younger and therefore needed baby-talk.

     "The usual--school, chores, celebrity status," I kidded. Well, the celebrity status was mainly true, but it was because of my older siblings, not myself.

      She seemed to guess what I was thinking and frowned slightly. "That's too bad."

      I nodded slightly.

      She forced a smile, and then said, "Want to go make lunch? I'm starving."

      I grinned. "Yeah, me too. I missed you."

      "Yeah, I missed you too, buddy," she smiled as we headed into the kitchen. She pulled out some bread, canned chicken, celery, mayonnaise, and garlic salt to make chicken salad. "I still don't like it," she told me, "but I know it's your favorite."

     I nodded. "Yup."

     Together we mixed up some chicken salad, and then she focused me with that steady gaze of hers, perfected from years of battle and interrogating enemies.

     "Logan, what do you want from me?"

     I played confused. "What?"

     "I'm not stupid, Logan. You really want something. What is it?" she pried.

     "Abigail, I really want to be on the Team--I have the ability, and I'm the same age you were when you joined the Team. Please?" Then I played my trump card. "I'd get to spend more time with you guys. I'd actually have some real friends."

     And that's when Abigail said those words I still hear ringing in my ears every time I fail:

     "We're very busy right now, and we don't have the time to train you or fix the mistakes you'll make. I'm sorry, Logan."

     I let my eyes slide away from hers, the sinking feeling in my chest falling to my stomach. "I won't make mistakes!" I pleaded.

     "Yes, you will; everyone does. But we can't afford them when the stakes are so high. You are irresponsible with your abilities, and we cannot spare the time to train you to use them properly."

     She said it gently, like that was going to help, somehow. It didn't.

     I could feel tears stinging my eyes as I turned away from her, leaving the room. All I could think about was that they didn't want to take the time to teach me, to be there for me. No one did these days.

     I drew in a shuddering breath, steeling myself and standing up straight. Well, if they didn't think I was good enough...I'd show them. I would train until I dropped, if I had to do. But I would prove it. And eventually I'd make the Team.