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American Superhero

By: Samuelx



The year is 2078. In 2010, there was a terrible war. World War Three occurred. The powers of the Middle East, allied with Japan and China unleashed hell upon the United States of America, which had grown increasingly tyrannical over the ages. 

The Middle-Eastern Brotherhood, along with the Asian Coalition defeated the power of American soldiers. The U.S. was no longer a super power. The world had changed. Now, America was almost a third-world country. The new master of the universe was Japan, which emerged unscathed and infinitely powerful from the struggle.

There is something which the rest of humanity did not know. During World War Three, several of the world's nations tried to genetically engineer the perfect soldiers. Over a thousand of these genetically-enhanced men and women escaped from their creators, into the general population. Since then, the world has never been the same. Men and women with super powers walk the earth, and the rest of humanity hates and fears them, even six decades later.

Billy Grover walks through the halls of Amherst. The young man seems deep in thought, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Anyone looking at him would have seen an ordinary youngster, but the person looking at him was someone very much like himself, someone who was different from the rest of humanity, his old buddy Alison Gray. 

Billy is a college student attending the University of Massachusetts. He's a young black man who is very much interested in becoming a police officer someday. His father, James Grover is a sergeant with the Boston police department. His mother, Eleanor Brown Grover is a corrections officer down in Plymouth County jail. As you can see, law enforcement runs in the family. Young Billy Grover intends to follow in his parents footsteps. That's why he majors in Criminal Justice down at the U.

Billy Grover has always been the studious type. In high school, he won himself an Academic scholarship, thanks to his high test scores on the MCAS Exam. He is new to the Amherst campus. The place is really nice and he loves it. It's so different from Plymouth, the small town where he grew up. He comes to the city as a youngster full of hope and dreams. His goals are set. He wants to get a Bachelors degree in Criminal Justice at Amherst before heading to the Massachusetts State Police Academy at New Braintree to become a State Trooper.

This guy has his entire future all planned out. At Amherst, he runs into some rather familiar faces. One of them is Alison Gray, his high school buddy. How to describe Alison Gray? She's a five-foot-ten, self-described 'funny but funky' girl with dark brown skin and short hair bleached white as bone. This somewhat thick and curvy beauty hails from Plymouth and attends Amherst on a basketball scholarship.

Alison Gray comes from a rather impressive background. Her father, Zeke Gray once played for the New England Patriots football team. He is currently the athletic director at Boston University. Her mother, Jessica Almond Gray is a former Olympic athlete who went into the world of politics where she made a name for herself. Jessica Almond Gray is a member of Congress. Alison Gray loves both of her parents and although they try to shield her from the world, they really should not bother.

Alison Gray is different from other gals, you see. At the age of eighteen, Alison Gray could run a distance of twenty five hundred miles in less than one hour. How is that possible? Alison Gray is a super human. Yes, super humans do exist. Men and women who are genetically different from the rest of humanity. It's not quite like in the comic books. Today's super humans were hated and feared. The police would shoot to kill any super human spotted in public using his or her super powers.

Alison Gray, the fastest woman in the world, didn't care about the rules. She could run so fast that she could become almost invisible to the naked eye. Faster than a speeding bullet. Her powers were something she kept secret, even from the parents who adopted her and gave her a loving home. The only person who knew about her was her best friend Billy Grover.

Alison smiled as she spotted Billy Grover walking through the halls of Amherst. Even though he was such a cute guy, he never seemed to have a girlfriend. Also, he was always studying. He was actually the valedictorian of their high school, back at Plymouth high. Yeah, the dude was brilliant. Alison knew there was more to the academically gifted stud than met the eye. For starters, he was a superhuman, just like her.

Alison had seen Billy in action before. The six-foot-two, 230-pound black stud could lift up to five thousand pounds when he really wanted to push himself. His body was almost indestructible. One day, while they were walking together, There was a major traffic jam. Some crazy woman drove into a man's car in a fit of road rage. Before long, cars were flying. Alison and Billy were walking home from school.

A Mercedes flew at them, hurled by a Mack Truck. Inside the Mercedes was a man and his family. Billy reacted faster than Alison would have thought him capable of. He caught the flying Mercedes before it could go off the road and into the lake. This young man caught a car like it was a toy and put it down. Alison quickly whisked him away. That's when the two best friends revealed their secrets to each other. They had been pals forever but Alison never would have suspected Mister Nice Guy Billy Grover of being a genetic superhuman like herself!

Since that day, they were inseparable. Alison learned that both of Billy's parents knew their adopted son was a super human and they were okay with that. They accepted him just the way he was. Alison's powers only manifested themselves after her eighteenth birthday, halfway through her last year of high school. Billy's powers had developed a bit earlier. He was so different from her. Alison had the Gift of Speed. Her sole power was the ability to move at superhuman speeds. Her buddy, though, was something else.

Billy had a whole set of powers. He was incredibly strong, and could lift up to five thousand pounds when he wished to. He could also run quickly, though not as fast as Alison. He could run at a top speed of two hundred and forty miles per hour. Her speed more than doubled his, any day of the week. What he lacked in speed he made up for in other areas. Alison had seen Billy get hit by a truck and even walk through a burning building without suffering any injuries. His body was invulnerable, there was no other explanation.

Alison smiled as she recalled all of those memories. Yes, she and Billy had known each other for awhile. They were good pals but had very different worldviews. Alison wanted to meet other super humans and join forces to end the government-sanctioned discrimination they faced. Super humans were seen in pretty much the same way early twenty-first-century Arab terrorists had been treated by the American public. Most Americans felt that the only good superhuman was a dead superhuman.

"Hey, Billy," said Alison. " Where are you going, buddy?"

Billy turned around. He looked at her, and smiled. " Hey, Alison. How are you doing? I didn't notice you were there."

Alison grinned. " What, you were too busy checking out white broads to notice a fine sister walk by?"

Billy scratched his head. Alison smiled wickedly. She loved seeing him blush. That's Billy for you. Mister Nice Guy, the original super polite geek of the week.

- " So, what are you doing later?" Alison asked. "After classes today, I mean."

Billy shrugged. " I thought I could go home and chill a little bit, maybe call up a few friends and see what's up."

Alison groaned. Billy had this habit of spending way too much time at home. If he wasn't studying hard, he was either reading a book for the fun of it or Talking on the phone with his relatives across the country. He kept in touch with his cousin Ivan, a native of New York attending NYU and his other cousin Vanessa, a native of the Bronx who worked as a police officer in that same town.

"Dude, come on. It's Friday night and you're going to stay home?" Alison exclaimed. "You're eighteen, man. You're young. You've got to enjoy life."

Billy looked her up and down. " What did you have in mind, Alison?"

Alison grinned. " I was thinking we could head to Boston, hit the clubs and party, you know?"

Billy rubbed his thumb and index finger together, and raised his eyebrows.

"You inherited a lot of cash I don't know about?"

Alison grinned. In the time that it took Billy Grover to blink, she took off at super speed. She ran through campus, and went to the outlying town of Amherst. At the bank, she saw a robbery in progress. As the terrified bank employee, a nervous young man, handed the cash to the robbers, a masked man and woman dressed in black, Alison snatched the cash and zapped back to Amherst.

While on her way back to the school, where Billy had yet to finish blinking, Alison had counted the money she had 'acquired' from the bank thieves, a total of five thousand dollars. Smiling, she went back to standing in front of Billy Grover. The tall young academic looked at her, still waiting for an answer to the question he asked an eye blink ago.

"Yeah, I've got some green," Alison said. " In fact, I want us to go hang out in Boston, since Amherst is so boring. Come on, dude. My treat."

Billy Grover stared at her. " Uh, I don't know about that."

Alison looked at him. Billy was so cute but could be so stubborn sometimes, plus he lacked imagination and played by the rules too often. He needed someone like her to spice up his existence.

Alison snatched Billy's necklace from his neck. It was the silver wolf's head necklace given to him by his deceased grandfather. It meant a lot to him. He stared at her, and crossed his arm.

"Give it back, Alison," he said calmly. " I'm not playing with you." Alison smiled at him. 

" I will give it back to you, but under one condition. Catch me if you can."

With that, the girl with the Gift of Speed took off at super speed. Groaning in frustration, Billy followed her. Alison ran through the town of Amherst, with Billy in close pursuit. Laughing, she ran faster and faster, though not at full speed. Then, she hit the highway. Once there, she raced through the roads, heading south, toward Boston and its glittering lights.

Finally, Alison found herself in downtown Boston, standing in front of the historic Loews movie theater. The centuries-old establishment still looked good, overlooking Boston Common. Yeah, her favorite city still looked pretty good to her. A couple of minutes after she got to the city, an angry-looking Billy arrived, hot on her trail.

"Hand me back my grandfather's medallion!" He said. " Now!"

Alison hesitated. She had never seen Billy this angry. He had always been the quiet, soft-spoken one. It was not like him to raise his voice. She feared that she had really pushed it this time.

"I'm sorry," she said, handing him the medallion. " I just wanted us to have some fun, you know?"

Billy took the necklace and put it back around his neck. He looked at her, and shook his head. His handsome face was a mask of anger. Yeah, apparently she had pushed him too far.

"We're done!" Billy said, then he took off at super speed, too fast for ordinary men and women to see, leaving her standing in front of the movie theater by herself.

"All I wanted was for us to have some fun together Billy," Alison said, mostly to herself. " I never wanted to hurt you, babe. I love you too much for that." Billy Grover went home. He ran at full speed and arrived in Plymouth exactly five minutes after he left Boston. His parents were still at work. He couldn't believe what Alison had done. Made him go all the way to Boston to retrieve his necklace, which she had taken from him. She had always been goofy but now he was fed up with her. Possibly for good. She had pulled pranks before but seriously, this was the last straw. Yeah, he was done with her. The fact that they were pals didn't give her the right to do what she did.

Billy lay in his bed, looking at the ceilings. At times like these, he felt rather lonely. He thought about his origins. Where did he come from? What were his birth parents really like? How did he get his powers? what was his purpose in this world? How many others like him were out there? The only thing he knew about super humans was what the news told him, and they weren't exactly kind.

The general American public felt that super humans were dangerous and a threat to the general public. That's why the head of the Homeland Security Bureau worked closely with law enforcement agencies nationwide, along with the National Guard, coordinating their efforts together in a hunt for the super humans. Yeah, America wasn't a safe place in which to be different right now. 

Billy went behind his computer, and looked up stuff on the Internet. He logged on as Super Black Guy into his favorite chat room, and started talking to some of his favorite people. One of them was this controversial character named SuperGirlsDigButtSex2078. Yeah, you read right.

-"So, how are you doing tonight?" Super Black Guy asked SuperGirlsDigButtSex2078.

SuperGirlsDigButtSex2078 replied : "My night sucks, dude, and not in a good way. A cute boy I kind of like just ditched me."

Super Black Guy was rather sympathetic. " Don't sweat it, lady. Plenty of super studs out there for a cutie like you to meet."

They continued to talk for a few minutes. Billy liked talking to this chick, she was pretty cool. They'd been chatting online for about a year now, every night. Tonight, he felt rather bold. So, he asked her if they could exchange sexy pictures. This online talker had a very kinky mind and he was dying to know what she looked like.

They sent each others sexy pictures simultaneously. Billy could not believe what h saw when the image appeared on his computer screen. SuperGirlsDigButtSex2078 Looked amazingly like his friend/annoyance Alison!

Nearby, in Plymouth, Alison looked at the picture of the man she had been talking to for quite some time. What she saw amazed her. Super Black Guy, the coolest and most open-minded user in the online forum looked exactly like her best friend ( who was currently mad at her) Billy Grover!

"What the fuck!" Alison exclaimed. She looked at the email again and again. Yeah, this was Billy's image alright, unless he had a twin he never told her about.

Billy stared at his screen. He whipped out his cell phone and dialed Alison's number. She picked up on the first ring. He hesitated, then braced himself for the question. She beat him to it.

"Billy, am I on your screen right now?" She asked. " Are you Super Black Guy?"

Billy winced. Oh, no! " Alison, are you SuperGirlsDigButtSex2078?"

Alison didn't hesitate. She confirmed his worst fears. Billy sat down, crestfallen. Oh, damn! He couldn't believe it! He had been chatting with Alison online for over a year without knowing it and now, what?

"Well, small world," Alison said. " I'm sorry for what I did earlier. I'm a goofball, you know. Sorry for that."

Billy took a deep breath. " You're forgiven, Alison. Although, if you ever take my necklace again, I'll wring your neck."

Alison laughed. " So we're cool, then?"

The gal felt like jumping for joy. Finally, they were okay again. Now what? Maybe she should come over and hang out. Yeah, that would be something. Or was this too soon since their argument? She didn't want to blow it twice in the same day.

"Come over, Alison," Billy said in his deep, masculine voice. 

Those were the words that Alison, tomboy extraordinaire and queen of all pranksters and super thief was waiting to hear. In the blink of an eye, she showed up at Billy's house, which thankfully was empty, except for him. She found the super stud in his bedroom, wearing shorts.

"Hello, there," Alison said. " Wow, dude. You look good."

Billy stared at her. Alison. His Alison. The annoying, beautiful and outgoing tomboy whom he couldn't do without. There were days when he wanted to wring her neck, but most of the time, he felt happy to have her in his life. Alison stood there smiling, wearing a T-shirt and some very short, well, shorts.

"You're not so bad yourself," Billy said. " Even in the middle of the night."

Alison sat on the edge of his bed. There was so much that she wanted to say. But Billy didn't let her talk. He pulled her into his arms, arms that might be capable of moving mountains someday, and embraced her. Alison hugged him with all of her might, and kissed him.

"I know I can be a pain sometimes, but I love you, dude, " Alison said softly. "You mean more to me than anything else in the world."

Billy smiled and licked the tip of her nose. " Alison, you're abrasive, opinionated and impulsive, and you get on my nerves, but I love you."

The two best friends smiled and kissed again. Slowly, they undressed one another. Billy looked at Alison. Alison looked at Billy. Tenderly, they caressed each other's bodies. After playing together countless times, they knew each other's bodies. Now, they were about to know each other even more. As lovers. 

Alison kissed every inch of Billy's fine, masculine body. He returned the favor by suckling on her breasts, caressing her neck and running his hands all over her body, and cupping her buttocks in his hands. Yeah, he was a black man. He liked his woman's fine booty.

Alison licked Billy's ear. " You like my booty, huh?"

Billy smiled. "You are fine, girl. I've wanted you for a long time, I just didn't...you know, know how to tell you."

Alison grinned. " I want you too, Billy. I always have. Now, I have you to myself."

Slowly, passionately, they began to make love. Alison lowered herself onto Billy's manhood and he entered her with one firm, swift thrust. A groan escaped her lips as their bodies joined. He was within her, and their bodies fused together passionately. He thrust into her, driven by a need, a desire to possess. Alison responded to his passion, and welcomed him inside her. She craved him, always had, and couldn't get enough. They made passionate love until their titanic bodies were exhausted, which was way beyond what normal humans were capable of.

When police sergeant James Grover and his wife, officer Eleanor Grover of the Department of Corrections came home, they checked on their son, as they always did. Even though he was the strongest man in the world, in their eyes, he was still their offspring and they worried about him, just like ordinary parents did. When they checked into his room, what they saw amazed them.

Their son Billy Grover was in bed with his best friend Alison, the tomboy next door. Their bodies were entwined in a lover's embrace, and they were fast asleep. James Grover and his wife Eleanor smiled. The sight of their son and his lady friend reminded them of themselves back in the old days. Eleanor was especially pleased. In today's anti-super human times, she worried about her son ever finding love since no one could accept him. Now, he seemed to have found someone just like him. Someone both of his parents knew and more or less accepted. Praise the Lord, their son finally had a girlfriend! 

American Superhero In L.A.



If you think you have a complicated life, you should really walk a mile in my shoes. A lot of people say that. I actually mean it. My name is Ramon Hamilton Costa. I was born in the City of Los Angeles, California. The son of a Spanish immigrant father and African-American mother. My father Ernesto Costa died shortly before my birth, leaving my mother Theresa Hamilton to raise me by herself. Single motherhood is never easy, and in the continent of North America it can be pure hell. In spite of all these difficulties, I turned out just fine. My mother is a graduate of Spelman College in the City of Atlanta, Georgia, and she holds an M.D. from Howard University in Washington D.C. She encouraged me to focus on education, which she saw as a pathway to a better life. Mom was right. At the age of twenty seven I have a Master's degree in Sociology from the University of California at Santa Barbara. These days, I work for the Los Angeles Social Services Department as a special counselor for at-risk youth. There are lots of them in the greater Los Angeles area and I do my best to help the ones who come my way.

Anyhow, that's my day job. At night, my life is a bit more complicated. You see, my mother Theresa Hamilton is descended from the legendary Amazons of Dahomey, a nearly mythical race of Warrior Women from the African nation of Benin. Their legendary battle prowess astonished European invaders in the latter days of the 1800s. According to my grandfather Henry Hamilton, these ladies were among the world's best warriors. I love my grandpa. He made sure I knew my African-American heritage. Even though I seem like a biracial man with my light brown skin, curly Black hair and light brown eyes, I identify as purely African-American. Just like U.S. President Barack Obama. I'm just a tall, well-dressed brother who's a little lighter than average, just like the leader of the free world. Just a private joke on my part. Although my responsibilities are manifold, I'm not a world leader. But I am a leader.

At an early age I became aware of the fact that I was different. And not just because I was a mixed guy growing up in the Ladera area, a predominantly African-American middle-class neighborhood of metropolitan Los Angeles. I could see things that nobody else could see. For example, I remember how one day, my old neighbor James Cantwell died. He was a really nice old Black guy in his early seventies. The guy taught me how to play baseball. He was good friends with my grandfather Henry Hamilton. In fact, they met as students at Morehouse College in the City of Atlanta, Georgia, a long time ago. My grandfather went on to become a civil engineer after participating in the civil rights movement. Mr. Cantwell became one of the first African-American police officers in Los Angeles after the end of legal segregation based on race in the United States of America. He retired from the Los Angeles Police Department after an exemplary career spanning nearly three decades. Like my own grandfather, he was a father figure to me and a great role model. I am good friends with Cantwell's son Matthew, who works as a corrections officer in Santa Barbara, where he lives with his Puerto Rican wife Lola. Mr. Cantwell's death rattled me to the core. I loved the old guy to death and with the innocence of youth, I thought he would live forever.

I mourned his passing, as did the whole neighborhood. He was so lively and energetic. How could he die of a heart attack in his sleep? I refused to accept it. However, it was the grim reality. Or so I thought until the Ghost of Mr. Cantwell appeared to me during gym class three days after his death. I stared at the old man's ghost, stunned. Mr. Cantwell's ghost smiled at me and greeted me politely. I started screaming and basically had a fit before passing out. I was taken to the hospital, which sent me home. My mother was extremely worried, as you can imagine. When I told her about Mr. Cantwell's ghost, she told me that I must have been hallucinating. She dismissed my rants about my old neighbor's ghosts as the wild imaginings of a grief-stricken young man. I thought she was right, I almost believed her explanations...until Mr. Cantwell appeared to me again the following night. He told me that he'd been murdered, and that it was up to me to expose his murderer. This time, I didn't tell anyone about what I had seen or what he told me. Instead, I promised him solemnly that I would investigate his death. The old man's ghost smiled at me sadly. He told me that he hated being a ghost and longed to move onto the afterlife, to be with his wife Debra who died many years before. I wanted to help the old man, and so I did.

I went into his old house, where I ran into his son Matthew. The grief-stricken Matthew was a pitiful sight. The tall, brawny young African-American guy I grew up worshiping because of his friendly nature and athletic prowess was a shell of his former self. Losing both parents before he reached twenty was tough on him. He was studying Criminal Justice while attending the University of California at Los Angeles on an athletic scholarship for football. Matthew Cantwell aspired to be a police officer just like his dad. In later years, he would switch careers but that was a while from now. I tried to comfort him as best I could. Matthew and I sat in the dark, talking. He told me about his life at UCLA and how much he loved playing football for the flagship school of the University of California system. He showed me pictures of Cindy, a sexy Jamaican gal he was dating. I nodded appreciatively. She was a pretty lady. Although I seldom discussed my sexual feelings with anyone in those days, in later years I would come to the conclusion that I was bisexual. Sexually and emotionally attracted to both women and men. I found Matthew really handsome, but I didn't tell Matthew this, of course. He seemed straight as an arrow and there was no way he'd handle my revelation too well. Anyhow, while we talked, Matthew told me about Gordon Everett, the real estate agent who kept pressuring his father to sell the house. The Cantwell household had been in the family for generations. It once belonged to Matthew's grandmother, Mr. Cantwell's mother. 

Anyhow, the persistent real estate agent was the only clue I had. So I began investigating him. I learned a lot about realtor Gordon Everett. According to many African-Americans living in Los Angeles, he was a really shady character and a proponent of gentrification. He pressured Black folks to sell their houses and sold them to affluent Irish, Italian and Dutch folks. He was white-washing much of Los Angeles all by himself. Mr. Cantwell was one of a few African-American home owners who told him no. In fact, I found out that Mr. Cantwell was suing Gordon Everett at the time of his death. Okay. I knew the rich white guy was shady but I couldn't prove he had anything to do with Mr. Cantwell's not so natural death. Frustrated, I turned to my grandfather for help. Grandpa surprised me by telling me he knew what I was up to. He told me that many people in our family had exceptional gifts. Some could interact with supernatural forces. Others could glimpse other worlds. And some could do even more extraordinary things. To demonstrate, Grandpa Hank looked at a bottle on his kitchen counter and made it fly to his hand, crossing a distance of ten feet on its own through levitation. I stared at the old man, astonished. Grandpa told me he possessed telekinesis, the ability to move objects with his mind.

According to him, our family was descended from the legendary Amazons of Dahomey. Fierce warrior women among whom the ancient African deities who lorded over the great Kingdom of Dahomey ( modern-day Republic of Benin) often selected their mortal brides and concubines. Supernatural blood flowed through the veins of men and women of the Hamilton family. I asked Grandpa if my mother had powers too. He told me mom denied her supernatural heritage a long time ago and embraced the secular world, but yes, she did possess a power. Grandpa told me my mother could heal people, and even animals, with a simple touch. I was really surprised to hear that. In hindsight, it made perfect sense. My mother is one of the best surgeons at the Saint Vincent Medical Center, the oldest hospital in Los Angeles. Sometimes, her ability to heal people did surprise me growing up. In hindsight, a lot of things made sense. I had two dogs growing up, a pair of Dobermans named Lucky and Marquis. My mom and I loved those dogs. We raised them the natural way, meaning we didn't believe in unseemly practices like neutering or docking. One day, Lucky got hit by a car. I cradled his dying body in my arms and went to my mother in tears. Mom took him in her arms, and told me not to worry. The next day, Lucky was miraculously healed. At the time, I didn't even question what my mother did. I was so happy that my dog was alright again. Little did I know that my mom effectively brought him back to life!

Armed with the knowledge that my grandfather Henry Hamilton passed onto me, I grew more confident in my supernatural abilities. I soon found out that seeing ghosts wasn't my only ability. I could do other things as well. While investigating Gordon the realtor, I snuck into his house. I found a box containing some suspicious pills. I found out they were a form of performance enhancing drug which could be lethal to folks with a heart condition but basically harmless to healthy young guys. I called the police, and they came to investigate. A case was officially opened, and an autopsy was performed on Mr. Cantwell. I told the old man's ghost how sorry I felt that they were digging up his grave but he told me he didn't mind. The autopsy revealed the presence of the performance enhancing drug in the old man's body, which had been dead only seven days. Gordon the realtor was led away in handcuffs. As for me, I had my picture plastered all over the Los Angeles Times. I was the young man who solved a murder case all by himself. And I was barely a senior in High School! 

My mother, grandfather and I had a long talk the night after I basically solved the case. My mother told me she was hoping I wouldn't inherit any of the family super powers. Grandpa Hank scoffed at that, saying that my powers were part of my heritage. My mother Theresa Hamilton looked me in the eyes and tried to hold back tears. She told me she felt having super powers was a curse. Even though she used hers to help people. I looked my mother straight in the eyes and told her my powers were a blessing. And I endeavored to use them to help people. My grandfather looked at me proudly, and told me I was officially a man. My mother offered me a sad smile, and kissed me on the cheek. Then she went to her room and we never talked about my having super powers again. Later that night, Mr. Cantwell's ghost appeared to me. And he wasn't alone. There as an old Black lady's ghost with him. I smiled at them both. Mr. Cantwell thanked me for allowing his spirit to move onto the afterlife. At long last he was reunited with his darling wife Debra. I nodded gravely, and told him I was happy for them both. They smiled and vanished in an explosion of blinding white light. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face. Not bad for a week's worth of work, eh? 

That was almost a decade ago. In the years that followed, my grandfather taught me how to hone my powers. I discovered I could do other things like walking through walls, and I could become invisible. My mind and body were attuned to both the supernatural world and the normal world. Thus, I could break the laws of nature. I mastered my powers. I enrolled at the University of California at Santa Barbara. I reconnected with my old buddy Matthew, Mr. Cantwell's son, who relocated to Santa Barbara after graduating from the University of California at Los Angeles. I also explored other aspects of my life and personality. At UC-Santa Barbara, I met a tall, handsome young African-American man named Theodore Morrison. He was a transfer from Lincoln University, the prestigious African-American school. Theodore played soccer for UC-Santa Barbara, and he had a pretty Hispanic girlfriend named Maria Mendoza. Yet he was destined to become my first male lover. Like me, Theodore was bisexual. Unlike me, he had explored his sexuality thoroughly. I was still a virgin at nineteen when we met. Theodore introduced me to a world of passion. We saw each other discreetly for sessions of passionate lovemaking. I really cared about him, but he just wanted casual sex. We broke it off after six months. Six really passionate months during which I felt alive like never before.

After Theodore ditched me, I focused on my academic work. I also discreetly solved a few murder cases and foiled a few major crimes using my supernatural abilities. I was the police's anonymous, invisible helper. I was happy that I was doing really well academically and I found fulfillment while using my powers to fight the good fight. However, there was a void in my life. One day, I met a young woman I simply couldn't forget. A six-foot-tall, curvy and big-bottomed, deliciously dark-skinned young Black woman with neatly braided long Black hair. Amelia Thurgood. Daughter of Alabama State Police sergeant Amos Thurgood. A civil engineering student at the University of California at Santa Barbara. I was smitten with her from the moment we bumped into each other inside the campus library. My whole life, I've felt attracted to Black girls but for the most part I felt them cold. I was a mixed guy with a Black mother and white father. I never knew my dad. Yet because my highly educated mother sent me to a mostly white private school, I talked 'white' according to most African-Americans I met. On top of that, I played hockey and baseball in high school. I was a pretty good golfer. And I made friends more easily with white guys and white gals than African-Americans even though I lived in a mostly Black, middle-class neighborhood. To the Black women I met, I wasn't Black enough.

Also, my mother Theresa Hamilton wasn't a fan of today's young Black women. She often told me terrible tales of promising young Black men who lost it all because they had an abusive mother, a controlling girlfriend, or shady lady friends. Although she's African-American, my mother doesn't think much of Black women. Mom has mostly white female friends. These days, she dates a middle-aged Asian-American lawyer named Anderson Chang. He's twice divorced, and has two sons with an Ethiopian-American woman who lives in Berkeley. My mother is not fond of Black men or Black women. She always encouraged me to date white girls while I was in school. My last relationship with a young white woman, Annabelle Windsor, didn't end too well. My tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed Irish-American girlfriend broke off our relationship because she didn't want to marry me, even though she mainly dated Black men and Hispanic guys while at University. Wow. It seems I wasn't white enough for white society and I wasn't Black enough for my fellow African-Americans. What was I supposed to do?

To say that I had issues when I met Amelia Thurgood would be an understatement. I had more baggage than an international airport. I was a neurotic, biracial guy with a Black mother who hated her own race. I'm also a guy who happens to have identity issues due to both bisexual feelings and the possession of super powers. No, I'm not insane. I'm just...different. Talk about baggage! Amelia seemed to take a liking to me, and we began seeing each other. I quickly learned that she was as different as can be from the young Black women my mom warned me about. Amelia attended Tuskegee University in the City of Tuskegee, Alabama, where she pledged the legendary Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority before transferring to the University of California at Santa Barbara. 

The gal was vivacious, and totally lovely. I learned that she had been a cheerleader both in high school and college. Hmm. A sexy Black cheerleader. Wow. Amelia was proud of herself as an African-American college woman living in the Age of Obama. Amelia told me that although she dated white guys, Asian guys and Hispanic guys in the past, she wanted to share her life with an educated Black man who would appreciate her. Just like her father appreciated her mother, Tuskegee catholic schoolteacher Nicole Kendrick Thurgood. Amelia came from an intact, loving household made up of hard-working African-Americans. She was so lucky. Amelia told me how much she admired strong Black women like Oprah Winfrey, Michelle Obama and Serena Williams. One time, while hanging out at a café on campus, I sheepishly told Amelia I had a slight crush on Serena Williams, whom she kind of resembled. Only Amelia was hotter than Serena Williams in my eyes, with a bigger booty too. Amelia grinned and kissed me on the lips. It was our first kiss.

After that, I officially asked her out. We dated for about six months before she began pressuring me for a more intimate relationship. I was really nervous. The time had come for me to tell this young Black woman I cared about the hidden truths about me. I told her about my family issues. Dead white dad. Racially insensitive Black mother. Adoring grandfather. Oh, and I'm bisexual, to boot. That cause her eyebrows to raise. I promptly told her that I'd only been with one guy and he was a sad disappointment. I definitely preferred women emotionally and sexually. Amelia stared at me without saying anything for about a minute. My heart thundered in my chest. What was she thinking? It's in times like these that I wished I could read minds. Amelia pursed her lips, and I knew she was about to say something. I sat there, trying not to fidget. What would her answer be? Would she dump me? Amelia did the last thing I expected, even with all my brilliance. My sexy African-American goddess leaned over and kissed me. Then she whispered into my ear that she was bisexual too. I thanked heaven for its blessings as I shared a passionate kiss with the young woman who would eventually become my darling wife. 

That's it for me, folks. I hope you enjoyed this story. I love my life and I love my wife. I still haven't had the conversation with my Amelia about my super powers. Then again, maybe I won't have to. Lately, I haven't been able to walk through walls. I still see ghosts from time to time. I told my grandfather about this and Grandpa Hank told me that in some blood lines, the super powers did a slow but steady fade out over time. Maybe it was my long-dead biological father's purely human DNA countering the divine blood I inherited from my ancestors, the legendary Amazons of Dahomey, who consorted with ancient African Gods in the Republic of Benin in the old days. I don't know. And honestly, I don't care. Even if my powers vanish entirely over the next few years, I'm glad I got to have them. I helped a lot of people, from all walks of life and all ethnic backgrounds. I helped many restless spirits find their eternal rest and put them at peace. Yeah, I've done some good. Besides, maybe it's a good thing my powers are fading. I'm about to embark on an adventure even scarier than having super powers. My Amelia told me last night that she's pregnant. I'm going to be a dad! Honestly, I can't wait. I'm buying two cans of paint, one blue and one pink. Just so I'm ready whatever the case may be when our brat comes into the world. I love my Amelia. And I solemnly pledge to be there for her and our unborn brat for many years to come.