The company hired me to capture Ricks for their science division. I got a sweet Goku Template and was shoved into Morty's body. It's been years since. Ever since, I've waited for my Rick to show up.
Tic!
"Dr. Wong, can I play with the blocks?"
"Morty, you can, but I need you to pay attention. Your mother said you're having trouble paying attention in class."
"The teacher speaks so slowly that my thoughts are a million miles away before she completes a sentence." Dr. Wong moved to get them, and I raised my hand. I've never been shy about what I can do. Ki wraps around the blocks, and they float over to me. Controlling multiple objects was fun it let my mind stretch and get exercise.
I form them in the air into towers, ships, and an arena. It wasn't enough. People assumed Morty Smith was an idiot but he had the same potential as Rick. His problem was distractions and confidence. I wasn't immune to those either.
The tiny Asian woman watched as the blocks moved faster until they blurred, taking on every construction I could imagine. Still, it wasn't enough; I didn't feel the orgasmic fulfillment I should have from exercising my ki.
"Are you still with me Morty?"
"Unfortunately, oh Jeez, that didn't come out right."
"What did you mean by that?"
"It's getting harder to concentrate on problems with all of my attention." The blocks moved faster as they went through another set of constructs. There was only so much I could do with 100 blocks. How much did she see? I wasn't sure.
The words entered my mind, I felt the vibrations of sound enter my ki sense, and I recorded them. But I wasn't listening. When seconds for normal people felt like eternities for me, it was difficult to relate to them; they stood still for too long, and it was only getting worse. My ADHD wasn't helping; I had trouble sitting still, and even video games took too long to load. I preferred to be out or doing something.
I reviewed the last dozen ticks of the clock; it was the best way to determine when she said what. It's why I kept a clock in my pocket; the ticks helped me count the seconds and keep up with what people said.
"Do you like to read? I find that helps me focus." It was one of the few pleasures I still had reading about heroes fighting villains it made my blood rush. Then I used image training to put myself in the driver's seat. Sometimes I lost and that made me want to fight the villains in my mind over and over until I managed to win. That could keep me entertained for weeks, writing battle plans, training, and making new techniques.
I reviewed the tics, and we were almost done. Then I remembered she asked a question, and I was approaching the tic that would make me rude.
"I enjoy it, but I've run out of material recently." Each word took eons to exit my mouth and flow across the room.
It was exhausting. "I can make some recommendations. Some good self-help books could help with your problem."
"It won't."
"You can't assume that. You only fail to get better when you no longer try."
"I'll give it a shot."
This life was exhausting. But I'm certain there was more to it.
"Have you thought about going back to school?"
"I already finished my coursework, and once I send it in, they'll give me my diploma." Mom insisted that if I wasn't going to school, then I needed to get my GED at least. So I finished it all in an hour, and all I was waiting on was the will to complete it. Then public school would be over for me. It was no challenge mentally or physically.
I made a personal bet with myself that if I couldn't complete it all within three hours, I would go back. Even slowing down and I couldn't fail. Losing on purpose wasn't in my genes.
"Maybe you should skip some grades instead and go to class with you sister. Do you think it's possible that experiencing high school with her will help?"
"Oh Jeez, she doesn't want her lame brother around."
"You shouldn't assume what she thinks. I want you to ask her before our next session and tell me the result."
The last second hit, and the session was over. I returned the blocks to their place and stood up and stretched. A part of me expected cracks from sitting in the same place for what felt like years. But my tendons were loose and ready to go as always.
I stared down at my muscled body. Training was what I did night and day—lifting heavy boulders, building mini houses with my construction set, and image training. Since there were no real threats on earth besides the occasional vampire or alien, I was bored most of the time.
Girls made me freeze up and get nervous. I think I freaked some of them out. Something about me threw them off. Then there were their bodies. I didn't want to lose control and splatter them. I could power down, but not low enough to not kill them. I clearly needed more ki control, but I clearly had a problem. An itch that I couldn't scratch.
Maybe it was all in my head, and Jessica would be ok.
"Dr. Wong, do you think I'm ok to date someone?"
"Oh, do you have someone in mind, Morty?"
"We went to school together, but she's popular, and I'm me."
I rubbed the back of my head. "I think you're a young man of great character dealing with power responsibly. If she can't see that, then maybe she isn't right for you."
"See you next session."
I left the office feeling a little lighter. When I looked up at the blue sky, filled with chirping birds, I couldn't help but fly up. My powers weren't exactly a secret; I didn't advertise either. When I landed, smoke poured out of the garage. A familiar spaceship had crashed through the garage door.
Check out my original work if you want to support me. Karma Maxing