Powerless Revision 1

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Authors: Jason Letts
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down. Instead, her body began to fall forward and for a second she floated above the ground. Once her body had been completely swept into horizontal motion, Vern lowered his hand and let Mira’s body drop to the ground. She fell flat on her face.
    She looked up just in time to see Vern scoop up the ball and jog it back to his goal. The reality of what happened made her wince. In vain, Mira closed her eyes to block it out, but the sound of the cheering and hollering students snuck into her head. She grabbed at the grass and tore it out. She wanted to scream into the dirt, but instead she got up and started running away. Within moments she had left them behind completely.
    ***
    Vern had a smile on his face as he rejoined the other students. He threw the ball out near the center of the field for the next match, and sat down assuming a relaxed and comfortable posture, as though he were at the beach.
    “You idiot! Why didn’t you just attract the ball?” Aoi shouted, snapping him out of his effervescent arrogance. But Vern complacently lounged on the forest floor, paying little attention to the other students’ matches or to the people around him. He rolled through his next match as easily as he did his first, quickly returning to his spot by the tree while it was still warm. He nodded off for a minute, justifying the snooze in his mind with the belief that it exuded confidence if he appeared relaxed. Aoi once again had the pleasure of stomping on his leisure.
    “Get off your butt! You’ve gotta go against Roselyn now,” she laughed. A sour and disappointed frown immediately formed on Vern’s face. This wouldn’t be fun at all. Getting up and walking onto the field felt more like removing a splinter than an exciting competition.
    He gazed at the flower with the blonde curls standing at the other end of the field. Roselyn had the same relaxed appearance, mixed with just a hint of timidity.
    She called out to him after she noticed his spiteful glance. “I’m sorry for what I’m going to do to you. I promise I’ll make it better after,” she said.
    Vern tried to numb himself to what was coming. It put a bad taste in his mouth and he cringed. “Yeah, just do what you gotta do.”
    He posed with one foot forward, ready for action, while Roselyn stood flat-footed with her hands together. Fortst dropped his arm to signal the start of the match.
    As soon as Vern took off, Roselyn opened her mouth and began to sing three rising notes. Vern reached for the ball, which left the ground and rapidly began moving in his direction. But he struggled to bring his hands up to catch the ball. He just didn’t have the energy to do it.
    Roselyn’s three notes, hanging and swooning in the air, repeated over and over again. Holding the ball, all he had to do was turn and toss it into his goal, but that seemed so hard. It lay just a few feet away.
    An overwhelming sadness swept over him. He didn’t care about the competition anymore. It just didn’t matter now. He held the ball loosely in his hands, but he couldn’t think about anything except the big empty world and his purposeless life. This miserable feeling made him wonder if this were all a terrible waste of time. He should just quit.
      “Give me the ball,” Roselyn said. She appeared a foot away from Vern, and reached out to take the ball. From the break in her singing, Vern felt his intractable apathy give way to the slightest emotion, the mildest impulse. Mustering himself in the most minimal way, he dropped his arm back and let the ball roll out onto the ground behind him.
    He felt worthless and regretful, and he began apologizing to Roselyn. She watched the ball roll behind him and stop just inside his goal. Shifting her attention back to Vern, she again sang her notes. The life returned to his face and soon he felt normal again, like nothing had happened.
    “Congratulations,” she said, showing no emotion over the result. She quietly walked off the field. Expelling a

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