I don’t know when I first discovered I could freeze time. The first time I remember was when I was eight. My Pops was long since gone at that point, and Mum took up with this freak named Edward. He always had that look in his eye, the one that reminded you of a lion stalking its prey, moving slowly, but surely towards it.

My main concerns, at the time, were whether I could draw with the green crayon or the blue one, and it was quite a surprise when, one day, I looked up to see him staring at me with that eerie gaze.

“Where’s your Mummy, sweetie?” he purred, the eerie look on his face contrasting with his silky-smooth voice.

“I don’t know,” I replied dismissively, immediately reverting my attention back to my drawings. Looking back, I can see that she didn’t want to be there when he went for the ‘kill’, so to speak.

“Now that’s not nice. You should show more respect.” He kicked me at that, and I literally flew into the cupboard door, like a football at kick-off.

That was the first, and last, time I felt fear.

He advanced on me, face drawn with pleasure. If this was what he got off on, he must have the world’s cruellest handicap.

“Well, let’s see how you like this-” he started. I suddenly felt like I was on fire, the heat burning through my body into my tiny heart, and Edward stopped. Not just stopped, he froze.

I stood up shakily, after a minute of staring in disbelief, and ran. I didn’t quite realize what this all meant at the time, but who can blame me? I was eight for god’s sake. I just wanted out.

I ran until I was in a part of the city even my Mum wouldn’t dare go into. At this point, I’d already frozen time a few times, mostly uncontrollably. It took weeks for the powers to settle down, but once they did, the sky was the limit.

I initially just shoplifted to get what I wanted. Don’t worry, when I hit my teenager years, I didn’t do anything while people were frozen. Otherwise I wouldn’t be the hero of this story, would I? One day, though, I realized my true calling: Casino betting.

I could win anything I wanted, and soon I even had a nickname: ‘The Robber Baron’. Well, it is better to be feared than loved. At least, that’s how I rationalize being banned from every casino in the western hemisphere.

I never saw my mother again after I left. I know I should hate her, but to be honest I’d rather just forget about that part. Where I should see flame, I only see an empty cold room, devoid of anything I want in my life.

So that’s why I am now here. Twenty years old, and I’ve never had a job. Not even a stint in a lemonade stand.

Pathetic, right? Well, I thought so, that’s kind of why I’m sitting in this really uncomfortable chair, filling out this really boring application, in the most bland reception possible. I’m talking very well-done steaks levels of bland here.
Why do I need a job? Well, this isn’t just any job. This is the office of a high-powered stock broker: James L. Curtis III. Yes, that is his real name. I’m looking others like me, you see. In all my years, nobody has even looked like they’ve frozen time around me. You’d think there’d be a few.

In my way of thinking, there are two explanations: (1) I’m the only one, or (2) They are all dead or hiding. If others exist, I want to know why they aren’t everywhere. Hell, with this power I could take over the world, if I wanted. If any others exist, they are either in the government, or the financial sector. Searching this guy’s office will be a good start.

“Excuse me, sir? I need that application soon.” The grey-haired receptionist eyes me, black glasses framing a severe face. I smile back at her.

“Just give me a moment.”

She stares back, probably wishing that, she too, could dress like a mid-western farmer suddenly transplanted into a world where everyone has expensive suits and more expensive haircuts.

“Of course, sir.” She eventually smiles back. It never hurts to be polite.

I freeze time, feeling the rush of heat fill my body as though I was stepping into lava. The receptionist is still stuck in her macabre attempt of a smile.

I jump up, chucking the form on the ground. I’ll fill it out later. Just another bland applicant who will probably be automatically rejected anyway. I prowl through the office, looking the man’s office. There it is, the one paved with gold like a Spaniard’s wet dream. Wow.

I can see him inside there, tapping away like a robot at an assembly line, face utterly still. Top performer in the firm. I heard he even won an award. Looks like it was all talent, this time.

I hear a tapping sound behind me.