Fred

Ow! Like always, it feels like getting punched in the chest, but it was worth it. I am finally Barack Obama.

If you think I’m insane right now I wouldn't blame you. I have this “super”power to be able to change bodies, but like every super-power, there are some restrictions. Like I said before whenever I go into another body I get electrocuted (which fells like getting punch in the chest, if you just got lost there). Also I can’t just think about the person then become them, I have to touch them. Also a good thing is that when I’m another person I still get all my prior knowledge and the other person’s knowledge and personality. If you were wondering what my name is, truthfully, I have no clue, so I just call myself Fred. I also don’t have a clue where I came from, but the longest back I can remember, I think I’m Egyptian. Maybe some pharaoh made me, because technically I’m not a human, I’m just the spirit of a human that I don’t know and is probably dead. Right now I’m this random 12 year old at this school called Asa Clark and he had a laptop, so I became him and started to write this, because I know from his prior knowledge that he has to write a fiction story (even though this isn’t fiction.)

Anyway, you’re probably wondering how I got to be the President of the United States. At the time I was a random accountant in Illinois. For the past few weeks I’d been rapidly going from person to person, trying to find someone with a connection to Chicago White Sox. The random accountant I was just so happened to be very good friends with the owner of the White Sox. It probably looked really strange, but once I was in his body I jumped right out of my office like I was on a trampoline, happy as can be. I bet right now you’re saying to yourself “How do the White Sox have anything to do with Barack Obama. Well, in the next week Barack Obama will be throwing the first pitch at the White Sox game. So if I could be the owner of the White Sox I’m sure I will be shaking Obama’s hand sometime after he throws the first pitch. I turns out, much to my luck, that I (the accountant) am having dinner with Jerry Reinsdorf (the owner of the White Sox) and his family tonight.

I don’t think you want to hear about the dinner with the Reinsdorfs, because it was extremely boring. Who knew someone with that much importance in a baseball team could be that uninteresting, but the main part of importance here is that I am the owner of the White Sox. I’m also going to skip the next three days in this story, because those were also excruciatingly boring.

Finally, I’m at U.S. Cellular field in Chicago and waiting for Barack Obama to come through the dugout. After about a minute he finally comes walking through, comes up to me and shakes my hand. I didn’t even have to do anything! If you saw Barack Obama throw the first pitch, you can probably tell I’m not the best athlete, but in the end it doesn’t even matter. I achieved my goal.

To conclude, I should probably give this boy his body back and if you ever fell like something comes over you, there is a very slim chance that you were Fred for a little bit.