a story in n parts:

Everyone was always watching him. Eight months old and not a minute of privacy. Everyone was always excited too. The doctors observed him as if he were made of radio waves. His parents were afraid of him, though they would have been shocked and ashamed to know that he knew it. His parents were both intelligent people too. His mother's IQ, hovering between 165 and 169, and his fathers less than ten points behind, put them both in a small percentile of the population, but that was by no means enough to explain how his IQ was (estimated, but still unproven) more than both theirs put together. His first word was, "I", his second, "guess", followed by four more consecutively: "I'll start talking now."

That was three weeks ago, 221 days after birth, said in a moment of exasperation to get them to go away. He had talked before but was always careful to disguise it with "goo goo's" and "gah gah's". Exercising his mouth. The doctors didn't know that. The press said he was from Krypton. He just wanted to be alone. He told them that. That was his second sentence: "Leave me alone." He refused to speak anymore until they did. But the cameras and recording machines bothered him too. He began to devise a plan.