Thursday, December 27, 2007


You may not know, but I've been doing the hero thing for about 10 years now. As much as I like to pretend, I really don't have all the answers. But nobody wants to know that you don't have the answers, so sometimes you just have to fake it.

A year after knowing I could do it, I decided to put it to use. I thank my friend James. He has powers, too – though they developed in a not so exciting way. James first got his powers the first time he was struck by lightening. Despite the drama surrounded by his powers, James always said he'd become a hero when he grew up. After my powers kicked in, and James and I formed our own super group, James moved. His family took him away. His mom promised my mom that he'd write – but that didn't happen. I often wondered if his family has him locked in the basement to keep him from getting struck by lightening. They really should have embraced it. Whenever there was a blackout, James would come over and power the whole house so we could still watch cable. We were best friends. Since he left, I decided to keep the hero thing going. And Just maybe, we'd run into each other again – except this time, I would have all the girlfriends.

My first costume was definitely too kid-like. But I was 15, what would you expect. I would show up to a situation ready to brawl with the bad guys and the cops would tell me to stand back, because they thought I was a little kid playing dress up. Damn these boyish good looks. What they didn't get was, I was the hero on the scene. No matter how old.

My second costume was a bit too grown up. Very boring get-up. I'm certain I was over compensating for the previous. That short-lived look transitioned into my 3 installment of life. This was a dark time for me. Breaking lots of rules, and doing things my way. Aside from building bad credit, I also developed a reputation for not playing the game straight. I'd show up to a crime scene and nearly get arrested for something days before. Far as I saw it, I stopped the bad guys, who cared if they had a broken bone or two. Honestly, I think the cops was mad I was getting all the benefits. I've watched television. I knew they would get some of the vilian's loot to split among themselves. I just took my cut first. And as far as the bad guys, I never understood how they could be so scary, only to turn around and cry like babies over a few bruises and scratches.

My latest costume is perfect. It's trendy, and reflects the whole 20's me. Grown, but not past my prime. It says I'm capable of handling the situation. Even fits under my regular clothes. And I know folks usually frown on the whole spandex thing... but let's face it. I'm 25. Physically, I'm hot. But I don't brag or nothing.

So, I've got a new costume, a new name and a new repuation to build. As long as no one connects me to the "dark" me, it's all good.

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