You Think You're A Hero

• Michael Kenny, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2014

This is not part of the plan.
She’s not following the plan.

God. Look at me. Lying on the floor, helpless.
My head is spinning. Not to mention that crowbar. Felt like a freight train colliding with my gut, moving my organs a little to the back towards my spine. A couple of my ribs are dancing around in my chest on their own.

She’s not following the plan.

Hey. Let’s become a superhero.
That’s the second thought that passed through my mind when I found out.
Found out about my… condition.
Hey. Let’s dress up in a costume and save the city. That’s a great idea.
Bloody idiot.

What is she doing?

Come on, man.
Get up.
That’s right, one hand, two hands.
Slowly pick yourself up.
Jesus.
Something exploded in my stomach. Back on the floor. I can’t move my neck. God damn it. Something sharp jolts up my spine and enters the back of my head making it feel like a swarm of flying razors, bouncing around inside my skull.
I can’t move my neck.
But I can still see.
Roll.
You need to roll.

What are you doing, Girl?

Bodies.
So many.
Someone tries to strike her with a baseball bat.
She stops him and the bat bends and twists. Screeching metal coils around his wrists. Bones inside his arm pop and crack and he screams for God. She lifts him up off the ground and stares at him.
She just stares at him.
Not a single word spoken.

She’s not following the plan.

You’re an idiot.
You stupid, pathetic moron.
You only chose her for a partner because she had a power.
Because she can move things with her mind and all that crap.
What’s her name?
Oh yea, you don’t know her name, do you?
You don’t know anything about her, but hey, sure, let’s make her your partner and save the city as superheroes.
Idiot.
She barely even talks.

What is she doing?

That’s another thing.
Never seen her face.
Never.
She’s always wearing that mask.
That’s two things now. Don’t know her name or what she even looks like.
But hey, let’s be partners, because that’s a great idea.
Actually, that’s three things.
Don’t know her name, what she looks like, and now here you are, bleeding on the floor about to pass out because you thought breaking into a criminal gang hideout was a great idea and you brought this crazy freak with you.
Actually, that’s four things.
I’m not so good with “great ideas”.

I need to stop her.

The poor guy.
Even if he is a criminal.
He’s crying now. You’d never think that a bloke his size would be crying for mercy to a girl who isn't old enough to drink.
What’s he saying?
He’s asking.
Asking about what he did to deserve this.
She’s not replying.
Just staring.
He’s shouting now.
He shouts.
And she roars.

I need to stop her.
She’s going to kill him.

Stop.

She’s a monster.
Whatever she is, she’s a monster.
Her voice is like thunder. The guy is forced to stare into the dark sockets of her mask.
She’s swearing. Cursing his soul.
And he’s afraid.

I need to stop her.
She’s going to kill him.

Come on, man. Just stretch out your arm.
Muscles strain. Shoulder nearly gives way.
Come on, man.
Nearly there.
Good thing this floor is made of metal.
My hand finally touches the foggy surface.
I give all I got.
A bolt of light blinds me as energy explodes out of my arm and travels across the floor.
It moves through the bodies of the criminals and forces its way up her leg.
Never paid much attention in science, but that amount of electricity should take her out.
She gives out a scream of pain and falls unconscious.
She tumbles to the floor with a thud. The bloke is not too far behind.
Her body begins to jolt sharply in silence.

It’s quiet now.
I'm bleeding.
I'm tired.

All I can hear now is the guy, crying for help.