And you thought super heroes didn’t exist. I wouldn’t say I’m a hero just yet. However, I would definitely risk my life to save that damsel in distress. In fact, I almost died while doing it. Being the hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. My name is Christopher Howley and this is my story.
I discovered my ability the day I turned 16. Yeah it was my birthday. I wasn’t super excited to be up so early for school like everyday and I didn’t feel special at all, just older and more tired. I woke up and trudged out of my messy bedroom and into my small bathroom. I was startled by the zombie in the mirror. I noticed the obvious dark circles under my eyes. “This here is 10 years of stress and sleepless school nights…” I thought, then quickly added, “and a dash Call of Duty and Netflix all-nighters on the weekends.” I quickly brushed my teeth and threw on some clothes, shoved some papers on my desk into my bag and went downstairs.
I waited in the grimy station for the F subway train, I heard a lot of commotion leaking through the music coming from my iPhone. I was curious. I pulled down my hood and took out my ear buds and scanned the area. I still saw the same moody faces of New York city-goers I see everyday. However, I grew skeptical because I was sure I heard a lot of voices yet their mouths were not moving.
I heard the voices more clearly now. I focused on the man standing next to me. He was a stocky sweaty middle-aged man who looked like the 90s incarnate rocking the ugly brown plaid suit and a thinning comb-over. I heard his voice echo in my head.
“Oh God, I hope I don’t get fired.”
That was weird. I swore he wasn’t speaking.
I looked at a woman obnoxiously gabbing on the phone across the station. She was speaking familiarly to the person on the other end. Her laugh echoed throughout the station. The conversation continued.
I could hear her same voice echoing in my head saying something totally different. I heard, “My god, I cannot stand Lea. She’s such a joke.”  And many other nasty things.
Woah, why so cruel? Are people like that, or is it just a girl thing? It didn’t think too much into it, train arrived and the voices drowned on the clanking of the tracks.
I expected nothing special from my “peers” at school. I slogged through the crowded hallways constantly being shoved by people and backpacks.
The voices started to flow back again. I heard several thoughts overflow my brain. I heard tons of voices complaining, yearning, wishing, anticipating and I couldn’t take it.
So many voices. I couldn’t think. I forcibly covered my ears. Didn’t work. I stumbled and veered my body to my side. I kept stumbling and clashed my head on one of the dirty blue lockers on the wall of the hallway. The voices were too much. I turned the corner and escaped to my first class.
After a little bit, the voices drowned out. I was sitting, my head face down on my desk, my arms dangling off the sides, hood up, music as high as my phone could allow. I was already done with today and it wasn’t even first period yet. My classes are small and remote because I admit I’m not super smart in school, I have the “special” classes. However, I could not be happier to be away from all those people.
I was enjoying my peace until I heard a loud noise and a deafening, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRO!”. I peeked through my hood and saw my best friend, Lucas Richter standing on the desk in front of me with his hands stretched out.
“Get off the desk, man. You’ll get in trouble again,” I sighed.
“Fine.” He climbed down and plopped on the seat, “Now tell me: are you pumped for today?!”
“Not really.”
“Why?!?” He was surprised.
“Why not?” I answered. I lifted my head. Luke studied my face and his smile wavered for a nanosecond. Most of the time he is a loud idiot without a conscience but he is rarely sincere.
“Did you do your paper?” I changed the subject.
“Yes…and no.”
“What’d you mean…‘yes and no’?”
“Ms. Rolland wouldn’t accept it.” Lucas added.
“Scorch marks?” I guessed sarcastically. He nodded as if it was normal.
Luke has a slight problem with starting fires since middle school. He doesn’t any carry lighters or matches but his most of his clothes and possessions are scorched or burned in some areas. He insists it’s not his fault but the teachers and students labeled him a delinquent and a pyromaniac. I don’t think he is, to be honest.
“So do you have detention or not?” I asked casually.
“Ms. Rolland has realized she can’t punish me.” He sat back and kicked his feet up on his desk and paraded a cocky smile that stretched almost ear to ear, “That woman will never break me. So I’m free tonight,” He smiled, “How do you wanna celebrate?”
“I dunno. Come over and we’ll think about it ” I sighed.
Ms. Rolland walked in, looked at Lucas, whom smiled and waved vigorously, with her dead distant eyes. She rolled her eyes, sighed, and started class.
Today wasn’t so bad. I avoided the cafeteria at lunch and the rush of kids afterschool. I didn’t take the train home either. When I came home, I half-baked my homework then I killed time on my laptop and X-Box like always. Luke arrived a little bit later and we played some more video games.
“Hey, Chris…” Lucas suggested in the middle of a high speed car chase in Grand Theft Auto V. He shot down a helicopter then continued, “Wanna go downtown for some indoor paintball?”
“Sure” I said. A cop car slammed into my damaged car and it exploded. I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. I accidently let loose a string of curse words and Lucas was choking on air from laughing too hard. I had to admit it was funny. “Alright, I’m done with this. I’m gonna get my phone and let’s go.”
I had a fun evening with Luke eating junk food, competing in arcade games and playing rounds of paintball in a black light lit arena with neon gear and neon paintballs. Luke at one point jumped off the balcony and shot at me. He could have broken his leg…but it was awesome. We left the building around 10:45, I was chatting with Luke showing him the bruises on my arms from direct hits. We were laughing and jabbering loudly until we calmed down five minutes into the walk.
I decided to get serious. I told him about what happened on the train and the hallway this morning. He opened his mouth but hesitated. Then he shouted, “BRO! YOU HAVE A SUPER POWER!”
I stared at him with a “The Look of Judgement” which Luke named in 8th grade. It was a combination of judgment and utter concern I used especially on Lucas when he completely bewilders me with his ignorance and stupidity on a new level. I wondered how many calories he burned jumping to conclusions like that. I’m glad he believes me (saves me some time explaining). There isn’t at least one normal fiber in his being that would say “Wait, this isn’t normal?”
Before I said anything, he excitedly explained. “Chris. YOU. CAN. READ. MINDS! Isn’t that just amazi-” a small fire started at his feet and he causally stooped and stomped it out, “CHRIS, WHAT AM I THINKING RIGHT NOW?!”
“I don’t know. I don’t have control over it. It just happens.” I shrugged.
What I said probably did not register. He went on, “Hey, we could be superheroes!”
“We?”
“What? You think these fires happen on coincidence?” Lucas raised an eyebrow. I thought about it and it actually made sense. All the pieces fit: an uncontrollable ability which sprouts somewhere after puberty that is triggered by something like excitement or crowds.
“What do you th-” Luke was interrupted by a woman’s scream in an alleyway. We ran towards the sound and we came across a mugging in progress. A crying teenager girl was seized in the arms of a burly man in a hood and some kind of mask.
I recognized the girl as a student at my school. I went to school with her since elementary but we don’t talk. She was a smart pretty girl with dirty blonde (or light brown, which is a debatable). I could never talk to her because she was way out of my league, or several leagues away but that didn’t matter because Luke decided to jump into action.
As a friend, I wanted to back him up in any fight. After a better look of the size of this man, I was mentally finalizing my will. We charged. I was hesitate but I jumped in after him. I felt really good for some reason. Adrenaline maybe? I was determined to beat the bad guy, save the girl, and fly off into the sunset, believe it or not, like a hero.
Good: He let the girl go. Bad: he was coming to fight us. It was going pretty well for the first minute. The man grabbed Luke and tried to throw him, but before Lucas hit the wall he gripped the man’s sleeve and it caught fire. I couldn’t tell if that was on purpose, but the mugger was surely astounded. Lucas hit the brick and fell; he didn’t get up. The man beat his sleeve until the fire was gone, he was not pleased.
He charged at me. I was struck in several places: chest, face, stomach, and more vital unprotected organs in my abdomen. I was doing great… for someone trying to die. Then the voices started to flow back again. I heard his next moves and dodged. I noticed there was a constant screaming both outside and inside my head. I noticed the girl was still here, screaming her lungs off. It was annoying. I landed a hit. Then another. Then another! I handed another and he fell back. Woah…I’m winning!
He struggled to get up. The mugger took out a pocketknife.
“I’m dead.”  I thought bluntly.
I tried to read his movements from his mind again but this time he was aimlessly cutting the air. Admittedly the knife scared me and ultimately I didn’t feel like a hero anymore. The mugger punched me in the side. I fell. I couldn’t get up this time, the area he hit hurt too much. Why? I flinched and grabbed my side. I’m bleeding.
“Oh perfect. I’ve been stabbed.”  I realized.
Seconds later I saw the intense police sirens. The mugger tried to leave the scene and jump the fence at the other end of the alley but some officers surprised him there. I crawled and supported myself on the other side of the alley. I squinted to see the police arresting the mugger. 20 feet to my left leaning against the same wall was the damsel in distress, passed out from fear or lack of oxygen from screaming. So much for saving her… I turned my head and checked on Luke. He was had a noticeable welt on the back of his head but he was okay. I knew that because he was mumbling something about waffles.
My vision was blurring when the paramedics hoisted me on a stretcher. I was a little disappointed. Where was the “beat the bad guy, save the girl, and fly off into the sunset” action? I couldn’t even finish the first thing. Not to mention I was stabbed. Is this what a hero calls for? My entire body aches and I’m ruining this shirt with blood, all on my birthday. I finally decided that I don’t want this. Lucas doesn’t know what he is getting into with this super hero stuff. Then again, he has no filter, he could just blindly jump into action…like he did. But he didn’t wait for anything, he just dived right in to help her. It was so…selfless. Lucas is a hero, but could I say the same for me? I looked up at the shiny metal roof of the ambulance, the bright lights staring me down, the instruments dangling, I weakly whispered, “Being a hero blows.”