Dummies' Guide to Being a Superhero (Editing)

One: Chillin' Like a Villain

ONE: CHILLIN' LIKE A VILLAIN

"A hero can be anyone. Even a man doing something as simple and reassuring as putting a coat around a little boy's shoulder, to let him know that the world hadn't ended."

- Batman, The Dark Knight Rises

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IT WASN'T SAFE TO SAY that Gretal Davidson enjoyed trips to the bank. There was dozens of problems that could occur in the exact moment. It had everything to do with justice.

A bunch of burglars could come in and start pointing their flimsy guns at the ceiling, then justice comes in and kicks their asses. Or a bomb could go off inside the building and a superhero would sweep in there and save them all. That's kind of how Brooklyn, New York sort of runs here.

A reason why Gretal is at the bank so late at night? Well, apparently she had to join her mom on a quick run. Gretal had no idea why she agreed in the first place. Maybe it was fate, destiny . . . or just pure bad luck.  (Or possibly the fact that she doesn't want her mom chewing her out about how they don't spend time together anymore. Or, y'know, it could be something else. Possibly.)

Either way it didn't make up for the fact that there was about ten people in front of Gretal and her mom. With an exhausted sigh she crossed her arms, not up for the crap.

A few seconds passed when Gretal couldn't handle it anymore. She trudged to the nearest hallway, disappearing into the bathroom. She took deep breaths and stared at her reflection. Her gray eyes looked bored and tired, lost of amusement and inspiration. Her brown hair was up in a messy pony tail, curls falling over her eyes. And she looked like a ghost, as if just being in this very bank sucked the life out of her skin color. She scoffed at her appearance. There's probably a lot more she can do in this time instead of being bored to death.

When she exited the bathroom, the bank was being robbed. Literally being robbed. Everything was chaos. Bystanders were running around while masked figures threatened the employees.

Gretal crouched behind the closest pillar. "God, I'm gone for ten seconds and ninjas rob a bank."

She looked around for her mom. Even though she disagreed with her mother most of the time, deep down she still loved her. And now she panicked, head moving back and forth as she searched for her mom's familiar blonde head. Oh, what the hell?

Gretal sprang up, walking right into the crime scene. One of the masked men was bulky and he caught sight of her small frame quickly. He held out his gun, and she could've sworn he was grinning behind the stupid mask. The bastard.

She closed her eyes, feeling entirely hopeless.

"Ready to meet your doom, little girl--"

Little girl? What, do I look like a five year old? But the bulky bloke never got the chance to finish his words. He was a bunch of limbs on the floor, groaning and mumbling in and out of consciousness. Gretal glanced up.

In front of her was a tall figure. Entire blue tight suit and masked, white lines shaped like lightning going over his arms and legs. They almost looked like they were moving, sparking against each other and sort of blinding her in a way.  His honey colored hair was messy and all over the place. Just woke up and saw the news, huh? Gretal thought to herself.

A normal person would've freaked and kissed the man's feet, but superhero Electric wasn't a miracle. Well, despite the fact that he saved her life.

His electric blue eyes sparkled. "Could I at least get a 'thank you'?"

Gretal shook her head. "Help me find my mom, then maybe you'll get a damn 'thank you'."