Super

Chapter 1: An Accidental Suicide

Beep, beep, beep.

"Ugh" I groaned as my alarm continued its constant attempt to separate my bed and I. Why must true love always suffer such trails?

I extended my hand from the sheets and turned the alarm off. I fell into bliss once again, but only a few moments later, my mom came into my room. Without knocking, if I might add: that's bad manners.

"Andrew Anderson, get up. You're going to be late for school", she said with a firm but gentle tone.

"Hello, mom, lovely to see you this morning. Now, if I might ask, why did you and dad have to give an alliterative name? Was it because you thought I'd be a superhero one day or did you think it'd be funny if I ever went to an AA meeting?" I jokingly asked her with my voice groggy from sleep, trying to prolong my time with my beloved.

She walked in closer and flicked me on the forehead.

"Ow", I said.

"Very funny, young man; you are now forbidden from drinking alcohol 'til the day you die. And for your information, you are capable of great things, Andrew. And with that great power, comes great responsibility; so get up. Your responsibility starts in an hour." And with that, she walked out the door.

"You should have said the AA meeting; superhero's parents always get the short end of the stick!" I called out.

"You better hope that's not your case, or who's going to make you breakfast?" She called back.

She had quite a fair point. I'll try flattery next time, I thought to myself, maybe that'll get me an extra five minutes.

»»»»»

After a sorrowful goodbye to my mattress and pillows, and a less dramatic goodbye to my parents, I commenced my trek towards hell—sorry, high school, I meant high school; my bad.

As a high school student, I knew that, any minute now, my life would change drastically and as I fell into an existing new world of adventure, I would come to miss my previous monotone existence... Or at least that was how it went in books. Though by that logic, there should be a lot more superheroes and wizards in the news by now...

"Ugh!"

I suddenly heard a groan as I neared an alleyway, along with the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

"Let's see if this shows you your place" Someone said, followed by another resounding punch.

The noise surrounded me as bad memories began to surface. I pushed them away. You're not there anymore, I told myself and I quickly walked to the mouth of the alley. There I saw three boys my age beating up another. Two of them were doing the actual beating up, while the third seemed to be supervising—for lack of a better word—the kicks and punches with his arms crossed.

Then I realized that I'd seen them before, at school. They were my classmates.

I was awful at remembering people; in fact, sometimes, I would even forget my own age. Once, right after a wonderful immersive experience in a lovely fantasy book, I forgot my name. I had to remind myself that my name was Andrew Anderson. They might say it's boring but reading can be a dangerous practice. It is not for the faint of heart.

Back to the situation at hand, I took a better look at the victim and though I couldn't see his face, I recognized seeing that black hoodie he was wearing often, so I was sure he went to my school as well. Actually, now that I thought about it, I recalled seeing it from the corner of my eye quite frequently.