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aquietpining

Singapore

trying to be an earnest chocolate labrador kind of person!!

Message to Readers

thank you for reading:')) i just wanna know if the voice was consistent and if the worldbuilding was interesting!

duty calls

August 10, 2018

FREE WRITING

1
This superpower, superhero whatever thing was fun for the first three days. I got up and my supersuit - with no cape, as I'd always wanted, per Edna's instructions - was hanging in my closet. I was sleek and toned and as muscular as I ever would be. (God, my calves were to die for.)

I pulled on the spandex, admiring the way it managed to outline my newfound abs, and thought about how I'd save the world. Then I heard it, a pull in my gut, and I knew - I just knew - where I was needed. Where I could save the day.

My first one was a doozy. It was as if someone had pre-loaded all the moves: the Bruce Lee kungfu, the Matrix bullet dodging Neo, even the Iron Man quips (though I'm still waiting to find my team and declare "we've got a HULK") into my brain and I trussed up the seventeen bad guys outside the bank they were robbing, just in time for me to swoop away as police sirens rang around the block.

It started to get tiring after I caught national media attention. My girlfriend - oh, more smoking hot than Lois Lane - said it wasn't a bad thing after all, especially since they hadn't figured out my real identity anyway. My mask more than covered my face and did something to my voice too, so I didn't have to actively try and speak like Batman all the time. But what she didn't know was that suddenly I was waking up in the middle of the night because I kept hearing - with my superhero ears - people crying for help. I mean, it didn't really matter because I'd found I didn't really need sleep anymore - I seemed to have endless reserves of energy and strength and power. But the pull, the call to action that accompanied the cries wouldn't go away. I needed to make it stop. And sometimes to make it stop I had to do the most inane things. You can only pull someone's dumb cat Mr. Snobbles out of a tree a maximum of eight times before you wonder if it's just better to teach a lesson by leaving it there. And once word spreads about a friendly neighbourhood superhero the help help help and the urge to do something to rescue people never seems to go away. It's a faint ache now, and the only way to relieve it is to do something. But also the more you do, you start to understand why sometimes people charge for things.

It's the fourth day. I'm woken up at six by a startlingly shrill cry for help. It sounds urgent - and I allow myself to ponder the possibilities (bank robbery? home invasion? No - a big one: a supervillian pulling an impossible heist and what I was hearing was our resident billionaire's panic as he lay gagged on the floor of his bedroom) as I flick my wrist and my supersuit snaps on. Zipping around the block, I remind myself that I'm one of the lucky ones. Some others get bitten by spiders, some struck by lightning, but me - I just woke up one day and suddenly I could do everything. I was an amalgamation of all the superpowers you could dream of. In fact, I was pretty sure I could conjure up new ones just by imagining them. I had the ability to do math really quick, for example. I'm not sure if I'd ever seen that in comic books before.

The screams grow louder as I near an apartment. I'm managing expectations wildly now, but still entertaining the possibility of a cat burglar and a low-key millionaire in a modest suburban neighbourhood. I think of Kitty from X-Men and I step right through the wall.

I'm in someone's kitchen. They have a nice marble backsplash. There's just a lone woman in a pink fluffy dressing gown standing right by the kitchen island.

"Help!" she shrieks one more time, before she realises I'm standing - attractively, I hope. Dark Knightly, perhaps? - in the middle of the room.

"Hey there mister," she says, "could you help a little lady with this?”

She proffers a jar of peanut butter. The pull in my gut and the faint whispering - help help help help - in my ears still lingers. I guess this is my call. I wrench the lid off the jar and slam it on the counter. I smile, although I'm well aware my left eye is beginning to twitch.

"Thank you," the woman says, as she turns away and continues to make her breakfast.
i have a thing for desperately human superheroes :'))

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