It started as you might think it would start: in a dark room filled with teenage angst. I was alone, surrounded by people yet separated from everyone. I would attend classes, go to the lectures, go right through the motions just as any normal person might do. Except when the classes let out, I went back to my room. And I wouldnt leave. I didnt have friends, didnt know anyone at my college. Even as a sophomore I couldnt point one person out and tell myself he or she was my friend. I didnt go to the dining hall because I was scared of eating alone. I didnt want to be that person who sat at an empty table, pretending to text and pretending he wasnt alone as he ate. I would eat my trail mix and fruit bars until my hunger forced me to slink to a nearby fast-food joint. I was totally and completely isolated. I would spend my hours playing online games and scrolling through the depths of the Internet. I guess thats where I got the idea from, other then from watching all those movies. All the movies where someone in my situation made a drastic change, and presto-chango: he would become happy. Thats what I truly lacked was happiness. I felt hollow and empty. And when I finally looked at myself in the mirror after spending another night in a dark, lonely room I decided to change that. To fill that void with something that every outcast wishes he could fill it with: a superhero. All that anger and unhappiness, the hours spent alone and nights spent wishing I wasnt me was turned toward a singular goal: get in shape and make a difference. This is where my story begins. It is not a happy story, or one of self-embellishment. I want her to to know that I'm sorry, and this is the only way I can do it.
I had just logged off of my online mmo after hyping myself up to begin the transformation. Before I started doing anything, I needed to get in shape. And not just fit, but the look of a Spartan. I was tall, thin, and not particularly muscular. I looked around the room to find something to start on. I couldn't go to a gym, not by myself, not in front of people. My room would have to make do. Sit-ups, crunches, squats, and any other exercise I could make-up on the fly would have to do. I decided that I would start by doing push ups, but first I needed some music. I put my headphones in, went to Pandora, and scrolled through my channels. Nothing struck me as 'pump up' music, so as with everything I turned to google. My phone loaded up a play list, and I began. Maybe thirty seconds into it, I started to feel my stomach cramp. I hadnt eaten anythng that day except some chocolate-covered blueberries and cheetos. I sighed, and pushed through it. Ill eat later, I told myself, as I continued to do pushups. I counted to ten, and rolled over panting. My stomach muscles screamed at me, and I decided to move to arms. After moving around my dresser and bed frame, I was able to do thrusters. After about twenty minutes of moving from station to station after ten or so reps, I was out. My body ached, and my stomach growled furiously like a jackal scoffing at its prey. I got up, and went to my computer. Back to google. I scrolled through the links, desperately trying to find some diet that wasnt to expensive to buy. After tracking one down, I finally turned off my computer for the night and fell asleep. It took me hours for my mind to drift into a dream, hours filled with twangs of loneliness, depression, and hope. Hope that maybe this hero idea could work.
*Four Weeks Later*
After spending hours cutting and trying to stitch, my costume was finished. I looked in the mirror before I put it on, and I saw myself being reflected right back at me. Except this me had a vague outline of a six-pack, decent sized arms, and a cut body. I threw on the fabric, ties the mask and shows, and spiked my hair. When I looked back in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. The dark colors of my costume mixed with the bright-red stripes, and rorshack-Esq mask, the spiked hair, and the hilt of a sword on my hip. I looked like a hero. Or at least in my eyes I did. The sixth-grader level of seamstress-ry didnt bother me as I tested the flexibility of the fabric. Perfect. I took it off, grabbed a weapon I had fashioned (It was a long piece of metal that I spray-painted black), threw my costume in a bag, and departed to begin my first patrol.
Like most college campuses, the immediate residences directly off of campus-grounds was not high-class. In my case, it was downtown Lancaster. Not crime ridden, but not ridden of crime. Not yet. I changed behind a dumpster into my costume, and started walking around the vacant streets. I passed some people who stared, laughed, and asked to take pictures. I ignored them and surveyed the area of something. I dont know what I was looking for, but I would know when I found it. I passed a bar emptying and some drunk college kids, but nothing that I was looking for. But just as I was wondering what I was doing, I saw three figures following somebody as I turned a corner. they were walking behind him, maybe a few feet lagging, but it did not appear to be a friendly trail. I couldnt tell who they were following, but then they reached an alley entrance. The tallest of the three grabbed the figures arm, and lef him down the alley with his two friends trailing. I froze. I had stumbled upon something. The odds of this happening to me my first night were astronomical. I didnt know what to do: I wasnt a real hero. I was just a kid. But he was a real hero. Arkanas was a hero, and he knew what to do. He walked down the alley behind the three figures, and saw them talking to a clearly drunk girl. She seemed disoriented, not fully there, and a hint of fear. Arkanas smiled.
"Hey assholes. I dont think she wants to tape you three boning eachother." He said, stepping closer to the figures. They turned toward him, confused. As their eyes met the badly stitched, poorly dressed and clearly not all-there figure, they laughed.
"Get the fuck out of here, queerbait, before you end up hurt." The tall one replied, taking out a switchblade and signaling me to leave.
"Usually I would let you go with a warning. Now Im going to break your knees." Arkanas said, reaching around for the pole attached to his back. He ripped it off, and swung it to his front. It went flying, bouncing off the wall between him and the group. I could feel his face flush red, and I cursed myself for putting so much Velcro on the staff. The group laughed, and the big guy stepped forward. He swung his fist, and I braced myself for the incoming, jaw-breaking, hit. Then, Arkanas sprung into action. He sidestepped the punch, put an arm behind the attackers, and swung his other arm for the attackers elbow. A sickening crunch was heard as Arkanas pulled his arm that was behind the attackers arm towards him, and pushed his other further into his elbow. The man screamed, and the other two, bewildered, sprung into action. Arkanas turned to see one swing a knife at him. He sidestepped it, but was hit by the third memeber. He dropped to the ground, rolled away from the group, and recovered his staff. I saw as the tall member rolled in agony on the ground, and the other two approached Arakanas cautiously. He swung the pole around, and connected with one of their heads. He then twirled around to smash the other end into the last attackers stomach, before smashing an open palm to his face. As the three men lay rolling on the ground, he approached the woman. Still disoriented, she asked what his name was. Before Arkanas could answer, A loud bang rang out. All I could hear from that point on was screaming. The last thing I remember is looking down to see a hole in my costume, about the size of a walnut, with red goo pouring out.
And thats why Im here. I know im not going to make it, Im not dumb. Just promise me please, please, that you will tell her that Im sorry. Tyler will know what Im talking about.
"Wait, slow down." The paramedic said, screaming over the sound of the ambulance. He struggled to reposition himself as the ambulance took a fast turn. My gurney I was laying on slammed into the side of the truck, but I didnt really feel it. The pain medication had me pretty numb. "Youll be fine kid, but why? Whyd you do it?"
I didnt tell you this, but I saw the gun. When that guy pulled the knife, he also showed me he had a gun. Arkanas wanted to take it away before he talked to the girl, but I said not to. Its not that I wanted to die, please let them know that. Its that I didnt want to have to continue living. I know it doesn't make sense, but Id rather die doing something then live doing nothing. Please---my vision started to blur, and Arkanas screamed at me to stay awake, I could feel myself slipping---make sure you tell them what I told you. I want her to know Im so sorry. Immmmmm----
The paramedic's vision blurred as a tear formed in his eye. They were still a mile or so from the hospital, but he knew the call would be dead on arrival. He didnt know who this boy was, what he meant be not wanting to die but not wanting to live, or who she was but one thing was for certain: he'd fill his promise. When the parents came to the hospital, faces painted with shock, horror, and pain, he sat them down and told them this story. Apparently Tyler was his best friend, but the parents didnt know who she was. Or who Arkanas was. Or why he did any of this. They didnt even know he was depressed. He heard another doctor whisper something about skitzaphrenia, multiple personalities, pyschosis. The paramedic, after finishing his story with the parents, went back to work. He saw the other ambulances arrive, two unconcious men, one with a broken arm, and a alcohol-ridden girl. He sighed, and got back in the ambulance and just stared at the walls.
