When I was a kid, I dreamed of being a superhero.
In my seven year old brain, it was the only thing worth being. For hours, I would sneak-read the marvel comics my older brother had collected over the years.
Older brother? Oh...right.
It's not as though I especially love life, but...
"It's time you woke up..." a sobbing voice told me, gripping my hand.
Who? Who?
I'm sure he was like that too. At least at one point. Wanting to be a superhero. To be right.
So, why? No matter how hard I tried to understand, it didn't matter.
Wanting to be a superhero...that desire hasn't changed after all these years; if anything, it's grown stronger.
But perhaps, the motivation has changed.
I just never want to feel that helpless ever again.
bzzt. bzzt.
My eyes snapped open. Snatching the phone that was about to fall off the edge of the bed, I hastily turned off the alarm.
I stared at the cellular device in my hand before shaking myself out my reverie. My head was pounding with an oncoming headache.
What a sickening dream I had just had.
