Super Heroes
By Jordan Hindrichs
Normal people, unlike myself, address Super Heroes as fakes, and even by the off chance
they find out that they were wrong, they’d still live around the fact that they are the most
extraordinary and blessed organism of all. You can blame us, its just human nature to wish and
hope to be the best. Hope for the best. At least for most of us it is. The rest of us obsess about
others, dwell upon death and how they hate it, scared of it. Not scared of their life to end, yet
others. I tap around my window with my freshly painted fingernails, and gaze down onto the
street. I can barely see due to rain spattered all over the glass, yet even so I can make out a faint
light on the sidewalk where the streetlight would normally be. I imagine the streets filled with
people, and one person off to the side leaning on the mailbox next to my apartment. Alas, it’s
the one I care about.
“Edward,” I whisper to myself.
To say it bluntly, Edward would be classified as a Super Hero, and I’m just his fiancé.
Some say this extraordinary power he got is a gift from God, some say its evolution, but Edward
and me both know its hell. His ‘power’ is quite literally super strength. He can’t lift up a train,
no, but he’s able to lift a fully-grown man over his head with a mere one hand. Of course,
there’s a downside. In order to be able to get the strength he needs, his body quite literally massproduces
adrenaline. His body has adapted to handle the some of the effects of too much
adrenaline (like heart attacks), yet he still suffers from anger tantrums, and worse if he gets too
worked up and enough adrenaline rushing into his body, he will seize.
This is why I worry. While he’s out attempting to save our washed up city, he risks
exposing his identity. Who knows what people would do they ever found out about his ability.
They’d just test him and test him until he wants to die. Yet even worse for me, he could actually
die.
At that moment a shiver ran down my spine. I recalled more passed times, and it was
raining like it was today. It was well over two in the morning, a time while mostly everyone was
supposed to be sleeping. Edward lay down on the pavement, beside the now tipped over
mailbox, bleeding heavily from a gash right through the homemade mask he wore. The man
Edward was fighting against was carrying the black leather strip of fabric from his mask. I can
still remember the bloodthirsty look on the man’s dead white face. Quickly he flicked the piece
of mask away, and continued making way for Edward. Strangely enough, he had the same
power as Edward does, yet more advanced. He had super speed as well as strength. I finally
couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed through the crowd of people and ran into the fight,
screaming.
“NO, YOU CAN’T HURT HIM!” I cry, getting ever louder as a progress more and more
toward the fight scene. The crowd is still remaining silent, mouths open. Nobody in this terrible
world even thought of helping him.
The man turned at me. We stared for what seemed like a lifetime. Never will I forget
that smirk on his face. My eyes ran toward Edward, and I noticed his face was twitching. The
man must have noticed what I was looking at, but when he went to go and turn around Edward
was too quick, knocking him unconscious with the mailbox, or so we thought. He ran, and the
only thing he left behind was a bloodstain on the pavement and the fabric from Edward’s mask.
Gladly a knock on the door ended my dream. Slowly I get up from my chair and open it.
I smile, as it’s Edward carrying flowers for me. I give him a hug, and just now notice the tears
over my face. I stand on my toes, reaching for his lips.

