Superhero: It's My Life

Sometimes, I almost wish the world would end. Seriously. Will the suffering of ordinary men and women in this mundane world ever end? Will people stop discriminating against those who are different? There seems to be no end to the madness I see all around me. And in spite of my abilities, I am powerless to stop it. My name is Alexandros Pyrrhos. I am a big and tall, somewhat good-looking young man of Haitian-American and Greek descent living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I attend Massachusetts Commonwealth University, also known as CMU. I lead the kind of life many would envy. My family is wealthy and powerful. I'm nineteen years old and play Division One Football. Oh, and I have super powers. I am also openly bisexual, and currently single. And the entire world thinks I'm a joke. I hate my life.

I don't know when I discovered I was different but I simply am. I am invulnerable. Bullets, flames, knives, poisons, none of it can hurt me. I've been that way since birth. The doctors found this out when they tried to

'modify' me, against my dying mother Alexandra Pierrot Pyrrhos's wishes. Dear old mum believed in naturalism and the holistic approach to life and was an opponent of human bodily modification for any reason except life-threatening circumstances. My skin simply cannot be broken. On top of being invulnerable, I am also quite strong. I can lift up to forty times my own weight. Not an ounce more. I can lift a cab, and maybe a school bus. But not a train. There are limits to even superhuman strength. Don't ask me to lift up Mount Everest. I'll tell you to go screw yourself.

I have the Gift of Speed, though. I can run really fast when I push myself. I can't dodge a speeding bullet. I can't outrun a racehorse. But I can definitely outrun any man or woman among the NCAA's top cross country and track & field athletes. Not a boast, just the truth. Fifty five miles per hour is my max. for those of you wondering, I cannot fly. I've only tried it once. I fell on my ass from a height of three hundred feet and looked ridiculous in front of billions. The video is all over MySpace and Youtube. It's embarrassing. I'm not a superhero, or some damn Saturday morning cartoon. I'm just an ordinary guy, with certain special abilities. If anyone asks me to fly again, on anything beside an airplane or a helicopter, I will shove a rocket up their asses. Let them find out what it's like to fly, the hard way. I swear on all that's holy. I also cannot see through walls. I cannot hear any better than you can. Hell, I hear worse than most guys, if my short-lived relationships with past girlfriends are to be believed. I can't shoot heat beams from my eyes.

In spite of all my gifts, my life isn't exactly easy. Anyone growing up in a single parent home will tell you the exact same thing. My father, Nikos Pyrrhos is the owner of Pyrrhos Incorporated, a multi-billion-dollar company that manufactures battleship equipment for the U.S. Navy, among other powerful clients and corporations. My dad and I don't talk much. He disapproves of my being bisexual, though I didn't exactly choose it. We're Roman Catholic and kind of conservative in the Pyrrhos Clan. I don't have any other siblings. As far as I know, I'm the only freak with powers in this world.

The whole world is always watching my every move. Folks are always walking up to me. Some guy even asked me to volunteer for target practice at a gun club. I turned him down. When I'm not in class, I keep to myself. Many people think I'm just some punk. Being a bisexual and biracial would-be superhero as well as a college football player isn't easy. I hardly see any playing time on the gridiron. My coaches and teammates don't like me much. They think I'm a weirdo. I don't use my powers while playing. So people think I'm lazy. There's just no pleasing the world. I have never known what happiness is, until I met Devin Wayne.

Devin Wayne is another outcast on campus. He's a tall, lean guy with spiky red hair and green eyes. He's the only openly gay member of the Men's Swim team. He's also the son of CMU Athletic Director David Wayne. His father is a living legend. David Wayne took over the flimsy athletic programs at CMU and spent the past ten years turning the school around. Originally, CMU sponsored Men's intercollegiate alpine skiing, archery, baseball, basketball, cross country, soccer, rugby, rowing, swimming, gymnastics, outdoor track, water polo, sailing, wrestling, ice hockey, squash, lacrosse, rifle, pistol, golf and tennis along with Women's intercollegiate alpine skiing, archery, softball, basketball, cross country, rowing, soccer, field hockey, squash, sailing, swimming, volleyball, equestrian, outdoor track, rugby, water polo, gymnastics, wrestling, ice hockey, lacrosse, rifle, golf and tennis. We're the top private school in Massachusetts, after MIT and Harvard, yet we've never had a football team. In 1998, CMU officially began fielding Division One Varsity Football. We soon became a dominant force in the New England Football Conference, beating local powerhouses such as Boston College, UMass Amherst, Harvard, MIT and Northeastern University. Ten years later, the program was still going strong.

Living at CMU could be quite lonely, especially for someone like me. Yeah, Devin Wayne shared the titanic burden I bore. He knew what it's like to be the offspring of a living legend and living a semi-normal life in the public eye. He was ostracized by his teammates as well. We became friends. Devin was such a cool guy. Like me, he loved comic books and action movies. I wish I were more like Superman. The whole world loves him. Why not? He's white, straight, and has a perfect life. A beautiful woman loves him. He's adored by billions. And his parents are proud of him. No wonder he always saves the day. Me? I'm just a guy trying to lead an ordinary life. I've never been a hero. Until I met Devin Wayne, and finally made a friend. We hung out all over Boston. He was the only real friend I had.

To Devin, I was just a regular guy. He was mad cool and also very generous with me. CMU offered me a full student-athlete scholarship for football. It covered room and board, along with four meals a day in the dormitory's cafeteria. My dad got pissed off at me for one reason or another and froze my account. I am flat broke. Rigid NCAA rules prevent student-athletes from working. So, quite often, I only had the a room to sleep in and the clothes on my back. Devin got me some cool gear. I stand six feet five inches tall and weigh two hundred and eighty pounds. I'm a little on the chubby side, too. Most stores don't carry clothes that fit me. Somehow, Devin got me some clothes that not only fit but also looked good. Folks, I loved this dude. As a friend. He showed me that it was okay to be gay or bisexual without being a total queen. My dad, whom I love dearly in spite of it all, thinks all gays and bisexuals are effeminate weirdoes who need to be kept away from normal society. He backed up Republican politicians who staunchly opposed Same-Sex Marriage legislation in Massachusetts. He even contribute to Governor Romney's presidential campaign. Me? I'm down with Senator Barack Obama all the way. I think he's going to beat McCain and become our first black president. Word up.

Devin woke me up early to vote during the Massachusetts Primary. I love the guy but I think he'd have made a great drill sergeant. Actually, he would have. He was in the J.R.O.T.C. back in high school. He went to Boston College High School. I went to Roxbury Latin Academy. We came from different worlds but he was my best friend and the brother I never had. Even though I was born on February 5, 1988, eighteen days before Devin, he was actually the big brother in our fraternal relationship. He knew everything about everything. He was actually the valedictorian of his graduating class at BC High. Me? I've always been a slacker academically. Oh, I always pass my classes.

With a B if I'm lucky. But I am not into much of academia. Unless you're talking about literature. I loved the writings of great men like Voltaire, Wagner and Nietzsche. If the world were filled with people who thought like Nietzsche, it might be a better place. I think he's totally misunderstood. There's nothing wrong with humanity striving toward self-improvement via any means available. Devin shared a love of Nietzsche literature with me.

He would read me quotations from Nietzsche's The Will To Power while I did push-ups on the wooden floor of his dorm. I've struggled with my weight all my life. It's something many men and women in this world can relate to. Because of my superhuman constitution, I don't get worn out easily. And that doesn't bode well for cutting calories. Especially since I've made Dunkin Donuts my second home when I'm off campus. My buddy helped me get into shape. I lost thirty pounds in nine weeks. How about that?

With Devin's influence, things began to look a bit less bleak in this young man's life. I pushed myself during practice, having gained more confidence as a result of my weight loss. I still didn't use my powers, though. I began to see more playing time. Once, I actually helped Tim Robson, the quarterback of our football team score a touchdown during the Thanksgiving Day Football game. I was his blocker while he rushed for nearly seventy yards and won the game for us against the University of Connecticut. We sent the Huskies home in tears that day. Yeah, life was good. After that, the whole team was treated to a spectacular dinner inside CMU Boston campus Food Court by none other than Head Coach Martin Shay. How about that? We had won our conference title from one of our fiercest rivals. I was having a good day. I didn't know that this would be the day when I would make my debut as a superhero.

While we were having dinner at the cafeteria, something terrible happened. A dishevelled, wild-looking middle-aged woman surged through the Food Court, brandishing an assault rifle. And she was aiming right at us. They say you never know what you can do until you've been tested. Well, today was my test. I stood up, and for the first time in years, used my powers in front of everybody. I ran faster than I ever thought I could, into a hail of bullets. Forget what you see in the movies. Bullets don't bounce off anyone. Not even a superhero. The bullets hit me. Everywhere. In the face. The chest. The eyes. Hell, they even hit my groin area. They didn't penetrate my skin. They didn't harm my flesh and bones. But they hurt like hell. Stung like crazy. Like a swarm of bees. But they didn't stop me. I rushed the shooter, and tackled her to the floor. Down she went. She was still flailing about wildly. I held her down until the campus police came and arrested her. In the aftermath of the incident, the campus was swarming with cops as well as the well-dressed and overeager men and women of the local media.

That night, on the ten o'clock news on the C.W. it was the hottest story. An escaped mental patient shot some football players on one of America's most prominent schools. The woman's name was Mildred Roark and she had been institutionalized at a state mental hospital after she tried drowning her daughters. She had been found guilty of attempted murder and sentenced to serve time in a mental institution.

Yet another whacko who shouldn't be on the streets. That day, everything changed for me. The whole world already knew I had super powers. But this was the first time I had used my powers in public in ages. I had been discouraged from using my powers. So far, my father's wealth and power prevented the government from putting me in one of their labs for dissection. But now all that had gone out the window. The whole world had seen what I've done. What I could do.

The power of invulnerability was my birthright and this set me apart from the rest of humanity.

My private life as I knew it was over. I mean, everybody knew I had powers but since I never used them, folks tended to scoff at me or downright ignore me. I was an average football player on the gridiron. I was an average student in my criminal justice classes. I lived in a cramped dorm, along with every other young man and woman who attended CMU. I led a normal life. In fact, a time came when I could walk around Boston without having people gawk at me. I was Mr. Average Guy. Many people thought my powers were a fluke which had gone away or something. Not anymore. The whole incident where I shrugged off nineteen bullets from an assault rifle and took down a crazed woman had been recorded on someone's cell phone and posted on Youtube. How about that? If the government had ignored me due to my father's contributions to the military industrial complex, they were certainly going to keep an eye on me now. My life as I knew it was about to be over.

Immediately after the incident, there was a media circus. I was surrounded by reporters. And cops. The campus police interrogated me as if I were a suspect rather than a hero. The incident took place around noon that day. I was taken to the police station and grilled with questions. Until a lawyer appointed by my father showed up. This I wasn't expecting. The lawyer was a tall, good-looking, blonde-haired and green-eyed woman who looked more like a supremely sexy supermodel than a legal professional. Yet she was sharp-tongued and clearly a master of her craft. Smart woman. I like that. I watched as she put the cops in their place and I was finally allowed to go home. I was so relieved I practically hugged her. She told me she had a message from my father. He was coming to town soon. Well, that was a surprise. He usually doesn't show up unless I've really fucked up. The attorney smiled and shook my hand. Her name was Stacey Wilmington, of Wilmington & Associates. I will remember the name. Folks, this lady just bailed my ass out of trouble. The cops were so hostile, man. It's like they wanted to lock me up even though I had saved the day. I returned to the campus, only to find a crowd of students surrounding my dorm. They had a lot of questions. So I ran. They were an eager bunch. But no human being on the planet can outrun me.

Where was I to go? I went to the only safe place I knew. Devin's dorm. I knocked on the door. Luckily, he was home. He came and greeted me, wearing only a faded green T-shirt and red boxers. But I didn't care. He looked good to me. Plus, it was mad cold outside, and I needed a place to stay. Devin smiled and welcomed me inside. I sat on his bed, and for the first time in years, I felt like crying. What did stuff like that always happened to me? I saved my teammates lives.

And probably my coaches too. Yet the whole world treated me like a freak. People were such ingrates. Devin calmly listened to me as I unburdened myself. He had seen the whole thing on TV and had gone to the police station to look for me. Of course they turned him away. I looked at him and smiled sadly. Devin smiled and shrugged. I clapped his shoulder. He was a good friend. As I rested, he got me something to eat. I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I had been unable to eat at lunch because there were bullets everywhere, plus one high-strung psycho. I ate the nachos and drank the Pepsi Devin offered, then I slept. I'm not a regular church-goer but I said a little prayer before sleeping. If God got me through this mess my life had become, I would never use my powers again.

When morning came, I ate breakfast in Devin's room. I really didn't feel like going to the dorm cafeteria. Too many haters there, you know.

I endeavoured to keep a low profile for a while, and watch what happens. My peace of mind came to an abrupt end. There was this chick named Joanna who lives in the room across from Devin's. She was a conservative Southerner from Alabama who really hated Devin for being openly gay. She had been surprised to see me coming and going from his dorm these past few months. Well, today, she crossed the line. She came barging in on us while I was about to take a shower. Devin was playing Solitaire on his laptop while listening to Linkin Park's hit " What I've Done".

I turned around, and saw Joanna. She was around five-foot-three, plump, with black hair and alabaster skin. Her heavy accent was even thicker than usual that day. If I thought she was unpleasant before, what came out of her mouth did nothing to endear her to me. She started with a hate-filled diatribe about how I thought I was all that just because I was a high-yellow dude with powers. Devin whirled around, and asked her what in hell she was doing there. I handled the situation. I told her to get her ass out of the room, or else. She stood with her hands on her hips and said there was nothing I could do to her. I shrugged, and heard myself tell her if she didn't stop bugging me and my friend, nothing on Heaven or Earth would be able to help her. She scoffed, and started saying something but I guess something in my eyes gave her pause. She said whatever and left, swearing it wasn't over. Devin closed the door and told her not to come back. I sat down and rubbed my eyes. Why did I attract nutcases? Was there a sign on my forehead? Devin apologized for Joanna's behaviour, but I stopped him. It was not his fault. I hit the showers. Hoping the warm water would somehow wash away that which sticks to me every day of my life. The stigma of being different.

I went to my Beginning Forensics class, and as expected, all eyes were on me. Did I get pretty overnight or something? I don't think so. More unwanted attention. Just what I need. I sat down and cracked open my book while professor Pete Garrett droned on about how the show CSI distorted students view of the forensics field. As a condition of my scholarship, I had to maintain a 3.0 GPA. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts University did not tolerate slackers. The CMU Foundation was worth twelve billion dollars and generously provided athletic and academic scholarships to deserving young men and women attending the university. However, they were quite stern and more than a little rigid. I knew many hated me on campus. The last thing I wanted was to give them an excuse to throw me out. So far, I was averaging a B-minus. Which isn't too bad. CMU is a refuge for Ivy League wannabes and rejects. Guys and gals who are smart but got turned down by schools like Harvard and MIT come to The Commonwealth of Massachusetts University to save face. Me, I'm lucky I got here. Dad wanted me to attend geek-haven MIT but I'm not all that tech-savvy. I want to join the Massachusetts State Police someday.

I've always been fond of the Massachusetts State Troopers. My mother, Haitian-American immigrant Alexandra Pierrot was one of the first black female captains among the Mass State Troopers. She was a cop's daughter and that's how she met my dad. He was speeding along I-95 and she gave him a ticket. I've never known my mother and I miss her dearly. Sometimes, when I was a kid, I'd imagine she was a superhero who would rescue me from the hateful world I lived in and take me to a magical place where everybody had super powers. A place where I would finally be normal. My dad doesn't talk about my mother much but I know he misses her. He's got a life-sized painting of her in his office. Plus, he's never remarried. Even though, at the age of fifty one, he was one of the most eligible men in the country.

As the professor went on, I looked around the classroom. I knew several of the students quite personally. To my right sat Luke Forest Chang, a very tall and slender young Asian guy. He was the captain of the men's basketball team. He was slated to enter the NBA Draft this year. To my left sat Annabelle Michaels, a tall, statuesque blonde with steely blue eyes. The captain of the school's all-new women's wrestling team. The first Division One women's wrestling team in NCAA history. When I first met Annabelle, I thought she was awesome. A tall, beautiful girl who was easy to talk to. She seemed mad cool. I flirted with her and even thought about asking her out. When she found out I was Mr. Super Freak, she let me down easy.