A Fan Till The End

I had always loved comic books, right from a young age the adventures of Batman were my favourite. Although the heroes were never really my favourite characters. I mainly loved the villains and would sometimes find myself sympathising with them.

I never thought there would be anyone like me.

Until one day, I ran into my favourite comic book store to get my hands onto the new edition of The Umbrella Academy. There were a few people here and there but mostly the store was empty. I noticed a man holding my favourite edition of a comic. One which really delved into the villains backstories. SO I simply strolled over to him and told him that it was worth a read. He informed me that he also seemed to have a soft spot for villains and he wasn't too sure why.

We ended up talking for ages about who was our favourite character and why. I was glad to have finally met someone who felt the same way and wasn't just some teenage girl who loved the villains cause in the movies they were hot.

We talked more in depth about character arks that should and shouldn't of been. We even moved on to other nerdy things. I connected with him so much. I forgot to ask important details about him. Like name and number. I still sometimes regret this. The person I went on to be with. Well. They never shared my enthusiasm. They never understood my need to keep my comics.

Eventually we both had to leave. I never did see him again.

Not until a good. 10 years later. He wasn't on the streets, but instead on a poster, playing the part of a villain. I felt pride swell up in my chest when I saw this. By now I had a son. So we of course went to watch it together.

It was good. The man was amazing. I connect a lot with his character. I never did look his name up. I liked him just as 'The Man In The Comic Book Store" there was something about that mystery behind him that made me happy not to know who he was. Of course to my son he was the name of the villain.

Often in secret I would watch the movie yearly on the day on which I had met him.

Of course. That's all gone now. I can no longer watch hat movie unless it is already playing on the TV, and if my new 'friends' are willing to watch it with me.

But its memories like those I cherish when I run my now frail hands over the many comic books I own. I still pick them up sometimes and my grandson reads them to me. For I can no longer read them myself.

Some days I am able to be strong enough to pull myself out of bed and get one. Just to look at. Just to remember the good times. Oh how I wish Thor would just break into my hospital room and take me away to Asgard where they cure me of the illness that is getting old and I live on forever. Or swooped up by Superman and taken to the best hospital, kept there until I was fully better and more likely to get stronger. Even frozen by Mr Freeze until there was cure.

Sadly, that's all fiction.

The doctors say my condition is getting worse. I long to be a teen again. Having not a care. Surrounding myself with fictional lands and heroes and villains. Not being in pain every time I want to read.

They tell me my Grandson and Son are writing a comic about me. Oh I hope they will read it to me. Maybe even publish it one day. Now that. That would be amazing.

I must admit that the future is not as it seems. We have not gone to space or been visited by another species. The earth has just kept on turning. The one thing that has changed which I am not a fan of is books. Its now all digital. Comic books now sell for great prices.

"Don't you sell my books when I am gone." I tell them. They swear not too. I know at some point though the comics will become unreadable and they may have to get rid of them. I request they burn a few of the copies I have two of and scatter my grave with the ashes. They promised they would.

I can see it now. The need for a hero. I never could see it before I ended up in this hellish place. I liked to make this place seem almost like Arkham. A place where I was stuck. With no escape. If only I was fitter. Or had super speed or strength or teleportation skills. Anything.

But no. All I had was my old, frail, sick body. Waiting for the time to come. For me to be free forever. Flying up there. With many people I would consider heroes. Like Stan Lee for a start. If I met him. I would thank him for making my life much more..... exciting.

I see it now. The darkness. Its coming in quick. I whisper a slight prayer that my superman would come save me. That I would be rescued from this terrible fate that was coming my way.

I hope when I come back I am some sort of awesome hero. Who saves people and runs around helping innocents. Even if I was the villain I would be happy. It just seemed, fun. Exciting even.

They say your life flashes before your eyes as you die. Mine didn't. All I saw were the pages of those comic books I had loved. The characters all coming out of them. Smiling reassuring me it would be okay. Soon I was alone.

The last thing I saw was the man in the comic book stores face, he had aged well.

"Hello again." He said offering me a warm smile. He offers me his arm.

Strength. Why was it all back? I moved towards him with ease. I was no longer confined to my hospital bed. I was finally free.

I took his arm.