Ugly Past

When people stop and look at me, they see that person on television. They see the great hair, the muscles, the smiling face. They see the version of me that has been created, manifested and molded into the hero that they all praise. They see me as some symbol of hope, a "Superman" of their time. What they don't see, is the version of me that I was before. The version of me that no one would want. 

In the beginning, I was an orphan. I had been abandoned at birth and the people who adopted me were good at first, happy to have a baby. Once I was about 5 years old however, things drastically changed. My foster father died in a car accident and the man that replaced him was a nightmare. He was a belligerent drunk, beating on my mother and I. Multiple times, we ended up in the hospital and my mother, a sad sap who wouldn’t even protect her own child, would just defend him and take me back home. It wasn’t until I was 14, that I was strong enough to fight back. I had spent my entire summer break, not just avoiding home, but exercising. I would run and lift anything I could to gain my strength and it was in this time that I realized something strange about myself. I seemed to have the ability to lift more than a regular person. I knew I was stronger than the other kids, but this time it really shined through and when this strength was realized, I was ready for revenge. I went home that one Wednesday evening and it was showtime as I walked through the door. 

I walked into my living room once again, hearing my mother’s begging cries. The bastard was standing over her, she was bloody and bruised and this time her shirt was ripped. Knowing what he was about to do, I went for it, grabbing him by the arms and shoving my shoe into his back. I pushed as hard as I could and ripped both arms out of their sockets. He was screaming in pain on the floor and my mother watched as I stomped on him. I flipped him over, grabbed him by the hair, pulled his ugly face really close to mine and told him,

“Leave and don’t ever look back. Don’t tell anyone what happened to you either, or it will be worse.”

That horrid look on his face as he limped out of the house was the best thing I ever saw, but the look on my mother’s face was not satisfying. Instead of being happy that we were free from that monster, she looked at me like I was the monster. I took the money from my pocket that I had pick pocketed previously, threw it on the ground in front of her, and told her “you’re welcome,” before walking out the door. I didn’t look back either.

I walked and hitch hiked as far as I could, gambling for money and sometimes spending it on drugs to get me by, until I stumbled into New York. Once here, I officially changed my name, locked up those records, and left my old life behind. Or at least I tried. 

Things really took a change when I rescued someone. I found out then, that I was super fast too, almost inhumanly fast, and with this power, I pulled a kid from in front of a car. After saving his life, I realized I had an audience. People applauded what I had done. Marveled at my speed. I admit it, the power got to me a little. No one had ever complimented me or gave me any positive attention in years. Sitting here as a 16 year old now, I am faced with a new beginning. 

The police chief hired me on the spot, wanting to use me for my ability. I showed off my super speed and strength, being some kind of marvel to the people around me, and this was how I got my stage name. Lightning. I thought it was strange, being that I was only fast and strong, but people ate it up and chanted it for days. I was ok with it I guess, being better than giving my real name out, or even my new alias. I still had some things to hide however. 

After each work day, I would sit in my apartment and stare at the ceiling. I still wake up to the sound of slamming doors, yelling and hearing my mother’s voice. Echoes of my past haunting me, I didn’t sleep well, which in turn made me reliant on sleeping pills. I liked my new job, new life, but at the same time, the attention was exhausting. Some days, I just wished everything would go quiet and I would question the idea of taking more sleeping pills. My problem was, in a way, I had finally found a purpose and I liked the attention of being better. Better than my stepfather, better than my mother and better than my former self. I stayed off of the other drugs, but sometimes I would think about them too. 

So I put in my time at work each day, but I was mostly there for my abilities. In different situations, and especially as busy as New York was, I found myself running and rescuing all day. The police trained me as well, allowing me to have better fighting and gun skills and I really enjoyed the training programs. It kept me in shape and allowed me to catch the bad guys with no problem. Even in a shootout, I could run past bullets and catch guys with no weapon needed. Everything was looking up for me, until the next perp. 

We got a word in on a crack house and when we investigated and busted in, one of the guys arrested had a familiar face. My damn stepfather. He looked at me a few times and even strung out on drugs, I could see the fear in his face. What are the odds? He kept silent when interrogated and I offered to have some one-on-one time with him for some answers. I explained to my chief that I wanted privacy too, and since I was a prodigy, he let me do what I wanted. 

With my step douche sitting in front of me, he looked like a deer in the headlights. I just sat there, staring at him, almost daring him to open his mouth. To my surprise, and after about 10 minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

“I’m glad to see you turned out better than me, especially after what a piece of shit I was.”

I just stared at him still, not wanting to listen, but also being curious. 

“If saying I’m sorry would change anything I would, but after the way I treated you and your mother, I deserve no mercy. I know I’m a low life and I won’t deny it.”

We sat in silence for a bit before he spoke again.

“I will tell them who I got the drugs from and I will do my time, but I did want to tell you that I am sorry for the way I was. I had a bad childhood that ate me up and it wasn’t until you kicked my ass that day, that I realized how much I needed to turn my life around. I still messed it up, but I never went back to you or your mother because you asked me not to.”

I thought to myself for a minute, some back part of my mind still burning with rage, but the new me was sitting still and ready to look my problems in the face. 

“You should turn yourself around and going back to her probably wouldn’t hurt. She could probably use you right now.”

He lifted his eyebrows and I stared at him still, a bit more sympathetic this time. He just nodded slightly and stared in the distance at some far off memory. I decided I had enough and left the room, telling the chief that I was taking a few days off. He had no problems with this and I went to my apartment.

When there, I packed a few quick clothes and walked out the door. After hearing his words and my own in my head, I decided that I needed to stop acting stupid and go see my mother. This time I had a car of my own, able to drive, and I took the road back to my hometown. Not much had changed, and it was a decent several hour drive, but I pulled up to my old house. It still looked at dumpy as ever and I could tell it was abandoned. I stood on the old porch, thinking about my biological father and smiled at the good times. Then suddenly, an old lady was next to me, making me jump out of my skin. I instantly recognized her as our old neighbor.

“Goodness boy! You have grown so much.”

“Thanks. It’s good to see you too Ms. Tilly.”

“Your mother moved out years ago. I heard she married another man and is doing well now. If you want to see her, she works at the library down the street. Do you want to stay with me until tomorrow? I still make a mean apple pie.”

I thought about getting a hotel, but Ms. Tilly was a nice and lonely old woman, so I took her up on her offer. She still made an awesome pie and the next morning I took off to the library she told me about. I waited in the parking lot until it opened and there she was, unlocking the door.

I walked up to her slowly, not wanting to freak her out, since the last time she saw me was in a bad situation and I could tell from her demeanor that she was better. She was fuller, healthier looking, so the guy she met must have been a good one. She turned towards me, and at first didn’t recognize me.

“Good morning sir! I was just opening up.”

She said this as she turned around and stopped in her words. The reflection in her eyes was fearful for a moment, but became warmer. To my surprise, she jumped into my arms almost crying.

“Thank goodness you are alright! Where have you been? You leaving like that had me terrified!”

I managed to calm her down and I could tell she was mad and happy at me. I told her about my life and what it had become and she definitely seemed to be proud. This was a new feeling for me.

“I’m glad to hear that you are doing well, but would it have killed you to call me?”

“I’m sorry mom. Things were so messed up, I figured you didn’t want anything of the past to come back.”

“Nonsense honey. Your step father can go fall off a cliff somewhere, but you are my only son and having you back is more than anything I could ask for. My husband is a wonderful man who you would’ve liked.”

We kept talking for a while, catching up and before I knew it, I knew I had to get back. We promised to talk more often and I told her that I would get back with step douche and tell him to not bother. I didn’t want him coming back into her life after all. He had his shot and messed it up and here I thought that maybe they could have another shot, if he actually changed. But she was happy now and seeing her smiling face again, gave me a new glow about myself. I returned back to my new home and job, and even started keeping up with the step douche, becoming close with his parole officer so we could both keep him in check. She ended up being a really awesome lady herself and we get to have our first date this weekend. 

So yeah, they see this hero, this “Superman” and they won’t see any of the ugly past I have. Too many good faces relying on me for help and protection. For the sake of the people and my new life, the past was in the past and would stay that way, so I could take a part in paving a better tomorrow.