I REFUSED MEDICAL TREATMENT ONCE THE PARAMEDICS arrived. I didn’t need it. I was perfectly fine, but Mr. Stripling was pronounced dead on arrival. I had no idea what I was going to say to Monica when I saw her. Not only did my weight cause the car to spin out of control, but I could have saved her father and I didn’t. The fact that my secret was safe because of that decision made me feel all the more guilty for allowing him to die. Was that why I froze? To protect my secret? Did I really freeze at all, or was I just telling myself that to make me feel like less of a murderer? I drilled the question through my mind as I walked down the empty dirt road and headed home.
I should have gone to see her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t face her knowing what I knew. It felt like she would take one look at me and instantly know I had something to do with his death.
The walk home took me about 45 minutes, though I could have easily run home in less than ten. I intentionally took my time because I thought it would help me clear my head, but the hopelessness that I felt as I trudged down that lonesome road was enough to almost drive me insane.
My mother was standing at the front door as I approached our house. The look on her face said it all. I could tell that PJ had been confirmed dead before she even gave me the news.
“An officer stopped by earlier to notify us,” she said through sobs. “His body was one of the ones that they took, but they found his backpack still in the gym covered in his blood.”
She was still talking as we embraced, but I was no longer listening. Two of the most important people in my life had been taken away from me and I felt responsible for both of them. If only I had been there to protect PJ. Maybe I could have done something. Maybe I could have saved him.
I fought desperately to hold back the tears that welled in the corners of my eyes as I thought of my older brother. We had grown far apart as teenagers but I still loved him tremendously. He was all I had before I met Howie and Jason. For the majority of my life, he had been my only friend.
The half smile on my father’s face made me want to rush over and tear his ribs out one by one. I knew I couldn’t stay the night. If I didn’t leave that place quickly, there was no doubt that I would end his life. I abruptly stormed past my mother and headed for the stairs. Phillip, Sr. approached me as I neared him, probably looking to offer his phony condolences.
“Hey, kid-” he started.
Just as he placed his hand on my shoulder, I shoved him hard in the chest. He slammed into the wall across the living room and fell to the floor as I stormed up the stairs.
In my room, I grabbed my backpack, threw on a black hooded sweatshirt, and stormed out.
I wasn’t sure where I was going. I just knew I had to get away. I couldn’t go to Monica’s after having killed her father, and I didn’t feel like talking to Howie or Jason. I pulled a black handkerchief from my backpack and tied it around my face, covering my nose and mouth. I took one last look back in order to make sure that no once was watching me and then zoomed away into the blackness before me.
RUNNING HAD BECOME THEREPUTIC FOR ME. THE FASTER I ran, the better I usually felt. I said usually, because this time it wasn’t working. I was up to ninety-three miles per hour and I still felt as bad as I did before I started. I continued to pick up speed as the tragedy of my day continued to weigh upon me.
Several hours later, I was still running. My runner’s watch fluctuated between 114 and 119 miles per hour as I galloped through the night. I had no idea where I was until I zoomed past a sign labeled: Welcome to Albany, GA.
I finally slowed down as I approached the city limits. Maintaining that speed for such a long time had nearly drained me of all my energy. I wasn’t tired at all because, according to Howie, my muscles didn’t produce lactic acid, but I was starving. I had no money, but did have a bad attitude and two fists that could smash through concrete.
I noticed a small corner store that was closed for the night a few blocks away. Despite our poverty, I had never turned to stealing food in order to eat, but in light of the worst day of my life, I was no longer concerned with moral code. I could see the security camera blinking on the inside of the store as I approached. Luckily I still had the black bandana tied around my face.
I pulled the hood of my hooded sweatshirt over my head and I wrapped my fingers around the security bars on the front door. The cold steel was putty in my hands as I twisted the bars and ripped them from the door. A straight punch shattered the glass door triggering the security alarm. In a few seconds, I was inside the building stuffing as many energy bars into my backpack as possible. I grabbed a few sports drinks and was about to dash away when I noticed a ski mask with a bright white human skull printed on the front. It was cool. Cool and badass, just like I felt at the time. Police sirens wailed in the distance as I pulled the ski mask over my head and galloped away.
I was miles away slipping into an alley beside a 24-hour pharmacy by the time the police arrived at the store. I pulled up my skull-faced ski mask and ripped open five energy bars, eating them all within thirty seconds. As I guzzled my sports drink, I noticed a figure dressed in all-black stealthily creep up to an SUV in the parking lot of the 24-hour pharmacy.
What do we have here? I wondered as he started to fidget with the driver’s side door of the vehicle. It took me a few moments to realize that the man was breaking into the SUV. Having just committed a burglary of my own across town, I felt no need to intervene.
After a few more moments, the man finally unlocked the front driver door of the SUV and quickly disabled the alarm. I found it odd when he closed the front door and slid into the back seat instead of driving away in the vehicle. Why is he getting into the back seat? I wondered as I sat down and continued to consume my stolen goods.
I was ripping open another energy bar when I heard footsteps. In the distance I could see a female approaching. I stood and sank deeper into the shadows as I watched her. She withdrew a set of keys from her purse and pressed a button on her key remote. A sense of dread washed over me as the lights to the SUV that I had just witnessed the man in black break into flickered.
My throat grew dry as the woman reached the front driver door. Do something! I screamed inside my head. You don’t know if she’s really in trouble! My skeptical side fired back.
I took a small step forward as she hopped into the vehicle and fastened her seat belt. She’s fine. She’ll notice him any second now and run, I told myself, but who was I kidding? He had the drop on her. By the time she noticed him it would be far too late. I knew it was only a matter of time.
I saw the silhouette of the man spring up from the backseat just as the woman checked her rearview mirror. I could barely hear the muffled scream.
My heart rate tripled as a glimmer of metal appeared within the ensuing struggle. I wasn’t sure if it was a gun or a knife but it didn’t matter. He had picked the wrong night. I was okay with him breaking in and stealing a few things that could probably be easily replaced, but there was no way I would let him hurt her. There was nothing I hated more than watching a guy harm a lady. Growing up, I had witnessed my mother suffer physically at the hands of my father almost every day, but back then I didn’t have the power to stop it. Without thinking, I pulled the skull-faced ski mask over my face and rocketed toward the SUV.
I was upon the vehicle in a matter of seconds. The rear driver door felt like cardboard as I ripped it from the SUV’s frame and tossed it aside. The assailant’s eyes were wide with fright as I yanked him from inside the vehicle.
Free from her attacker’s grasp, the woman unleashed a shrill scream that filled the night air. Her assailant also attempted to scream but he couldn’t because my grip was a fraction away from crushing his wind pipe. Onlookers poured out of the store as the woman scrambled out of the SUV and continued to scream and point as I held the man in mid-air with one hand.
The onlookers snapped pictures as the man drew back his left hand and prepared to plunge his six-inch knife into my neck.
I don’t kn
ow why I didn’t try to stop him from stabbing me. Perhaps I considered it a way out. I had atoned for letting Monica’s father die by saving the lady, so maybe I thought that ending it all would be a fitting conclusion to my tumultuous train wreck of a life. I held my breath as the man thrust the knife toward my neck.
The loud snap that the blade made as it broke in two yanked me back to reality. It wasn’t painless. It hurt like hell but it didn’t even break my skin. I should have known that would happen considering my extremely dense physiology. Not only were my bones and muscles abnormally dense, but my skin was apparently as tough as Kevlar.
Police sirens wailed in the distance as my fingers dug into the mugger’s neck threatening to snap it. The surrounding crowd cheered and continued to film as I flung the man into the pharmacy. I threw him with such force that he shattered the colossal glass door and landed several feet inside of the store.
“Who are you?!” one man shouted at me from within the crowd.
“Are you a superhero?!” another bystander yelled.
They continued to pelt me with questions as I peered at them through the skull-faced ski mask. I didn’t know what to say. My head was spinning and the sirens were closing in by the second.
“You saved that woman. Dude, you’re a hero, man! You’re a superhero, man! Tell us who you are!”
I don’t know what came over me but I looked directly at a guy as he recorded me on his cell phone.
“I’m The Reaper,” I barked in a gruff voice that I had never used before that night. The crowd erupted into greater hysteria as I leapt 40 feet into the air and landed across the street. I was speeding away at over 120 miles per hour before they could even attempt to follow me.