After the blog from Ragtime Rachel, I threw this together in a matter of an hour. It's just a one shot right now, but may grow to be more soon. This is my attempt at a child, wanting to be more then he really is.
The lone hero stood atop the highest building in the city. Her keen eyes swept the city, looking for any sort of trouble. She had an ear piece that worked as a two way radio, plus a scanner that monitored all the emergency frequencies There were a number of powers she could call on. Flight was the one she used the most. It wasn't supersonic, she could only fly up to about one hundred miles an hour and her ceiling was just near a mile high. She had normal intelligence and only slightly above average strength, something a kin to Olympic weight lifters. Her hands could create concussive blasts of force, ones that she could shape and control, just not often. She was a decent fighter, having taken the time to learn several forms of combat, both armed and unarmed. And around her belt were several weapons that she used to her advantage. But perhaps her strangest power was the fact that she could illuminate herself. She could light up, into a big pink star if she so choose, which earned her the name of Starlight from the local press.
Her costume was slightly unusual. First of all, it was a bright pink, which made it almost impossible to hide in. Her face was only partly covered in a mask, one that stopped just under her nose. There was no cape. A run in with a large man early in her career ended that idea, after he used it to toss her around like a rag doll.
She was hoping for something to happen. The town had been quiet for too many days now. And her prayers were answered when an explosion pulled her attention to the south. She could barely make out the flickers of a fire in the distance and it was in times like these that she wished she had some form of telescopic vision.
Two steps was all she needed to get to the edge of the building, then she jumped into the air, letting her body free-fall for several stories before she took control of the flight and rocketed towards the sight of the explosion. Her ear piece crackled to life and she divided her attention between flying and listening.
“'plosion. First National Bank. Fire and police en-route.” A voice called out. Moments later, a second voice came on the air.
“This is seven Mary three. I got a ten thirty here at the First....” The voice was interrupted by the sounds of a second explosion, one loud enough that Starlight winced as she clawed at her ear piece. Just as she almost had it out of her ear, she heard the same cop come back on the airwaves, his voice filled with fear. “I got a two eleven in progress! Mr. Bad is robbing the bank, Repeat, I got a two eleven in progress, Mr. Bad is here!”
She didn't reply, but her speed picked up as she dropped to just a few feet above the street level. She could see the fires from the bank and the flashing lights from the police cruiser. In the hole of what was once the wall to the bank, stood a towering figure of a man. He was at least nine feet tall. A moving, talking mountain of muscle. Mr. Bad.
Of all the villains she had faced, he was the worst. This man had the strength and the smarts to make her life a living hell. He was one of the few to almost beat her several times now. He was the reason she no longer wore the cape. The last time they faced off, she had ended up in a private hospital, healing for almost a week. Thankfully her powers let her heal faster then normal. “Why couldn't it have been one of the easy ones?” She grumbled as she poured on the speed, reaching her limit and aiming right for her target.
She began to build up the force in her hands, a trick she had recently learned. She would build it up, almost to the point of being able to fire it, but instead she used it as a battering ram. It was there, even though no one could see it. Her mind shaped it into a cone that was about a foot in front of her hands, and she aimed it right towards her foe's chest.
Her mind was set and she braced herself for impact. The cone of force slammed into Mr. Bad's body, but something happened. He twisted at the last second, making the force brush past him, then he spun and grabbed at her feet as she flew past. He gave a stong yank and then swung her in mid air and slammed her into a building.
Starlight lay there, stunned as the hulking man loomed over her. “Well Robert?” He asked, but his voice sounded almost feminine.
The hero sat up and blinked. “What?”
“Robert, are you in there?” The woman in the drivers seat asked, a smile on her face.
The young boy looked around the car and sighed. ~Just another day dream~ He nodded slowly. “Yeth Mama.” His speech was slurred and he moved to look at her, but his movements were choppy at best.
“Well, we're at the mall. You coming in?”
“'Kay.” He opened up the door and swung a leg out, then he grabbed one of the two forearm canes that he had with him. He put it on and swung the other leg out, then picked up the second cane and took the couple minutes to stand up. He hated the fact that his mother always parked in the handicapped areas of the mall. Not that it was closer, but that people could see him walking from there and he felt that it made him look weak.
He had years of living like this, so moving around wasn't a problem for him. He could easily go from the end of the parking lot to the mall without a problem. He had grown quite fast at it too, despite the fact that his knees touched as he walked. Sure, he could have taken the wheelchair, but he had his pride. But it wasn't just his walk that embarrassed him. No, it was something more complex. Something that gnawed at him each time he was at school, or at the mall.
They entered through one of the larger department stores and his heart sank. There was his weakness. In front of him was the girls section. He so desperately wanted to just go through there one day, picking out the prettiest dresses and skirts, maybe even some nice shoes, but his parents didn't understand.
He had tried to tell them, but they never listened. He had told them that he just felt wrong in this body. The proper words failed him time and time again and his parents just too it to mean that he meant his disability. Only he knew in his heart what was wrong. It wasn't the fact that he had cerebral palsy, that he had made peace with. The real fact was that he wanted. No he needed to be a girl.
He knew there was a young, beautiful girl inside him, just waiting to emerge, but he was forced to hide behind the facade of Robert. He never had the time alone to borrow his mothers clothes, or his sisters. There was always someone watching him, making sure he didn't do something or get hurt, like he was still an infant and it hurt. Just once he wanted to know what he'd look like in a long gown, wearing pretty shoes. But Robert was the only face he was allowed to wear.
So he lived in his dreams. Be it a female superhero, or a cheerleader. Each of his dreams held the same thing. A young, vibrant woman, sure of herself and her place in the world. The one thing he could never have.
Comments
The Impossible Dream
If only the dream came true.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
The impossible dream
What a brilliant story and all in 1 hour.For a lot of us this is our life,handicapped by body,age or circumstances.This story affected me deeply,it just begs for another chapter or three.Congratulations and thank you.
devonmalc
Very Moving
While I'm a lot more mobile than your character (although not too good compared to five years ago; cardiovascular stuff; got my own little disabilities bus pass, and Crazy Larry's Discount Funeral Home on the speed dialer-) I can relate to young Robert; having my own impossible seeming dreams; and I found this very powerful & moving...
This story stands very well enough on its own; but if you do expand it I hope you don't give him superpowers (which somehow I don't imagine you would) but have him facing real life challenges and finding real life joys (Maybe a cute, understanding comic book nerdette, disabled in some way herself could inspire hope in him, be an example of the power of optimism and gratitude.) I'm assuming your Starlight and Mr. Bad aren't actual DC/Marvel/Whatever characters but products of Robert's imagination. For some reason I always like it when authors do that; maybe because I get all I need to know about the character in the story, and don't have to go googling about characters I'm only vaguely familiar with, all these crazy colored lanterns and justice leagues and different incarnations of the same hero.
~hugs, Veronica
We now return to our regular programming:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTl00248Z48
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As for his heros dream
It was just that. A dream, that chance to escape his disability. If I do expand, Robert, would find more to dream about then just heroes, but what kid doesn't dream of being up there with Wonder Woman, swinging around with Batman and Robin, or Flying through space with Spues. I am tempted to continue, but I need to juggle my other story too..
I am in awe...
...that you were able to craft a story like *that* in so short a time. I suppose that is what separates the real writers from wannabes like me; I would rework it to death and finally abandon it in frustration.
Little details jumped out at me, things that could well have been taken from my own life. The lack of privacy being a *big* one. I grew up with two brothers, both younger, both very much boys to their core. They were always bursting in on what I was doing, and I can only imagine their reaction were I found in one of my mother's dresses. (And I don't even want to contemplate what my mother's reaction would have been). Getting in them would have been a challenge, as I didn't even learn how to dress myself until I was eight, and getting dressed has *never* been easy.
Of course, like your protagonist, I loved comic books (though I've always been more of a comic-strip and animation geek, always coming up with comic strips). I did not so much imagine myself as a superhero, though, as joining the greats of the comic-strip field such as Charles Schulz. Cerebral-palsied people generally do not become cartoonists, so mine truly was an "impossible dream."
I was impressed that you even put in details like Robert's legs rubbing together when he walked--mine did this to an insane degree when I was in my teens. (My adductor muscles were too tight, a problem only marginally relieved by surgery later on). I remember having to wear jeans most of the time, since other pants would get huge gaping holes in the knee within a month of my receiving them (a definite argument for dresses, come to think of it, except I would then have scraped my bare knees raw). Jeans at least held out for a while. I also remember loathing corduroy pants, as I sounded like two washboards scraping together.
I do hope you can continue this, Raff. It has so much potential. I see Robert's fantasies dissipating over time as he is allowed to become the girl he is. The fantasies are a crutch (of the metaphorical kind) meant to hide not only the pain of his disability, but that of his frustrated desire to be a girl. Perhaps his being allowed to be the latter will help him accept the former.
Thank you, and I hope you all don't consider me a troll for posting what could be construed as a confrontational question. It wasn't, but a question born of innocent curiosity. It seems, regardless, to have generated stellar results.
You've put me on the spot, Raff. I'll have to write something now....
Livin' A (TG) Ragtime Life,
Rachel
Livin' A Ragtime Life,
Rachel
well i did cheat a bit
I used to write elsewhere and dabbled with a character that had CP. It was a play by email sim. The character was a friend of another and I dropped that character after a disargement wuth the GM, but I kept a lot of the info I dug up.
As for writing it in an hour, I mean I typed it in an hour. The super hero dream came to me as I woke this morning and the rest fell into place on it's own. Please don't feel preusurred to write because of me.
But thank you and everyone for the kind words. They say write what you know, I know nothing about CP other then what the internet tells me. I'm also not sure where I fit in the Trans world. So a lot of my writing is expereminting. I was worried i'd actually screw this story up, but I'm glad I didn't.
This is an excellent way to
This is an excellent way to show that everyone has their dreams; whether they physically or mentally challenged. Thank you for it.
Great Story:)
I'm glad that I wasn't the only one bitten by the have to write this bug. I loved the achy, hurt filled return to the prison of RL. It was so beautifully bittersweet.
*Great Big Hugs*
Bailey.
Bailey Summers
Nicely done!
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Me in my Starlight costume... sans mask :-)
"he lived in his dreams. "
"So he lived in his dreams. Be it a female superhero, or a cheerleader. Each of his dreams held the same thing. A young, vibrant woman, sure of herself and her place in the world. The one thing he could never have."
I lived in my dreams for a long time. Now I'm turning my dream into reality.
I feel like Martina Luther King....
....I have a dream.... I may not get to the promised land.... poo. Actually, I'm glad you drew my attention to this great story. It's really so powerful a reflection of what many of us live every day. And as it says somewhere, 'rejoice with those who rejoice,' aye?
Love, Andrea Lena
thank random solos, Drea
you never know what little gem will show up. (and once in a while, one of mine makes an appearance as well...)