Not Really The Best Of Days
This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. At least, that’s what they say, don’t they? You only marry once. Of course, that means conveniently forgetting all the times people divorce and marry again.
Me, I would have gladly just eloped and signed our papers on some forgotten small town somewhere else. But I know Kendra wanted this wedding and, hey, I love her, so why not? We did agree we wanted it small, and we managed to keep it down to less than fifty people. Not that I have so many live relatives to start with, so it’s mainly Ken’s family and a few friends of us.
And no metas.
You know, it amazes me, on this day and age, what a simple mask and a bit of judiciously applied speed can do to protect your secret identity. Whenever I see the number of surveillance gadgets on any TV show I just cringe. I’ve feared for ages that one day I’ll make the covers of the papers, just not for the usual but because someone finds out who my real self is.
Until today, that is.
Because today you, you stupid moron, had to plan an attack on the waterside. Of all the days in the year, you had to chose the day I was getting married. And tell me, where the heck was I going to hide my suit underneath my dress? And what would have been the reason for me to imagine I was going to need it? But no, you couldn’t give me a respite; you had to attack.
You see, what really gets me is that there are real evil people out there. I haven’t told Kendra everything I’ve seen and done; I don’t think she ever will want to know. But I’ve caught, or helped catch, murderers, rapists and believe me, worse yet. Compared to those, you’re just a puppet. Oh, you have your powers, but you’ve never known what to do with them. You act like a bloody comic-book villain. From the Batman camp age, when they were ridiculous to say the least.
What I mean is I don’t respect you. I never have. You’re just a grown-up kid with a personality problem. I’m tired of defeating you. And today, of all days, you’ve made your last mistake.
I sensed you approach as we were just about to make our vows. I saw you soar over the bay, and launch yourself at the ships. The derelict ships in the farthest part of the port, of course. You are always so careful not to destroy too much or cause too many damage, so that you can serve your time and be back. Kendra heard me curse and for a moment she didn’t understand. Then came the first explosion.
She saw it and, bless her heart, she nodded at me. People all around were running away. So I did the same while she stayed back, trying to calm everybody down.
I’ve had to abandon my shoes. Damn you, do you know how expensive they were? And my dress, I swear that if it rips, if it even gets a stain, I’ll slash you open. And all I can do is hope I can be quick enough that nobody notices the bride-to-be by the waterside is the same meta that usually puts you out.
Man, you’ve really, really pissed me off this time. I’m gonna punch you out to hell and back, and so fast you won’t know what hit you.
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This is my accompanying entry for the Weekly Writing Exercise: August 29–September 4, 2016 on the Writer’s Discussion Group in Google+. I am responsible for creating the prompts for the Exercise, so I don’t take part, but I still like to write a story each week.
Once again I fell in love with this image as soon as I saw it. But it’s taken me the whole week to write my story. You see, I felt like writing a story that took its title from the image, “Don’t Let Me Fall”, and that talked about a man who saves a woman, only to discover she’s the one who’s saved him.
Instead, when I sat down what I wrote was a short story about a pissed-off, super-powered heroine. But I did like the bitter humour I’ve managed to sneak in; it was one of my objectives.
