the one in which the hero goes after the villain

But it was raining, and I couldn't let him walk home in the rain. The kid is a terrible swimmer. He almost drowned two weeks earlier when I decided at the age of nineteen it was time for him to learn a new skill. So there was no way he could survive this torrential rain for more than an hour. He was no Eagle scout like me, he lived a sheltered life without a care in the world, so I pulled on my coat, got out of the Hulk, and went running into the wilderness like the super hero I knew I was, in search of my damsel in distress.

And after a couple of minutes of searching, I finally found him. Just standing there looking up at the sky like all his answers lied above. There was a strange calmness in the air surrounding him. While I was being soaked by the rain, it seemed as if every drop hovered above his skin, and slump off his imaginary force-field. It was a surreal experience, and one I hoped would last forever, but it didn't. He turned around with that stupid smirk on his face, looked me in my eyes, and then I found his fist and was greeted quickly by the muddied earth.

"Ouch!"

I should have stayed down. Every nerve in my body told me to. Every emotion, every thought, every memory backed up my theory that if I got up something bad would happen. But I didn't and I hate myself for that because staying down is the one thing I'm any good at.

When I was four, Little Susie Jenkins stole my glue and pushed me down a flight of stairs. I never bothered to get up that day. When I was nine, big Jessie McMillan gave me my first kiss, pushed me down, and said I had cooties. Did I get up then, no, I stayed down until my teacher asked me what was wrong. And when I was sixteen and had dreams of becoming the greatest catcher in Major League Baseball, Bob the Bulldozer ran into me at home plate. I broke my leg that day and a part of me died inside.I didn't get up then, and I never picked up a glove, so what made me get up this day I don't know, but I should have stayed down. I should have, but my hero complex caught up with me, and I had to save the damsel, but as soon as I picked myself up off the ground I found his fist again.

But this time my stomach took the hit and I ended up on the ground again. I laid there like a possum hoping he would think I was dead and would flee the scene, but he didn't. He just stood there, hovering over me, staring down at me with his cold eyes. I couldn't take the silence anymore, so I picked myself up and started screaming.

"I get it! I hurt you, you're upset! I understand, I really do! I'm sorry it ended up like this,but...just get in the car before you dro--"

But before I could finish my plea to him, I found his fist one last time, and as I slowly met the ground I saw him disappear into the darkest night. It was over, and I stayed down in the mud this time, while the blood stained water infected the muddied earth. I wanted to basque in my defeat. The hero was slain and the bad guy escaped to live another day. The hero was slain and the world continued to turn. the hero was slain...

life lesson number one: life is not like and episode of power rangers. the good guys don't always win.