Prologue: Origin Story
Have you ever dreamed of being a hero? Maybe a superhero like Superman himself, flying through the sky of Metropolis, lifting a thousand times your own weight, having both the power to shoot lasers from your eyes and freeze things with your frost breath? Or maybe you rather be a vigilante like Batman, swinging through Gotham City, striking fear into the hearts of evil, having so many awesome gadgets? As a kid, I remember spending countless hours in front of the t.v and in comic books, watching, reading, and living through all of the heroes’ adventures.
I was there, standing beside Peter Parker when he was bitten by the radioactive spider that gave him his power. I was there, in the lab when Barry Allen was struck by the lighting that gave his super speed. I was even there, trapped in the cave with Tony Stark when he built the ‘first’ Iron Man suit. Unfortunately, I was also there for the bad moments. I was there when Uncle Ben was shot and killed. I was there when Barry’s dad was arrest for the murder of Mrs. Allen. I even felt the guilt of watching terrorists use Stark’s own weapons against him. Seeing all of these heroes, and how strong they stay despite everything that happens to them, inspired me to become my own hero. To design my own suit and gadgets and to fight bad guys and have unbelievable adventures. So that’s what I did.
Staring in the second grade, I would spend every recess running around and climbing on everything. Running and running, I would run from one end of the playground to the next. Climbing and climbing, I would climb up and down the playground equipment, rarely ever using the stairs. Testing not only my speed, stamina, strength, endurance but also my reflexes, I would duck and dodge past oncoming friends and would let go of whatever bar I was holding onto to see how fast I could grab it again. I spend almost every recess training, doing this over and over until the very last one. By the time I was done with the fifth grade, I could sprint laps around the whole school and still have plenty of energy leftover to climb to the top of the slide, no stair. And I do mean the top. With the stamina, speed, strength, endurance, and reflexes out of the way, I then move onto the next part; fighting.
Like before, I would spend every recess I had training. Knowing I couldn’t ‘fight’ in ‘public’, I instead shadow box and counter imaginary enemies behind some portable classrooms. Putting myself in certain situations, like me versus five thugs, I would think about what they would do and what I would do. Picturing one of them trying to punch me, I would pretend to dodge to my right and then hit him with a hard right hook. Rehearsing fights like this over and over again, for three years straight, I felt that by the time I was done with middle school, I had more than enough fighting experience under my belt and was ready for the next stage.
During the summer, in between middle school and high school, I design my suit. Going through pages of notebooks, drawing, and redrawing, I eventually give up and just settle on a very basic black ‘jumpsuit’ with what is essentially a ski mask. Spending the majority of my summer vacation practicing sewing, actually sewing, and buying a lot of bandages, I finally got my suit and mask. Donning them, I felt one step closer. Now, it was time for high school.
In high school, I discovered they had a welding class and took it immediately. Learning how to weld and shape metals, I made my weapon of choice, a pair of sturdy batons from leftover scrap metals. Similar to Nightwing’s but without the ‘stun’ feature. Nevertheless, I still like them. Anyway, after almost a decade of training, of running and pretend fighting, of sewing and welding, I finally felt ready. On May 5, 2014, I, Micheal Steven Peterson, declared myself ready. On that day, I became Thrill Rider.
A brave vigilante, protecting the street of Los Angeles against villains and thugs, and even evil dogs. A masked man who will risk his life to save the innocent from whatever may want to harm them. A young boy whose only fear is having his priceless collection of comic books destroyed, and who would also beat-up the person that destroyed them. For the record, I have spent years collecting them.
Today is August 25, 2014. My name is Micheal S. Peterson. I live in Los Angeles, California with my dad, mom, younger brother, and other younger ‘brothers’. I’m a bit taller than average, have pitch-black hair, am a senior attending Los Angeles High School, and have been the mysterious Thrill Rider for a little over two months now. I have stopped many crimes in progress, been in a lot of fights, have actually been chased by the police many times before, and surprisingly, despite all of that, am still having the most amazing times of my life.