A Superhero Stronger than Superman
Christopher Smith, a little boy, just like every other boy living on 46th Avenue. At least that’s what he thought, and mother, don’t forget mother. Christopher liked playing ball, just like little Tommy. He liked running, like Marcos. He liked getting all muddy, like Elijah. Although, his mom seemed to dislike when he came home covered in mud. He liked everything that everyone else did. Except for the girls, who enjoyed throwing their dolls instead of throwing mud. But there was Ginger, that one girl who the boys liked to play with.
Christopher was like every other eight-year-old boy. So then why did they not like him? What was the difference? When he first talked to them, he said his name was Chris, like his mother called him. But… when Chris told them his name they started calling him muddy. He thought it was absurd. Could they not hear him? There wasn’t even a speck of mud on him today. Then a few days later, they ganged up on him. Chris thought it was a simple game at first. You know? Like the ones where children would “fight.” He thought it was going to be fun…
He was wrong.
They brought their shovels and their books. Some took rocks from the neighbor’s yard. And that’s exactly where little Chris was now. He was laying on the grass, curled up in a ball. Nothing had changed. He was now seventeen. His mother had passed a few days ago and since then, the landlord seemed to have lost all of his patience. Chris was crying, holding his torn resume. If you could even call it that.
“You want to come inside? I don’t know if father would like that, though.” A little girl held the railing. Her skin was a peachy color, glaring off the sun. He got up. It was going to rain and he knew he should at least take his chance. He nodded toward the girl and she opened the door.
The house was cluttered but had its own style. He looked both ways before the little girl grabbed his wrist.
“He’s with someone right now, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” He smiled at her as she led him down a hall. There were pictures on the walls. Each was filled with tons of people, some of the frames would cover-up a few men. He couldn’t read the signs with long words but he could tell there was something important to them.
He stopped when he saw two men. One was stunningly dressed, wearing a suit with not even a speck of dust. The other looked more like the little girl. Though, they both seemed to be terrified when Chris entered.
“I brought my friend, daddy!” He smiled at Chris, but he didn’t notice because he was too distracted by the other man. He turned around, face now red.
“Fired…” The man said and the girl’s father looked disgusted as the man walked away.
That man was named Daniel Wills. Christopher lived with him as a brother, taking care of his little girl, Lisa Wills. He learned everything from Wills until he was left behind when Wills was executed for protecting the black.
The only thing Chris could say once he was proclaimed dead was “hero…”
And to all of us he is.
A hero stronger than Superman.
This was made by A Bookworm