Heroes arent real

heroes arent real...that was what i was bought up to believe...there was no masked saviour round the bend when you got cornered in a dark alley. no one to catch a crook when he stole your wallet. and no one to save your life when your left gasping for air.

my story starts out simple enough.scrawny kid with stringy red hair and beady blue eyes growing up all over the world.i was never normal.never meant to be anything other than evan mcphee. son of kathy and randy mcphee.

my family traveled the world.me,my mum,and my dad.my parents werent...what many people would call sane.at the age of twenty four my father gave up his job as a succesful banker.packed up me and mum.and set out of south africa. we spent most of the nineties their.witnessed some good and some bad.around late 95' we packed up the camp and headed for australlia.stayed long enough for us to make friends and headed for the states where we drove.days at a time.seeing everywhere from florida to washington.dad finally decided on staying in a small town near seattle.we stayed just enough to do some good.most days id come in from school to see strangers staying in our home. my parents saw themselves as activist,always moving from places to places and staying long enough to do some good.running soup kitchens out of the modest places we stayed.once i even remeber dad giving a man our bus.the same bus we used for many years.bonded in.at one point even lived in gone.like that.

then in the middle of 07'while we were in canada.a lady waiting in line for a few more scraps of food stabbed and killed my mum right in front of us.so normalcy was the furthest thing from my mind.

so here it is.twenty ten.three years after ive graduated and taken up a modest postion at a comic book store.i used to love reading those things.everyrhing from the amazing spiderman to the archie comics.still the same scrwany kid cept dad let me dye the ginger hair a brown colour hed picked out from a local market.same beady blue eyes that dared to dream.same scar on my leg from where the dog bit me back in brazil.just the same oddball id been when i used to sneak into the brothel my dad helped run when i was fifteen back in russia.the same brat who masturbated with school mates back in ireland when he was twelve

that was until he walked into sims comic and video games.he was like nothing id every seen.even the way he walked got to me. id seen a lot of things.but nothing like him

'you need any help'i asked trying to sound as if i were confident.i wasnt.

'yeah,im looking for this comic,my brother sent me on this wild chase all about for vengful vince...its about this guy who dies but gets bought back to life some dude named venom.. or something like that'he replied not taking his eyes off the stand.

'sorry about that mate..but i think your brothers having a go with you'i stated through laughs

'you know...your like the hundreth guy to tell me this'

'happy to be of help i said'returning to my daily duties. to which he just replied with 'zeke...my names zeke'as he extended his arm i got a better sense of him.he stood at most six foot.had curly blonde hair.and the most chilling blue eyes.'ive...never seen you around'he added staring straight into my eyes.'ummm,ive worked this store for around...three years' 'no..umm not here.this is the first time in here...i was talking about town...you dont go to school here' he asked 'no...ummm i kinda cant afford it' 'oh...that sucks..wouldve loved to have seen more of you' he said with a priceless smile that could melt anyone 'maybe you will see me around more often then'i replied as he snatched up my mobile and entered his number