The hero, a boy of sixteen, sat in the alley by himself mid-morning just after skipping school. He had black hair, short on the sides and longer in front brushed forward and sprayed to hang over his eyes.
His eyes, ah yes his eyes….Like any good hero he had beautiful flashing eyes of viridian and brandished gold. But his eyes had a characteristic that other hero’s didn’t often show. His angry eyes. Hero’s brow was constantly furrowed under his hair and his token, flashing eyes held a deep hatred in them that no one understood.
This was the reason Hero was scorned and mocked by others. The others, seemed to follow him and fuel his fire. It was as if he was the sun; he shown bright but blinded, with the planets orbiting.
Now today he stood up from his perch in the alley and went to find a friend’s, friend’s, friend. Later that day. at the very moment the bell ending last hour rang, and the halls of the immediately filled, the heat of hate and blinding light burst from the central hall. Hero’s bomb of age old time, along with modern ingenuity set him free. And suddenly just as any star dies out, the hero, the sun, became a supernova and flashed out. Not merely dying out, but becoming a black hole and taking everything he hated with him. Just as any hero would do though, he realized the flaw in his character just before the explosion. His anger. He screamed as he realized it was too late to change, and tears would have streamed down his face……had it not been too late.
And thus ends the tragic story of Hero, a hero no one recognizes as a hero. Fitting the standards he hated. What a tragedy.