Short Stories

Batman's Best Friend

Warning: death

“Dude, you are such a geek.” That’s my best friend. Mitchell is bothering me about how “geeky” I am. If he doesn’t like it, then I wish he would just leave me alone. I know he would never do that though.

“What did I say about calling me dude?”

“Sorry dudette,” he says. “But don’t you think it’s ridiculous that you spent all your money and free time for a month making a costume just for a stupid contest. And don’t you think it’s too hot to be walking to the convention in a full Batman costume.” I remind him how important it is for me to win that Batmobile and how much this means to me. I also remind him that no one can see that I’m a teenage girl because of the world we live in.

    I knew I would win. The host has all of the Batman contestants lay down on these weird beds. We had to put our masks on so there was no favoritism involved in the choosing. I know that this is definitely a good thing. The other people at the convention got to choose the winner. They even put up an online poll about which was best. I won, of course. All the effort I put into my costume definitely shows, and it paid off. The host tells me to take off my mask so the world can see the new Vegas Batman for a week. I glance over at Mitchell, who is by my side as usual. No matter how “geeky” he says I am, I know I can always count on him to bail me out of trouble.

Mitchell is that type of guy that has the potential to be cool. He just chooses not to be. He is one of the cutest guys I know. Actually, I don't know many “cute” guys. So I guess he IS the cutest guy I know. All the popular girls in school like him. They've asked him to sit near them at lunch, which is a huge ¨honor¨. Somehow, they always manage to make me feel stupid. They interrupt our conversation and then pretend I'm not even here. What’s up with that?

Anyway, he could do anything he wants to. He could be friends with anyone. Yet, he opts to hang out with me. For that, we will be friends forever. Or so I think. “How about some pictures of this wonderful costume first?” he says. I wish I could always count on him; but as they say, all good things must come to an end.

    The shrieks after the unmasking are unbearable. When I reveal myself it is worse than I could have imagined. These people should be able to handle it. They couldn’t… You would think that men in their thirties wouldn’t be so sexist. Well, you thought wrong. “Who is she?” “Who does she think she is?” “She should be disqualified!” “Her costume was so good though.” “This is an outrage!” I think it´s was an outrage how immature these people were.

    As Batman for a week I was able to go with the police to all the crime scenes. I also got a replica of the Batmobile which I will treasure forever. As soon as I get my driver's license, I will drive “my precious” everywhere. Everyone is still upset that a teenage girl won the contest, and no one wants me to go to the crime scenes. They say I will be scarred for life. I go anyway, and see some really weird and unexplainable things. The cops try to hide stuff from me. Although, they knew they couldn’t deprive me of my winnings, they still try to make things disappear as soon as I walk into a room. I even hear a couple of cops talking about me behind what they thought was a closed door.

“We need to figure out a more successful way to conceal these things from her. She’s only like 15. She shouldn’t be experiencing all this stuff yet.¨ I want to scream at him, but I decide that isn’t the best idea. First of all, I’m sixteen. Second of all, I have experienced way more than a sixteen year-old should have; AND I HATE it when people try to conceal stuff from me.

After a few days of that, everything went wrong. Mitchell went missing. How could this happen to me? He was my BEST friend. I miss him already. It’s been two days. We have a plan for if one of us goes missing. I’m supposed to go to all our favorite places. He might be waiting there for me. When this happened last time, we  talked about why he wanted to run away and I talked him out of it. That kind of thing actually happens a lot. About once a month, to be honest.

On the fourth day, I had visited all our favorite hangouts. Except one. One of them had a sign saying not to approach dead bodies. What does that mean? It was probably just a prank. I was starting to get really worried about where he could be, so I went in anyway.

There are a bunch of bodies, but none are moving. I recognize some of them, but I am too scared to approach. What if that sign isn’t a joke? What will I do then? I walk around until I find Mitchell. When I finally find him, I run, hug him, pick him up, and say, “Mitchell! What happened? I was worried sick about you.”

Then he bites me. All of a sudden, I realize his face is decaying and he smells of rancid garbage. My realization comes too late because he screams and all the bodies start to move. It was like a battle call. His screech is deafening,  piercing, and makes me want to crawl up into a little ball. All the bodies surround me and are pulling me apart piece by piece. I wonder if this is how Mitchell met his untimely end too. I could probably just ask him myself. The last face I see is Mitchell’s as he chomps down on my head.