Nobody's Hero | ✓

~Batgirl~

~Batgirl~

It's nearly twelve when I finally roll myself out of bed and I yank the cord out of my stupid alarm clock that didn't go off at seven. Obviously I'm not allowed to leave this house, but it would have been nice to wake up before noon.

I slip on my polka dot slippers and trudge into the bathroom. I look in the mirror and my hair looks like animals live in it. I groan and grab my hairbrush from the counter. The entire bathroom smells of AXE and boy. Dad is long gone at work and, obviously, my brothers are at school. I tear the brush through my matted hair until it looks good enough for me to go out and grab the mail.

I flick off the bathroom light and make my way downstairs. The whole house is so quiet and empty. Which it usually is, it didn't use to be before mom left. She would sing and play piano every night. I wish she had of stayed, but she's always told me she has abilities to make really good decisions and apparently she had a gut feeling about this one. I wonder if dad misses her. I hope.

I put on a pair of converse and lace them up all the way underneath my pajama bottoms. I step out onto the still dewy grass and take a deep breath. It's one of those day's where it's wet, but musty and hot at the same time. I push my bangs behind my ear and start towards the mailbox. The little thing--I can never remember the name-- is pushed up on the side, meaning we've got mail. It's probably just stupid flyers or bills, like always. For a split second I'm hoping it's a letter from mom. But that's impossible. If she didn't have the time to call or text, she definitely couldn't write a letter.

When I reach the mailbox I sadly notice that they, once again, stuck it in the top one and not mom's. Oh well. I open it and pull out a stack of envelopes. I fish through them lazily. Bills, Bills, Fliers, Coupons, letter addressed to Irma Fleeke..

WAIT! A letter? For me? I quickly stuff the other letters in my pocket and focus on the one with my name on it. I rip the top off and pull out a piece of lined paper. It's folded up into thirds, so I unfold it. My eyes scan the letter and I can't believe it.

Dear Irma,

You don't understand how amazing you are. You're like Batgirl.

I read it over and over, but that's all it says. No name, no return address. Suddenly I feel like I'm in a cliché romantic comedy. But I go along with it. I laugh a little when I notice a tiny drawing of Batgirl on the side. Whoever sent this must have spent some time into the drawing, it's not half bad. I try to remember if Wilbur can draw..or even spell, but I can't seem to. I make a mental note to see when I get back to school. 

I close the box and head inside. I chuck the other letters on the table, but tuck mine underneath my pillow. I wouldn't want dad finding that, he'd get pretty ticked off, you know how dads are. I immediately send Nikki a quick text and cross my fingers that she doesn't have her phone on. I swear she loses that thing every week, I guess Mr. Clark just likes to steal people’s phones.

After a while of mindlessly pacing my house I decide to make myself some breakfast. I struggle to fill the kettle with water because William kept positioning himself under me. When I finally got some water in it I placed it on the stove and turned it to MAX.