Blog of a Teenage Superhero

Chapter One: Truth, Justice, And Drowning In Toxic Sludge

Ten hours of Chill-fi 'Human Music' above.

You don't need superpowers to defend truth, justice, and the American way. You just need a stomach that doesn't turn at the words "breaking and entering."

Take right now, for instance. I'm at the edge of the Silver Dollar Strip, where the city turns to gnarled tree roots and the moon sinks low in a sponge of gray clouds overhead.

"Monet!" Kai shouts in the left ear of my headset. "Finn's bullying me!"

"I am not!" Finn says in my right. Static pops, making him  sound like he's talking through a mouthful of bees. "He's so freaking delicate. It's like I'm riding shotgun with a....buzz buzz...with a...buzzzzz...flower. An orchid. A Cattleya Orchid."

Really, I'm about to kick them both. While they fight, I'm skimming my fingers over the dozen or so 'No trespassing' signs scattered through Silver Dollar's "forest" — a thin copse of magnolia trees—while taking care to hop the loops of barbed wire half-buried in the mud. Last thing I need on a "mission"—a splintered knee. And these two arguing and buzz-buzzing in my ears while I'm doing all my law-breaking. 

"He took my calzone! All of it! Just crammed the whole thing in his mouth like a disgusting slob! You know how I feel about him taking my food."

"You know how I feel about Kai in general." Finn huffs. "He's a pathetic, little—"

"Me?" Kai's voice cracks. "You're pathetic and little!"

"Yeah! Well, you're a jerky little emo brat, and I-I'm taller than you!"

In case you're wondering, no, I am not a mother and no, these are not my derpy kids. These are my friends. My only and I guess best friends. Finn, seventeen, the guy with the intel and Kaito, also seventeen, the guy with the Pizzastar delivery car.

"Guys, we're about to see a supervillain." Me, this time, as the trees thin and the signs slip deeper and deeper into the mud and finally disappear. "I'm not your mom. Cut it out."

Kaito whines. "Mon-neet!" I click off his voice and click on a ten-hour chill-fi playlist. For focus. With a clench of my notepad for luck, I stumble onto the overgrown driveway.

It's a cute little cottage, with a front porch and a swinging tropical-printed loveseat. The windows are boarded up with red shutters, its planter boxes filled with tiny star-shaped flowers. Quaint. Reminds me of the place Red Riding Hood's grandmother was supposed to live, all cute and nestled up in the woods.

"Shit." Nothing good happens in cottages nestled in the the woods. With a slap of a crowbar against my thigh, I crouch below the window and press my ear to the wall. A moment passes, then I hear low voices murmuring and laughing.

I rise, adjust my starched collar, and knock on the faded pink door. "Mr. Preston?"

Silence. I feel it' sudden presence with as much force as if it were a gunshot. I let go of my held breath; good thing too. I was about to suffocate.

"Mr. Preston! I'm glad you're here! I was texted an anonymous tip about your meeting with a Masquerade tonight." I flip open my notepad and fumble with the pencil tucked behind my ear. It makes me feel like one of the old reporters, the ones with 'Press' stuck in the bands of their hats. "As in, the villain Masquerade. The one wreaking havoc and terror. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

The silence is so thick my dubstep gives it a heartbeat.

"Okay, great. I'm just going to pry these shutters open and snap some pictures myself."

"Monet!" Kai's voice makes me gnash my jaw, because the soothing chill-fi zaps off.  I can hear the exclamation mark  slammed on the back of his sentences."You can't just break communication like this! We're on a mission!"