In the Eyes of a Robin ✓

Who Knew?

          It's been a few years since we, superheroes, have made ourselves known to the world. Let me tell you something, though, it was worth it. Granted; everyone follows you around wanting your autograph, your help with a problem, pictures with them or their children, and sometimes to touch your hair. Nothing is off limits to them. I've had most everything happen to me before and still shudder at the mere thought of people touching my hair.

          I'm writing this for you, dear reader, to show you my account of what happened during this trying time. It's a bit of a thrill with a little bit of romance thrown in for good measure. Who knew that superheroes made for the best topics? I sure didn't, but then again, what do I know about superheroes?

          Now, don't find what I'm about to tell you alarming as some things might be different than how they are in media (I swear I'm better looking in person). That means I have an individual account of things rather than what the original author wanted for me. Who needs them anyway, am I right? Let's get back to the story.

          Imagine all the superheroes you know and love, now exist in real life. Are you imagining it? Yes? Good. What happens when they all get together to stop crime everywhere in the world? Stuff goes down, that's what. Everyone is fighting for the smallest of tasks. Even jaywalking gets you a visit from any number of superheroes who are wanting to teach you a lesson. Be wary of all your actions, though — you never know who could be watching.

          As I sit in my chair and type this up, reader, keep in mind that chaos ensues around me. I can hear Batman outside auguring with, who I can only assume is, Superman. They have this love-hate relationship going on. It's like their egos can't be in the same area without wanting to fight for dominance. It's sickening, in all actuality. I digress . . .

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          Dick comes into my room and sits down on my bed, causing the springs to squeak and dip at the sudden weight change.

          "What are you doing, Tim?" He questions, craning his neck over my shoulder to see what I'm typing. "You've been up here far too long. Let's go out and do something!"

         I sigh and swivel my chair around to face him. Running a hand through my raven hair and down my face, I muster up the best answer I could give him.

          "I like it here in my sanctuary. It's known - whereas - out there . . ." I point to the wall next to me, a place in which reality lives, ". . . out there is unknown. I don't like going out in the unknown unless I have to and that's almost never."

          Without waiting for a response, I turn my chair back around and continue typing where I last left off. This is where I ask you, dear reader, to look past all the errors and focus on the good that is this story.

          "Oh, come on, man." He whines at me. "Live a little."

         I pivot back around to face him, my annoyance for his presence increasing.

         "Live?" I scoff. "I live in comfort. There's only me, so there's no need to change anything." I sigh once more, knowing that he will not let it go until I give him. He's persuasive that way. "Besides, what did you have in mind?"

          He scoots closer to me, brushing his knees against mine. Placing a hand on my left leg, he looks into my blue orbs and smiles. He’s starting to creep me out, in all honesty.

          "What do you say about dinner . . ." Dick's blue eyes widen and sparkle with anticipation. ". . . say, at Red Robin?" He gets so close to me that I can feel his breath on my face, fanning my eyelashes.