I have never thought of myself as a hero.
In fact, I'm more likely to be called a coward.
But, like all men, I've always had that fantasy. That desire, that when the world collapses, I would rise.
I would rise above them and show them I was not inferior. I was not the punching bag that they used me as.
Today is that day.
I know it because there's a burning sensation. I don't feel weak. I don't want to crawl into a hole and die.
My bones ache with what I can only describe as divine purpose.
So for the first time, I get out of bed with a smile on my face. I stretch, unconsciously preparing for whatever is coming today.
I look around my room. My bed sits in the left corner of it, and my closet is on the opposite side. Next to my closet door is my backpack. Adjacent to the closet door is the actual room door. I keep it locked at all times.
I slip into a t-shirt with a Nirvana graphic on it, before taking it off. No, it doesn't feel right for what's ahead. I don't know what's ahead, yet I know a thick hoodie is better. It's winter, and so it will be better anyway.
I slip clothes into my backpack. I'm not going to school, nah, tonight is New Year's Eve.
It is here that I finally check the clock across the room. It's 6 pm. Everyone is about to come over, and I realize I need to speed up.
The last thing I want to do is be in the house after my parents have spent all night drinking.
So I check under my full-sized bed, looking for the bag of matches and other utilities I keep. It's still there. I go near the floor and grab it from under. Then I check under my pillow for the knife I keep there.
I dump all the survival gear into the backpack and grab a belt for my jeans. I attach the knife holster to it with a rope and slip the knife in the holster. I move with ease towards the window when I hear my doorknob being fiddled with.
Knowing it could be anyone, I put my bag under the bed and jump towards the door. I put my hand on the knife holster's latch.
I open the door and see my half-sister standing there. Despite being two years younger, she knows nothing about her existence.
"They are yelling again. It looks like everyone canceled on the party."
I know my face is a face of pity, but I can't fix it. I pity the poor creature born of rape. Yet it is not pity that motions for her to come into the room. I know that, and so I grab the bag I keep for survival equipment and hand it to her.
"Come on. I don't want to deal with those two; just follow me."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because unless you'd like your ass beat, I'd come with me."
"Why would-"
I open the window and jump out. If she follows, it's her choice.
She never gets beaten, and it's because I'm there. I know this because the one time I wasn't home after they'd drunk, they did beat her. They beat her so badly, she can't remember. I ignore my hatred for my mother's choice in men and feel the air wash over my face.
The air is cool, but it is Arizona, so there is no snow. I envy those who have snow in winter. I walk down the sidewalk and move towards the liquor store on the corner.
I don't dislike the neighborhood. It's boring, and there's nobody ever outside of their homes, except to go somewhere else. I've lived my entire life in it, and I begin to wonder what life would have been like if I lived somewhere better.
Ultimately, I know I'll never know. But that never satisfies my mind.
For a few minutes, I stay in silence and walk slowly. I know one thing: something is going to happen tonight. It's just that I do not know what.
My silence leads me to think about where to go. Then I hear a scream.
My name rips out of my half-sister's mouth, "Raul!"
I turn to see my half-sister running at full speed in her tracksuit. However, it is not her that attracts my attention. It is the massive six-legged, bare-skinned spider-like creature that shatters through my house's wall.
I watch in terror as it gains on my sister in a single, quick leap. The knife at my side seems to burn through its holster. I don't care, though. I run forward quicker than I thought possible.
My half-sister jumps and rolls onto the ground and then away from the creature's fast-moving head. I run even faster, and it is then that I feel the knife burn my skin.
I look upon it and see it has increased in size and glows. My shock is quickly overrun by terror as I move out of the way of the monster's head. I cut towards its nearest leg and watch as bright orange light rips through its leg.
I look up to see it staring me straight in the face. A massive bone protrusion is moving out of its head. How had I not seen that? Any man could have seen that.
A foot flies into the monster's head, jarring it sideways. I take that chance to move out of the way. I see one of its arms moving towards my half-sister, and I move faster than I've ever done.
My muscles ache with exertion that I've never forced them to undergo. My face gets hit with the air as it parts around me. I know that we are going to survive this.
I'm certain, especially as I rip through the limb and spin around. My muscles are straining, and I can feel my brain ignoring the pain. But I push through, and for a split second, I witness something.
I see a dimly lit sphere, an orange sphere. However it grows, and it grows brighter.
My body becomes light, my mind relaxes, and I move with swiftness. I part the air before slicing the neck of the monster clean in half. The coolness in my body dissipates as quickly as it came.
My lungs tighten, and I feel myself struggling to breathe. I gasp. It's so painful.
I watch in horror as something crawls from above the dead beast and approaches my sister. It's human, but I can't confirm it. I can't see through my newly spotty vision, so I reach out.
I don't know what it is. It crawled from atop the beast; it can't be good. Yet there is nothing I can do. So little in fact, I drop onto the ground, my vision goes black.