A Flash Fiction Dedicated to Supergirl
I stumble through a door and catch my tights on a loose screw that is sticking out of a brick. I’m in a dark alley, it’s wet and filthy and I can smell Chinese food through my nostrils. It’s narrow and I can feel my head starting to buzz and flip. Stupidly, I attempt to walk forward. Instead, I crash into a mountain of trash bags. My legs are tangled and my tights now have ladders growing through them. I groan. Close my eyes. I cry.
There are bangs and crashes coming from around the corner. I open my eyes. My head lifts up. Before I can stand, a body is falling and screaming through the air across from me. My chest is pumping like a music speaker. What the hell? I can’t stop staring at the guy groaning in a pathetic heap in front of me. A pair of red boots step into my eye line. My eyes travel up a pair of legs, I see a red skirt, now gold and blue. The Girl of Steel.
“Oh, it’s you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the middle of- hang on, what am I doing? Sorry, again, but I’m a little drunk so you’ll have to bare with my babbling. My bubbling. Babbling. Blahhhh. Am I annoying you?”
Supergirl smiles at me, “No, you’re fine. Want some help?”
She offers her hand. That hand could probably crush my skull.
“No. Thanks. I can get up by myself. Just need to do it in my own time. Why don’t you get back to your crippling heap over there. He looks like he might need some attention.”
Supergirl walks past me, “Yeah, thanks,” Turns back to me, “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”
I glare at her. She holds up her hands, “OK, OK, it’s your call.”
She lifts up the guy who is still crying and attempts to drag him to, how the hell should I know?
I push myself up against the wall and lean against it. I throw up. I find Supergirl looking at me again.
“What? I’m a drunken mess, what do you expect?”
I carry myself forwards. But it’s a drag. The drag of continuing. Of existing. I can’t be asked anymore. I want out. I sob. Fall to the ground. I hear Supergirl talk but I don’t listen. Her body becomes a blur of movement. I hear more voices. Flashing lights. Then a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, it’s OK. Why don’t we get you out of here?”
I let my body be picked up. I don’t know what’s happening. Everything is narrower, fainter and so far away. I wake up in my bed. It’s soft and comforting. For a second, I forget my head is pounding. And the girl of steel is sitting in my favourite chair in my bedroom. I scoop myself up into my pillows. I’m surprised at how scared I am.
“What the, what the hell are you doing here? How did this- What happened?”
“It’s OK. I can explain. Just calm down. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help. I met you last night. I found you in an alley just off Jefferson Parade. Do you remember any of that?”
“No. Nothing. What was I doing there?”
“I don’t know. But when I brought you back here, you asked if I could make you fly. Do you remember saying that?”
“I…. No, it’s all merged together. There are images and sounds, but nothing clear.”
“That’s OK. It’s just, after you said that, you then asked if I could drop you once I made you fly. What did you mean by that?”
She’s got that face. Pity.
“Look, you may be the girl of freaking steel but that doesn’t give you the right to question me like this. You don’t even have permission to be here. I didn’t give you permission. You just let yourself in. So I want you to leave. Get out. Just get out. Now! Now!”
Supergirl stands and turns to the window, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your home. I just want to help. I’m going to leave my number here. Call me if you want too. I’ll be here.”
I feel a gush of air on my face as the curtains near the window flurry in mid-air. I lied. I remember everything. And I know exactly what she meant. I stare at her number for the rest of the day.