LGBTQAI+
The Superhero’s Prison
A short story about breaking free
He walked the prison alley. Empty cells lined the left. Empty cells lined the right, mostly. The damp and musty floor squelched beneath his shoes as a drip-drip-drip sounded in the near distance. The cell doors stood open, except the one.
He made his way with caution. The prisoner had lived in this abandoned prison, alone, for 37 years now. He remembered the day it was captured. How could he forget? For it was the same day his powers revealed themselves and suddenly, he was no longer who he wanted to be. Suddenly, he was exactly who everyone else told him he should be. Must be.
A superhero… must protect the world. A superhero… must follow all the rules. A superhero… must put everyone else first. A superhero… must give their life.
A superhero is public property. They are owned. A superhero cannot have a partner. They are alone. A superhero cannot have children. It’s too dangerous. A superhero cannot do what they want. They are never free.
He remembers that fateful day, and so of course he remembers the creature being locked away in prison for eternity on the very same. Was it in the papers? He tried to remember, but memories were painful. Was it on the news? Something so significant and yet it felt like, no-one else noticed. It changed the world and the world didn’t even care.
He shook his head, it didn’t really matter anyway. It was sent here, he remembered that part. Sent here to be alone forever. That’s all that mattered. Yes, it had been here, alone, in this abandoned prison, for 37 years.
Alone, except for his annual visit.
Every year, on its birthday, he came here. They used to speak, laugh, and play. Its colorful flowing energy streams would wrap around him, hugging him, and he felt safe. Safer than any other day of the year. He survived each year for that one day but as each year passed, it withered. It spoke less and less each year until it stopped talking 13 years ago. It became less and less colorful each year, until all color faded 6 years ago. It played less and less each year until it stopped playing 3 years ago. It laughed less and less each year, until it stopped laughing, last year.
He made his way with caution because he didn’t know if it had survived another year. Could it?
And then, it happened.
A laugh.
He smiled. The beauty of the sound sent tingles through his body raising his skin in goosebumps.
The creature called to him and his heart raced, joy breaking out across his face at the resonance of its voice.
Colorful streams of energy radiated and reached through the bars.
He ran to it unable to hold himself back even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. Not at all. Never again. Never.
He threw open the unlocked door and fell into its awaiting arms. They hugged tightly. He felt a desire and connection between them so long in the past he struggled to remember its strength. But it didn’t matter, now.
“I’m so happy you came back,” it said.
He leaned back, a little confused. “I come every year,” he replied.
“Last year, I thought I’d lost you,” it said.
Oh.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I love you.” And it was true. Holy hell, it was true.
It smiled.
His smile.
It was time. Finally.
He placed his hand on the mirror and saw himself as he was always meant to be.
Complete.
I wrote this on December 21, 2018 as part of my ‘daily flash fiction’ challenge from the writing prompt: “A superhero finds a colorful creature in a prison but it’s a mirror.”
This is a great insight into the mind of an uncracked trans egg! Written more than two years before my egg cracked and I began the journey of realization towards non-binary trans-masc, I am reading this with a new understanding of self! Like, come on, how is this not a trans story, right?