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  • Writer's pictureAntonio Monge


5:00 AM Monday Morning.

Waking up. Goddammit. If I have to wake up to “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” one more time I’m calling child services. Uncle Dudley thinks he’s hilarious, switching my alarm out for his old-people music but what he doesn’t know is I slipped one of Tawky’s laxatives into his coffee grounds. Looks like we are both going to be up early today...We are a terrible influence on each other. Alright time for morning show with Billy Batson, featuring, Sonny the toothbrush and Cole the toothpaste and of-course, making a special returning guest appearance, crippling anxiety and stress!

7:30 AM Arriving at school.

I can’t believe I even still have to go to school. I’m a freaking superhero...Not that anyone knows that. That girl over there is looking at me funny...Does she know my secret? HOW DOES SHE KNOW MY SECRET?! Is she a super villain? Is everyone here a super villain? Shit is she gonna take a laser cannon out of that backpack and blast me before I can say- ...I have maple syrup on my shirt. She’s now giggling with her friends about the weirdo with stains on his shirt who just spent 30 seconds dead-ass staring at her. Middle-School can eat my entire butt.

9:00 AM Second Period.

History. Who thought it was okay to schedule a history class at nine in the freaking morning. Don’t they know some of us were up late because some alien-caterpillar decided to attack the mall with a giant robot? Wait...Did he just say pop quiz? Shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT. Today seriously cannot get any worse.

12:30 PM Lunch Break.

Today got worse. Mary is out sick or something so I have to sit by myself, like a fucking weirdo. You know what’s the fucking worst thing about middle-school? It’s not the teachers or the homework or even the amount of absolute garbage kids no. It’s the bagged milk. What even...What is this? Who puts milk in a bag? Like I know the school board doesn’t give a single-crap about us but like...Someone had to design this. A plastic bag for...Milk. A milk bag. A sloshy, gooshy, pouch that you don’t know how to hold, that condensates way too much, that you have to open with your freaking teeth and pray to the gods of self-preservation that you don’t end up taking a milk-bath on the quad. It’s literally the worst thing on the planet and whoever designed it deserves to die alone. They were out of strawberry milk...

2:00 PM Sixth Period. Geometry.

I...what do you want me to say? Did you expect me to say something good about MATH??

2:59 PM Sixth Period. Geometry.

49...48...47...come on come on come onnnnn.

3:00 PM Sixth Period.


3:30 PM Time to clock on.

Most kids complain about having a day-job. I totally get it, mowing someone’s lawn for 3 hours only to get barely enough money to buy a comic book must suck. I can sympathize but I fucking love my day-job. Shit don’t tell Dudley I cussed...Shit I cussed again. FUCK. I get why kids don’t wanna work after school we are cooped up for what feels like eternity only to be spat out with homework that’s gonna take all our free time, and then some of us have to go to a job to spend what little time we have left on this earth? It’s horrible, I know...Not for me though. Granted most kids don’t have a day job as awesome as mine.


Everytime I say that word it feels like the first time. The Sky darkens around where I stand, as if the universe itself is planting a crosshair right on my forehead. The small pool of shade that surrounds me sends a chill down my spine, rain droplets begin to patter my face, I don’t bat them away though, they are just inviting me into their embrace. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up as the static tickles my skin. Then, the sky opens up, the clouds part just enough, and there it is.


A surge of pure light, a dagger of power stabbing straight into me. A massive stupendous lightning bolt that slices its way straight into my chest causing ribbons of electricity to snake from me, singeing the grass beneath my sneakers.

This is the shit.

Goodbye Billy Batson, I’ll be seeing you later tonight, I give one last toothy grin to the heavens before the lightning consumes me.

Smoke surrounds me as I hear the drums of the gods play for me in the sky above. The thunder calls my name and beckons me to stand.

I raise from my knees, my eyes crackling with the storm. My cape billowing as if a breeze flows through it yet the air around me is still, as if moving only at my command.

3:35 PM.

Captain Marvel takes to the skies.

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