Not all heroes are born into a prophecy,
Nor birthed with strength and the ability to fly.
When looking at them, what you may see,
Would be the normal frame of your average guy.
So, take care of your fellow man,
He may do great things and conquer high mounts.
For I will say it as plain as I can,
It is not the outside, but what's inside that counts.
"Hey! Get that kid!" A teenage boy giggled as he ran through the crowded grocery store, a loaf of bread under his arm, a gallon of milk in his hand, a candy bar clenched in his teeth. Too fast and agile for the heavy-set manager, Allen Davidson quickly escaped the store and ducked down an alley. He smiled and ran around a building, stopping behind a dumpster. He then unwrapped the stolen candy bar and ate it, enjoying the taste of chocolate. He didn't often steal candy, but the opportunity was there today, so why not treat himself?
He finished his snack and began walking again. A complex route through tight passages, over fences, around this dumpster and that, until he came across a locked wooden door. He outstretched his leg and gently tapped the bottom panel with his foot, causing it to fall inside of the ground floor of a long closed apartment building. Allen crawled inside and carefully replaced the panel before making his way up the rickety staircase to the top floor. The apartment was formerly labeled 4G, until the wooden numbers fell off, leaving behind the faded paint. The door set to the side as it fell off the hinges years ago, Allen casually walked into his 'home.'
He went to the kitchen and placed the bread on the counter, then moved to a small cooler and placed the milk inside next to a half empty carton of orange juice and a nearly depleted bottle of Mountain Dew. He looked at the inside which was mostly filled with water now, few ice cubes remaining, and sighed.
"Ice. That'll be tomorrow then. Hm... The milk should survive... Should." He shrugged and closed it. Then, he went to the living room. A small television sat on the floor, a rugged looking N64 in front of it with Mario Kart inside it. He took his usual seat in a recliner that had been left behind and turned the tv on.
He looked to his left and pressed the on button on a old radio. The ancient tv had no sound anymore, and Allen enjoyed having some noise aside from his own thoughts. He played his game for an hour, leaving the time at 9:46 by the clock on the radio which was 1:42 behind.
"Wow, almost 11:30?" He then yawned and nodded. "Yep. Definitely is." He smiled and reclined the chair, turning the tv off and reaching to the floor next to him, grabbing a notebook. He flipped through the pages and found one with a table titled 'Jim's grocery on 11th" and he entered another line, marking 'Milk, bread, candy" under the first column and "$7.24" in the second. He did some quick math and added up roughly $250, and bit his lip. He felt bad. It was over the course of 5 months, but it's still a lot of money. And that was just Jim's.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep, as he had every night since he found this spot 4 months ago. It was a little over 5 months ago that he left the orphanage he called home. Roughly a month of sleeping under bridges and the like, he finally found this apartment building. Sturdy enough, the former land lord could not afford to keep the building and it was vacated. Luckily for Allen, the city forgot to shut the electricity off which allows him to have his few electrical devices.
A simple life to be had, stealing when he needs to and recording every account with the intent of paying it back some day. Nothing special about him or his life at all... Right?