This is from a writing prompt featuring nothing but a single image, which follows below the story. Enjoy!
by Brett Caron
If I’m being honest, I sort of miss the attention. At the time, I hated it. I was a freak—I am a freak. My face stared out at people from grocery store checkout lines across the world. I never really got to see those reactions, just the elated faces of grown-ups with pads of paper and cameras. I didn’t understand then, not like I do now. I don’t think they ever really even saw me, not really—they saw dollar signs. I don’t blame my parents. They needed the scraps of cash offered. I’d probably do the same thing if I had a kid that looked like me.
Now, I’m just another guy. Never had a date that didn’t cost me a welfare check and all my friends just call me by my “stage name.” The name that the world knows me by, even though not a single one of them really cares. It’s funny. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be normal. Now I am normal; I’m just another face in a sea of humanity, albeit an ugly one. My time in the spotlight is done. My moment in the spotlight was torturous and cruel, but at least I was in the light. Now I just have my tabloid clippings, half-faded memories, and the pain. I used to be something. I was there when the world wanted a Batboy, but those days are done.
Nobody wants a Batman; the world already has one.