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Masked

I stare at the mask in front of me; it’s dark and etched with gold thread. I pick it up with the intention of tying it around my head but pause; will hiding my cheekbones really disguise my identity? I mean, there’s still the rest of my face, eyes, hair, and voice to give away who I really am. It seems to work for the other heroes though; Superman worked with Lois Lane as Clark Kent and she still couldn’t recognize him even though he saved her numerous times, and all he ever did was take off his glasses.
But maybe the mask isn’t what conceals humanity. It could be the rest of the costume, no one would ever expect me to wear clothes that tight and underwear on top of my pants: I haven’t done that since preschool.
It could also be the whole ‘superpower’ thing, if you looked up the definition of ordinary my name would be listed as a synonym and my picture would be right next to it. No one would ever suspect I have an ability this amazing. That must be how Spiderman kept his identity a secret, no one would ever expect nerdy Peter Parker to have such cool powers. (No offense man, I have nothing but respect for you.)
I look back down at the mask being cradled in my hands, it seems so small and insignificant; powerless. Like I thought I was before discovering my ‘superpower’, but I have a purpose now; to help those who are powerless to help themselves in their current situation. And this simple mask has a purpose that is far greater than it was ever made for as well; it’s going to help me conceal my secret identity. Along with spandex and weird-looking misplaced underwear.




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