This is not a Journal

(6)

Dear Diary,

So you guys already know who I am for all those loyal readers but for those scums who just read this part and skipped the other 5 parts; I'm Star Abott and this is my dumb (continuation) story.

We start off today with the delicate dance of secrecy and heroism continues. As 'Brightlight,' I'll just have to keep flying under the radar, leaving the spotlight for those who crave it more than I do.

As I step into school, I'm immediately bombarded with whispers and rumors about Brightlight. "What if she's in our class?" "I heard she's actually a girl." "Maybe she's some kind of secret agent, like CIA or something."

Yeah guys the wild imaginations of my classmates never cease to amaze me. It's like they've stumbled upon the plot of a thrilling spy novel and can't resist spinning their own theories.

But hey, let them have their fun. After all, what's high school without a healthy dose of gossip and speculation? As for me, I'll just keep flying under the radar, content to let the rumors swirl around me.(not! Why? well later parts)

With a day off from regular classes, you might wonder why I still have to show up at school. Well, let me tell you: I've got my sights set on becoming a back-to-back champion in the upcoming quiz bee.

No time to waste, so as soon as I arrive, I'm whisked away by my coaches to dive headfirst into preparation. Armed with knowledge and determination, we dive into the depths of trivia, ready to conquer any challenge that comes our way.

After all, who says superheroes can't excel in the classroom too? Watch out, quiz bee competitors—Brightlight is coming for that championship title!

Three days of intense preparation later, and I'm primed and ready for battle as we make our way to the school venue, anticipation coursing through my veins.

Entering the preparation room, I'm met with a mix of reactions from my fellow competitors. Some whispering, others casting wary glances my way.

But amidst the tension, I can't help but chuckle at the banter. ''Oh no, why is she back?'' ''Guess we'll lose again.'' ''Nah, I'll make sure I'm the one on top now.''

As we filed into the stupid room of intellect that we'll never use in our a******y lives, I couldn't shake the nagging thought of what might happen if crime decided to rear its ugly head at the most inconvenient moment. Call it a hunch, call it a curse—either way, trouble always seems to find its way to me.

Sure enough, as fate would have it, chaos descended upon the city just as the quiz bee concluded where yes I became back to back. Evacuation orders rang out, signaling the arrival of a maniac bent on destruction.

As we huddled around a nearby TV, our hearts sank at the sight of chaos unfolding on the screen. A figure clad in a menacing mask, reminiscent of Bane from DC Comics (yes i read comics), brandished a hammer, unleashing destruction upon cars and pedestrians alike. Panic rippled through the crowd as we watched in horror, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

In a moment of impulse—or perhaps sheer idiocy—I found myself slipping away to a secluded spot, hastily donning my superhero suit. Cue the dramatic music, folks, because this foolhardy hero is about to face off against a formidable foe, with the fate of the city hanging in the balance.

So there I was, soaring through the sky like a caffeinated pigeon, headed straight for the heart of the chaos. Below me, the scene unfolded like something out of a bad action movie—complete with the villain wielding a hammer and his lackeys sporting the trademark mask of The Striker.

Ah, The Striker, making a grand return to rain terror upon my city. But not on my watch, oh no.

As I "analyzed" the situation, a plan began to form in my stupid mind. It was time to get strategic, to outsmart these goons rather than charging in like a bull in a china shop. After all, confronting them head-on would be about as wise as trying to arm wrestle a grizzly bear.

So, I bided my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to "strike"(haha get it? because The Striker? Ok I give up). When they inevitably split up to capture hostages, I'd swoop in with my trusty 'light light, go sleep sleep' maneuver, just like last time.

With each flicker of light, another masked man fell to my cunning strategy. One moment they're menacing a child, the next, they're seeing stars—quite literally.

But as I whittled down their numbers, a nagging question lingered in the back of my mind: where in the world were the cops? Last I checked, this wasn't the season for a leisurely stroll.

Yet, as chaos reigned and the city teetered on the brink of mayhem, their absence remained conspicuous. What were they waiting for, a Christmas party invitation?

Nevertheless, I pressed on, dispatching masked men after masked men with precision and finesse. But as the final five—including the behemoth with the hammer—turned their attention toward me, I knew the real challenge was just beginning.

With the spotlight squarely on me, it was time to show these miscreants what "Brightlight" is truly made of. Brace yourselves, folks, because the main event is about to begin.

And I really need to change that moniker, it kills me when I write "Brightlight".

In the blink of an eye, I formulated a quick strategy: take out the smaller fry before tackling the big fish. But as I moved in for the attack, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of their unexpected arsenal—swords, shimmering and deadly, glinting in the dim light.

This just got a whole lot more interesting, and a whole lot more dangerous. With every swing, those gleaming blades threatened to cut through more than just the air.

But hey, no pressure, right? Just me, a bunch of masked thugs armed to the teeth, and a shiny new set of glow-in-the-dark cutlery. Looks like it's time to put my superhero skills to the test—and maybe invest in some better armor while I'm at it.

So there I was, dodging swords like a bullfighter in a china shop, when—bam!—one of the little fish managed to score a hit on my shoulder. Nothing major, just a flesh wound, but it had its perks—like suddenly feeling like I was seeing double, courtesy of a migraine straight from the ninth circle of hell.

But hey, it's just the one big guy with a hammer left, right? What could possibly go wrong? Famous last words, my friends.

As he came charging at me like a bull on steroids, I did what any self-respecting superhero would do: I dodged, ducked, dipped, and dived until I found the perfect opening. And just when I thought I had him right where I wanted him, ready to unleash my signature move...

*Cue the anticlimactic music*

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Turns out, my powers were hit. Remember the sword earlier? Well it's my weakness apparently (No I'm not gonna tell what it is yet you'll find out soon), leaving me standing there like a lost puppy, shouting 'HA!' into the void.

And there we were, locked in an awkward stare-down that felt like an eternity but probably lasted all of five seconds. Two human beings, frozen in time, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what had just transpired.

On one side, you had me, the supposed superhero, standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, wondering why my powers had decided to play hooky at the worst possible moment not knowing that they got lights out because of the sword.

And on the other side, you had him, the big bad guy with the hammer, probably wondering if he'd accidentally stumbled into a parallel universe where superheroes were just really, really bad at their job.

Anyways, a few moments later, his hammer swung through the air, I danced around it like a cat avoiding a particularly persistent mouse. But when I tried to summon my powers once more, it was like trying to shoot hoops with a spaghetti noodle—nothing but air.

And then, in a moment of sheer frustration, I watched as my would-be opponent crumpled to the ground, defeated not by my powers, but by his own clumsiness. Ah, the irony of it all.

But there was no time to revel in my stroke of luck, as he came at me again with renewed ferocity. I ducked and weaved, narrowly avoiding his every blow, but finding myself on the receiving end of a few close calls.

Dodging his attempts to squash me like a bug, I realized that for now, my best strategy was simply to play defense, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.

Until when I'm on the ground dodging just about anything until I realize how big this fella is as he swung his hand and grabbed me. All of a sudden I'm now in the air with a hand that as big as me.

I stood there helpless as he started to press his hand starting to crush me to oblivion. The pain was going up in levels at this point, I think half my ribs and both my arms are broken and I guess this is it for me until a familiar face showed up.

A familiar mask I suppose as Xavier made an appearance going for a hard purple blow on the big guy's face causing him to lose his grip on me which is good news at all until I realized I was so high up, I fell hard to the ground.

And at this point, I'm still shocked that I can still rise up and walk albeit in a lot of pain as I watched Xavier absolutely destroy the big guy's ass until he just fell to the ground hard. Yeyyyyy!! Xavier protected my stupid ass again, I know that I shouldn't have been a superhero, Xavier should.

Anyways, Xavier reached over me and asked if we could get out of here to which I politely obliged as we flew up in the air getting out of the scene just in time for the police to show up. Yes once the chaos is over, they came here. I could have used your help earlier thanks cops.

Now do your magic magic thingy again Xavier. Heal me up...

*outro music