20 pack of top ramen chicken, bottom shelf. Top shelf was complete with boxes of Mac and cheese. An image of Spider-Man noodles printed on the front of the boxes.

My mind started to wander to when I would go to the movies, the story would enthralls me. When I step out of the theatre, the scent of fresh air removes the smell of overly butter popcorn and m from my nostrils. I didn't feel real anymore. I felt like I was pulled from my reality, into a new one. I walked taller, my brain tangled in the thoughts that tied me to that universe. I knew the secrets, the plot, my mind race with the opportunity to be the hero or villain.

Then. Reality sinked back into my bones. My pores soaked in the after thought of being apart of something more than my meager somewhat above minimum wage job. It was always when my finger tips scrapped against the shelves I restocked that set it back in motion.

I was a simple human. Subdued by the torture that movies gave me. The chance to escape a mundane life slips back to the bills I have to pay and plants that needed to be watered.

Sometimes when looking up and seeing the symbols across people shirt of fandoms that they loved. I questioned what it be like if the symbols weren't fictional. The heroes. The villains. The good and the bad.

"Time for lunch, Charlie."

My ears burn as I looked up. The grocery manager smiled, her teeth glint in the dull light. I got off my knees and took the gloves that cover my hands.

"You been spacing more so than usual." "As long as the job gets done right?" I questioned back, a small smile on my face. Banter. Loved it. She nodded her head and laugh, "Must of seen the new Batman haven't you?" My face flushed red to her answer, I must have a habit or pattern to when I was and wasn't spacey.

"Yeah it was great."

I clocked out for lunch and head over to the break room. Looking at the "snacks" they had for employees, my stomach cringes. I was trying to save money. I grabbed the granola bar from the counter and dented can of Diet Coke. I walked to the front of the store- see my close friend Maverick.

"Rick" was covered middle finger to shoulder in Joker tattoos. He was a older man who looked like he either be Santa or a biker. Between the misconception, he was the grandfather figure I never had. Looking around the checkout registers, my eyes didn't catch a glimpse of the silver hair man. As I was passing accounting, my heart stopped.

"Get on the ground!!"

Gunshots. Glass breaking. People screaming. My body froze. The computer generated training about these situations never prepared for it actually to happen. More gunshots.

My body goes down hands covering neck.

I wish I was a smaller person. I could shrink myself to be invisible. The footsteps of the intruders are loud. "Get up Bitch." Someone grabs the back of my bun tied brass colored hair and pulled me up. I cry out in pain back to my feet. My glasses clash to the floor as I rise up.

"Open it up!!!"

One of the gunmen yell, my blurred vision look at the scrambler code. My mouth dried, it been months since I worked on the Front end. The code has to be different... I wanted the movie themed life right? Was this a sick contradiction.

My fingers smashed in the code: 1959. The red light turn green. My throat dried as I was pushed inside. I could feel the hard pressure of a gun to my back and I prayed that the armed man doesn't shoot me. Why couldn't superhero be real?

The man behind me yelled at the other to keep an eye out. How many were there. Why didn't I count how many feet were on the ground? Why didn't I dare to look up to see how many. Survival instincts kicking in. Adapt.survive.

I entered my employee number and hand into the sensor and opened the accounting room. Thankfully and sadly their was only myself and the gunned man in the room. My heart was racing. Maybe my fatass would have a heart attack before getting shot..."put your hands on the counter- no moving." The masked man demanded, my hands flung up to the counter on command.

Don't kill me.

I put my head down and tried not to cry out of frustration as the man opened up drawers removing money. I could be a hero. The room is basically sound proof. I could ... I could..

Be a hero?

No l... was weak. Miserable person who simply fantasized being a hero (or villain). I was nothing more than a fan girl.

"My name is Charlie Wagner, I'm a only child. I was born on..." "shut the fuck up bitch." My brown eyes darted from the counter to the man. Make him feel guilty. Too much information will sensitize the person. Or more than likely- get myself killed. The gunman puts the end to the back of my head and I feel myself piss in fear.

"Don't be a fucking hero."

I closed my eyesshut. Don't kill me. "Open the safe." I felt a nudge of the gun to my shoulder. I scooted over hands tightly up. What warp dream am I having.

The safe number.

Where.

"I found it.."

Click

--

My hands clench the bedsheets tightly and my lungs burn for air. The roaring sound of rain and thunder stormed my ears. Then the sounds of machines. Beeping.

Opening my eyes, the room was white. Hospital?

"She awake?"

A rough voice ask. My ears burned at the strain. I turn my head, which felt like it was barely keeping on by a thread. Oxygen in my nostrils smelt sweet.

What the literal fuck.

The man waiting beside an officer was dressed like mother fucking Batman.

"This must be a crappy make a wish.." I joked out, voice scratchy like I inhaled a multitude of cigarettes. I stared at the man, strong jaw an all, and decided he was most defiantly the best Batman I have ever seen. "She needs more rest Batman." The cop stated, rubbing his brow. My eyes scanned weakly the officer. Brown jacket, older, glasses. "You seem coherent. What happen to the robbers in the store- you let one into the safe.."

That's right... I.. pissed myself and ... got shot? Am I dead.

The sound of the heart meter was going fast. My heart tighten in thought. "Calm down.. your safe. Your ok." The cop said. "I'm Commissioner Gordon Gotham p.d"

My heart continued to race against my thoughts.

Batman took off the heart reader and looked me dead in the eyes. My mouth went dry.

This wasn't a joke.

This was truly Batman. Bruce Wayne.

"If she didn't piss her pants the first time. She defiantly is now."

My eyes adverted their gaze on the blue ones landed on a red masked vigilante.

Red Hood.