Lisa sighed out of boredom as she scrolled through Instagram. It was midnight and she was watching over the security cameras at the local clothing store.

“What better way to spend a Thursday evening” she mumbled to no one.

She had taken up this job to help pay the bills while she studied photography at college. She kept switching between looking at Instagram and Pinterest looking for ideas for her next project. The professor had assigned a particularly interesting project this time around. She had to recreate famous paintings using inanimate objects. The project was due Saturday but she still had no idea where to even start. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move in the camera.

“For God’s sake not again” she said in frustration.

Lisa got up from her chair and made her way over to the women’s section where she picked up a mannequin that had fallen over.

“You would think they’d just bolt these to the ground, but that would be too easy” she said amusingly to herself.

This was the only slightly interesting part of her job, watching the various mannequins on the cameras guessing which one would fall first. All of them had their sort of own personalities. You had the athletic ones in the sports wear while you had the more flashy ones by the swimsuit section. As she was thinking about this a thought stuck her for her project. She quickly looked at where the camera was and positioned the mannequin with its hand raised in the air. She took off the shirt the mannequin had on and made her way over to the athletic section. She found the one that looked like it was shooting a basketball and moved it over to the closet camera. She did this to every section picking, moving and framing each of the mannequins in view of the cameras and when she came back to her office, she smiled with glee. All the mannequins were positioned so it looked like a re-creation of the famous French Revolution painting “The Liberty Leading The People” she pulled her camera out from her bag and took a couple of shots of her creation.

“Looks like I’m right on schedule this time” she said as she poured her eyes over the shots she took.

She had struck gold with this new found method of re-creation. The rest of her shift, she kept moving, rearranging, swapping clothes and placing the various mannequins in ways that would help her finish her project. When the morning came her had taken photos of “The Night Watch,” “Primavera,” “The Last Supper,” and “American Gothic.” When her boss came in she was putting back all the mannequins much to his surprise.

“What the hell is going on here” he confusingly asks.

“Oh just a little painting” Lisa says with a wide grin on her face.

It was 2 a.m. and I still couldn’t sleep. I had tried counting sheep, I drank for a warm cup of milk from the cafeteria, but nothing was working. I’ve been in this bed for three days after I accidentally ate a cookie that had peanuts in them while at a work party. Luckily, my co-workers were able to find my epi-pen which bought enough time for the ambulance to arrive. I had spent most of my time talking with other patients and playing board games in the mess hall. The lady next to my bed had been in a car accident with her husband when she lost control of her wheel and hit a guard rail. The husband was in a coma, but doctors didn’t think he would make it. She was very calm about it, didn’t tear up at all, didn’t make eye contact when telling what had happened, but we all handle trauma in different ways. I turned on my other side to try and find a more comfortable position to lie down when the woman started hyperventilating in her sleep. I went to reach the call button on my bed to get a nurse when the women said something that stopped me in my tracks.

“I did it, I killed him, I finally killed him.”

At first I thought she was feeling guilty about the accident, but when she said finally killed him, my thoughts started racing. Was this not the first time something like this happened? Was the car crash planned before? Why would she want to kill him? I stayed up another hour trying to put the piece together before my body forced me to go to sleep. The next morning when I woke up I looked over to see the lady reading the newspaper like just any other Sunday morning. As we were eating breakfast I started to as questions.

“What work did your husband do?”

“He was a business man, traveled a lot around the country” She replied without looking up from the paper.

“Interesting, so what did you usually do for fun together?” I ask trying to get more information.

“He liked to golf, I wasn’t much for it but it was how we spent our time together” she mumbled. She buried her head deeper into the paper, giving the hint that she was done talking. I now sat there on my bed with a difficult choice to make: should I tell a nurse, contact the police, or just keep my mouth shut. It was obvious from our quick exchange that it was a loveless marriage. The husband probably spent many of those business trips seeing other women and clearly didn’t give her any attention when he was home. I felt sad for her in a way. To hate ones marriage so much that you go and try to kill your partner along with yourself. Something like this was very hard to keep to myself. When a couple of my friends visited they asked about any hospital gossip I may have picked up on from any patients or nurses. I held my tongue and said I heard nothing of the sort.

It was my final day in the hospital, I just needed to run through a basic check up and then I was cleared to leave. As I got up from my bed I could not help but notice the woman looking at me, studying me as if I was some animal. I just thought maybe she was still feeling a little concussed and followed the nurse to another room. When I came back the police where in our room questioning the lady about the accident and she had the same cadence as she did with me. Quite, plain, simple details like a child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I knew at this point I had to let the police know of what I heard the night before. I let them leave the room and close the door. I told her I was going to use the bathroom and as I tuned to open the door, she grabbed me by the neck and wrestled me to the ground.

“Let’s keep this secrete between you and me” she said while closing my windpipe as hard as she could. I vision slowly started to fade and the last thing I could remember was the police opening the door, and prying her off my body

“Alright Johnny this is your last chance, give us the money or it’s bye bye for you!”

How you doin, name’s Johnny Malkovich, as you can see I’m not in the most comfortable position at the moment. Although, this isn’t the first time I’ve hand my body dangled over the edge of a building, but this time I’ve really screwed the pooch. Everyone knows in the crime world you don’t mess with the head of a mafia family, and today I had just made that mistake. I didn’t kill anyone or kidnap any children. In fact, my whole time in this game I have never laid a finger on anyone. I’m doing this so I can keep the Oliver Theater open. You see rent ain’t cheap in the city that never sleeps, and my daughter is an actor that preforms there. I would do anything for my little girl, even get myself involve in this mess. All my earnings I’ve made stealing from jewelry stores and robbing airports have all gone to the theater as anonymous donations to keep their lights on.

“You’ve got ten seconds or your head is hitting that pavement!” The goon holding my legs screams.

In all honesty, I didn’t have the money. I had already sent it to the theater and it was as good as gone. Earlier that day I had snuck into the house of the mob boss and made my way to his safe he kept under his desk. I cracked open the lock like I had done many times before. There was about twenty thousand all in cash that I stuffed in a duffle bag. The one thing I’m still having trouble figuring out is how they knew it was me. I’m not going to try and plead innocence with these guys, it’s too late, but there must have been some small slip up I made that gave it away.

The other goon begins to pull something out of his pocket and says, “we found this at the house, you have a very talented daughter, let’s just hope it stays that way.”

Fuck me, a playbill for The Wizard of Oz fell out of my pocket, and there was Jennie Malkovich’s name plastered right in the middle. My head started to go numb, mostly because the blood rushing to my head but also just the thought of what they might do to her. I knew now I had to get out of this situation and fast. These goons didn’t know their right from left and it showed. The building they have chosen to dangle me off has multiple fire escapes next to the windows. The one holding me has my legs right up against his chest so with all my might I clicked my heels and out came a knife from my boot that stabbed him in the lung and down he went. I hit one of the fire escapes hard, dislocating my left shoulder I quickly ducked for cover and took out my gun from my coat pocket and began looking for the second goon. He popped his head over the side to make a quick shot, but I was quicker. The bullet struck him in the eye and down he went next to this companion. I made my way back up to roof as best I could, the blood rushing back still made me feel upside down. When I got up to see the bodies lying there, all I could do was stare. I had never even punched anyone before and now I had just killed two men. The knife was a gift from one of the my crime buddies and I had just wore them for appearance. I had never fired the gun before either, I only used it to scare store clerks, but now I was nothing more than a common criminal that gave this city the reputation it has now. I started to cry, not because I had just committed murder but knowing that me and my daughter have to skip town now. I tried to be the best father I could be but now I have to take her away from her friends, job and dreams.

“Maybe there’s another Oliver theater in Kansas,” I tell myself thinking of places to run away to.

I quickly make my way down and hail a cab, when the driver asked me where I wanted to go I said, “back before I took that simple shoplifting job.”

Well now I’ve done it, today is the day that I will die. I really have no one else to blame but myself really, I chose to put myself in this situation and now I must face the consequences. I should have never listened to my friends when they said this would be fun. But, now I find myself in the middle of the Rocky Mountains with no cell service and surrounded by unknown beasts that lurk in the trees. My girlfriend tries to comfort me and tells me everything will be all right and even a little fun, but this is my worst nightmare. Growing up in New York, the building were my mountains, the pigeons my source of nature, and there were no bears to eat me alive. I mean, there is a reason human chose to move to cities and build massive sky scrapers, it was to escape the wilderness that was always trying to kill you. Everything about this place is off putting to me, the poison ivy, the steep cliffs anyone can fall off, elk that will charge you for the slightest grievance. Even the trees, the way they are congested and seem to be trying to enclose me and make me part of the forest. Our journey begins at a picnic pavilion with signs all around us warning about feeding the wildlife and watching out for grizzly bears. I knew this would be the safest part of our hike but we quickly made our way to the 6-mile trail that lead to some lake I forgot the name of. I had already drank all my water our of nerves and knew I would be dehydrated by the time we got to the end-if we even made it that far. My girlfriend held my hand as we got deeper into the woods and started pointing out all the different types of flowers the park had. All I could focus on was making sure any ticks didn’t land on me or any bees came near my face. We stopped along the trial for a snack break, but I couldn’t even get down a protein bar my stomach was so sick. We spotted a family of prairie dogs poking their heads out their homes to watch us inquisitively. It has always been a wonder of mine how such tiny, defenses creatures were able to survive such a harsh environment. They must always been on the look out for predators, much like me. One of my friends tells me predators are a lot more scared of humans which is way we have not seen one near the trial. I took his advice into consideration but made sure I kept my eyes peeled just in case. We started our hike again an another one of my friends leans of to me and says there is a really cool viewing point just half a mile away that I would like. I had always liked seeing this from high up, I remember when my dad would take me to the Empire State Building on weekends and we would gaze at the skyline for hours. We made our way up a small hill and went of the path a little bit, much to my objection, but when we got to the clearing, what I saw I could not comprehend. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. The mountains, a small stream, the valley below, the trees the rocks, everything blended together in a way that took my breath away. We all stared in silence for way felt like an eternity. I was trying to take in every detail possible, from the way the snow looked on the top of the mountain to the way the stream flowed below us. Everyone started walking away one by one and my girlfriend had to pull me away to continue the hike. When we got back on the trail, I felt I was seeing it from a different perspective. The smell of the pine trees, the sounds of the birds the colorful flowers all seemed to encapsulate me. Suddenly I was not fearful of this strange place that now felt like home to me. It had the same beauty of New York, but in a different way. I eagerly went to the front of our group and saw they all were smirking, knowing I was having a good time. They were right, they seem to be always right.

Michael Hankins lived in an ordinary town, worked an ordinary job, live in an ordinary house, had an ordin-

“Dude why are you talking so loud, it’s seven in the morning.”

Wait, you’re able to hear what I’m saying?

“Yes, and its waking the kids up. Also, why are you shitting on me for no reason?”

Well every good story starts with the character’s humble beginnings so we can see your transformation into a hero at the end

“Who’s we? Wait, why am I even talking to a voice that’s in my head?!”

Not to worry my friend, I am merely the narrator for this story, here to help the reader visualize what is happening and add drama to the scene

“Well if you wanna add drama to the story, you can tell the reader I’m still in my underpants and I’m about to pull the blankets off.” Michael said with a perturbed look on his face.

“Again, it’s just us talking two each other, you don’t need to explain how I’m feeling.”

But if I don’t, then how will the reader understand what you are feeling?

“Show don’t tell, I don’t know man, also if there are people reading this interaction, don’t I need to consent before you show this to the world?”

We’ll worry about that later, for now let’s worry about getting this journey started

“If you’re looking for a journey, I’m headed to the bathroom to drop off some Tai food.”

And so our hero dresses up for the day, wearing a simple blue button-down, khakis, and penny loafers, what is he up to? Going to seek advise from a village elder? Pick up his weapon from the blacksmith? Or perhaps a wizard has offered him a place on his party to find lost gold

“If you think this is some type of lord of the rings thingy, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Well then why don’t you just shit on all my exposition and tell the reader what’s going to happen

“I’m going to talk with my bank about adding more money into my Roth IRA and then I have to catch up on quarter 3 reports for the law firm I work at, if you stick around until then, I’ll be playing Mario Kart with my friends.”

Wait so there are no beasts to fight, kings to kill, battles to be won?

“Well I am down 20 bucks to Dave so I will make a valiant effort tonight to kick his ass on rainbow road?”

Rainbow road?

“Not important, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to merge and need full concentration.”

Oh curse the Gods! I remember during King William’s time when everyone wanted a hero’s journey to seek glory and claim their rightful place in history, where did it all go wrong?

“Probably when people realized that dying at age 25 for some abstract goal of “glory” is a terrible idea.”

Are you saying people don’t enjoy the stories of King Arthur or Frodo or even Gilgamesh?

“Of course not, every little kid pretends to be knights fighting evil dragons in dungeons, but in today’s world that’s not how it works. Knights can’t fight global climate change or solve wealth inequality, that’s where the true heroes come in.”

So, you’re saying I’ve been caught up trying to tell a story of epic adventure that I’m missing the true meaning of what it means to be a hero?

“Heroes of today help the most vulnerable in our society, and often do it with little recognition, kind of like Sam, had to carry Frodo’s bitch ass up that mountain and somehow Frodo is the one who saved middle earth.”

Michael, you are a true hero for showing me what to really focus in this time of history.

“I’ll send you an invoice for it, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to give some very detailed bank statements and don’t need it to be shared here.”

And so we leave this tale understanding that not all journeys are for glory, gold or god. And that not all great adventurers wear amour for carry the sharpest weapons, but that true heroes are the ones that mold and shape our life for the better, now If you’ll excuse me I have to use the bathroom, too much Tai food last night

As I reflect I must confess

Am I really the best to which I can attest

Am I slipping into darkness as I begin to rest

Or Can I live up to life’s great test

As everyone goes away

It seems like darkest paves the way

I hate to see light fade away

But in this hour what saves the day

Hope.

Hope to see my old man days

Hope to be remember in a happy way

Hope to accomplish all my dreams

Hope to not fall to greed

Yeet