[ WP ] Write about a retired superhero who is finding it difficult to adjust back into society .

The necessity of normality. It does not come all at once. It builds and builds until it finally crashes over me. I thought when this day came, I would be happy, a burden lifted, a responsibility no longer requiring my attention. Instead i just feel lost, powerless. I awake to the feeling of homelessness, not physically, but the feeling of walking into an empty shell. An empty shell walking into another, attempting to fill the void with their equal emptiness. In the eternal struggle of anonymity while existing as something supernatural, something that automatically attracts, no, demands attention from the general public, is a futile battle. 
 I accepted the call, the wild primal call that beckoned from within, that growl, that snarl, that wild instinct can not be tamed, can not go unanswered. However I regrettably answered it blindly. Once I answered the call I entered into a new world. No, not a new world, just a new perception of the same world that had surrounded me for years. Once in, never out, once the primal instinct is answered and bowed to, it can never be denied, always a servant to my inner gifts, my abilities. Most people consider them these things, but to me they are just my inner demons. 
 When I take my mask off to assimilate in public, it is when I truly have to put on my real mask. The mask that everyone sees, but no one understands. The mask that weighs more heavily day by day, and now it is forced upon me ever since I made that one mistake that took me from the savior of Vesria to public enemy number one. I thought I was doing the right thing, and I did, but I hurt too many innocent people to get to the end. The means were not worth it. So now I am forced into assimilation, or be impeded by the police, people I thought I was helping, but instead are now hunting me. So now I dawn my real mask, and throw the one made of Lycra and spandex into the garbage. No, too many memories! I grabbed from the plastic wrappings of the bin my mask, the one mask that revealed who I was and let me live who I was in the open and to be celebrated. I hugged it close and wept.
