September 6, 2017
“What kind of lame name is Steelheart? It’s about as intimidating as my left pinky toe!” laughed the prettiest girl in the class.
Young Steelheart looked away, embarrassed. It wasn’t his fault he inherited the name from his mother’s mother. He’d have to start telling a more interesting story of his namesake if he wished to survive another year at this wretched elementary school.
The first few weeks of Steelheart’s fifth grade experience were comparable to slipping in the shower on your birthday. Unenjoyable, worth crying over, but also hardly memorable or life-changing. He trudged through each day trying to learn, have fun, and be a normal student, but for some reason unknown to him, Steelheart was simply hated and picked on by everyone. His teacher would often make a fool out of him just for the sake of it. Even Steelheart’s best friend acted like a jerk to Steelheart, and was really only friends with him because Steelheart was beginning to grow in size and strength, maybe even into a potential bodyguard for the playground. Ah, but Steelheart’s classmates were the worst of all. Calling them bullies would be an understatement. They were basically giant, poisonous, bird-eating snakes with number 2 pencils and over-sized backpacks. Steelheart grew into his name because of those classmates and their cruel words. Not only did Steelheart learn to close off his emotions and harden his heart, but his body also began to physically form a heart of steel.
Little did those other kids know, that every time they bullied, outed, or hurt Steelheart, his body literally strengthened and developed more powerful than humanly reasonable. Now some say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and that certainly was the case for Steelheart, but maybe not for the better. He used his traumatizing memories of his younger years to build himself up into a destroyer.