This is a short story about heroes and villains. Is about when the line between them becomes blurry and you are not sure who to trust. Who to turn to. Are all people only bad, only good? What if the hero does something unforgivable? Do they turn into the ones they once used to fight? What if the villain saves people from a crash or an attack where many would have died if they would have not interfered? Are they good now? Do you call them for help next time something goes wrong?

This story does not touch on all those questions, but allows you to think again what views you have of the hero and villain of a tale.

* * *

In life are no real heroes. There are people that save the day by defeating the ‘villain’. There are people that above all odds, manage to survive an attack and kill the ‘evil’ one. Some save one life by ending another that is considered ‘bad’, not worth living. Are they really heroes? Or just people that, by overcoming something they thought was bad, they ended up killing someone that had a life, family, dreams and hopes and all was gone because those people picked the wrong choices. Or they were just at the wrong moment, at the wrong time. Who can say?

After it happened, everyone tried to comfort me, and told me that it would be ok. That the pain will soon go away and everything would turn out alright in the end. That the person responsible for those horrendous events will pay. That I will be able to move on and will be able to see it not as something that should never be talked about. But as something to be remembered and to make sure that day will never be repeated by someone ever again.

I sure hope all will be forgotten. Never mention it again. Make it taboo and anyone that even dares to think about it to be given nightmares and restlessness until they learn the lesson. Because, it was not only a day where all hope was lost. No. The government said it was a day where the ‘villain’, the mastermind behind all that mess, was not stopped. Disappeared and was never found. They all tried days and days on end, with people from across all country searching for the man responsible, but nothing.

Weeks went on in a blur. I couldn’t sleep. At night I was awake, shaking uncontrollably, sweat covering my body, and the blankets around me did nothing to stop my shivering. The light in my room was on as in the dark, the shadows were creeping near my bed, hovering over my face until one day, they would swallow me whole. Complete darkness was not available where I lived. I was not allowed a moment to hope that even for a second I was safe.

Falling asleep was not an option I desired. The faceless shapes that took hold of my awake state came into my dreams to haunt me there too. But this time, they had the advantage of endless possibilities to torture me. I screamed myself awake every day, sometimes four to five times a night. Then, I would stop trying to go back to my inviting bed and I would go for the friendly drink and a funny movie. If that particular film was viewed more than twenty times, the better. It meant that I did not need to focus, to try and understand the story. I meant going into a state of numbness, a place where my mind would be blank and any thought was soon sent away. Those were the times I liked in a day, the times I enjoyed the most.

I lost everything that day. My friends kept telling me that I will get back on my feet and I will start my life again, a better one. I didn’t believe them for a second. How can you start over if your old life doesn’t let you move on? Doesn’t let you escape it and continues to bombard you with all the events that happened on the not-to-be-mentioned day? But that is life, it’s not fair. And it does not want to be. So why should you want to start living in it again? Well, the answer was actually quite simple. To prevent all from happening again. Stop from the start the people involved in it and cut from the root the tree of destruction.

But, if that day would come, I would need to tell them what actually occurred on that day. I do hope my friends would understand and maybe, someday, would find in their power to forgive me. But I do not seek for it now. I do not deserve it. I might never do.

But…who is to say they saw all this coming? That the person who was supposed to save the day, end the war and kill the opposition, the ‘evil’ ones, would turn out worse than the ‘villain’? That this ‘villain’ we were scared of, running away from, would be the one that tried to stop our best friend. That the person we all trusted, at the end, turned against us. And that all the ‘villain’ wanted was to disappear and start a new life somewhere far from that damned city.

No one knew about all of this. No one, except me.

I sure hope all would be forgotten. Because, little did my friends know, I was the one who had caused that destruction, and I had done it for a reason.

I do not regret doing it. But what I do regret, every single day, is the result.


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