An account taken on the eve of dawn,
I have a hero.
Ever since I was this snot-nosed kid frolicking around the four corners of the house without a single care in mind, still naïve and impregnable to the darkness this world harbors, I would sit quietly in my usual seat on the rabbit patterned couch, feet dangling listlessly. The minutes would tick by unnoticed as I patiently waited for my favorite show to come on.
It was a kid's show—a cartoon with a pointless, repetitive plot of a hero rushing to the aid of the poor city folk imploring his assistance to fend off crime. My hero was clumsy, useless, had no special powers, tactless and totally had no skills he could use as a weapon against evil. But to my amazement, he magically transforms into someone people rely on when dire times come. When it comes down to it, he's the only one the city could count on—using his eccentric wits one can always depend on to generate an idea full of randomness and his words full of hope and encouragement that he uses to befriend his foes.
His last words at the final episode were "Everyone has heroes they believe in."
And from that day on, I swore to find my own hero in reality who will vanquish my unbelief and will tinge this tainted life of mine with sunshine.
YOU ARE READING
Wishing Away
RomanceEveryone has heroes they believe in. That was a lie. One big fat lie. The more Rhianna Lee spent time living her life in a so-called dimension that she despised so much named 'reality', the surer she was that that childhood belief she held on dear w...
