I AM NOT A HERO

I remember the anger that ignited the flames in my heart...the rage that tore my innocence in half. What is revenge without bloodstained hands? That is what led me to my futile state. Ignorance embellished burdened scars on what used to be my dignity. Apart from being uplifted by the smell of victory, metallic fumes suffocate my poisoning lungs. Silence stole my voice, shame corrupted my every intent to escape and hope was just a weak excuse for death. How long did it take for hell to consume me, for my idiotic attempt to save the world be punished? I was a failure...forgiveness was no exception. The world was in crisis.
I heard the padlock fall on the hard floor and the door slowly opened. My blurred eyes managed two black figures holding dangerous looking weapons...a machete and a loaded gun. Their heavy footsteps sweep through the peeling plaster and shattered glass. Goosebumps exposed themselves on my skin making the hair on my arms stand up like spikes. I gulped down the dryness of my throat and the taste of my own blood shrivelled me.
“Not so tough now are you?” one of the villains laughed. With an effortless attempt he lifted me off of the ground and then gravity no longer exists. I closed my eyes and prayed to be slaughtered quickly so I didn’t have to endure the pain.
“This one looks good with bullets.” The other guy proclaimed with such a deep haunting voice. Rough hands released me and I landed on the ground with a bone-breaking thud. I still didn’t dare to open my eyes, looking at them reminded me of my own unstitched wounds.
“I thought we could use him in the puppet theater.” Death was an amusement to them, entertaining these beasts were the last thing I wanted to do. But...what was my alternative?
“Just let me drill a few holes and its all yours.” One eye opened and the guy with the low voice positioned his gun. On the count of three I was shot, one bullet after another. Blood started streaming from my lips and tears rushed down my cheeks like a waterfall. But don’t be fooled. They were tears of happiness. I didn’t give them the dramatic scene they craved for. I was calm, my life was fading but I was calm. I smiled at my enemies. They wore confused looks but I didn’t bother to explain. Instead I tried to clear my throat and my last words were the first to ever be spoken in this prison.
“Thank you...”
I am not a hero...heroes don’t make mistakes...heroes don’t die...

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