For the longest time, I've wondered what it means to be a hero. I've pondered it, read on it and yet in all my introspection I still haven't found a desirable definition. Desirable for me, anyway.
Looking at the question on top of the blank page that was handed to me and my classmates, I couldn't help but think, 'I need to buy some larger underwear.' I was ripped off with my eyes open procuring this last set. It said, 'large,' and it was packaged. That old man had no reason to…
Some trains of thought are a bit too unsettling. 'What do you want to be after you graduate?' Looking over at my desk mate's answer, I could tell he was probably ripped off too. I mean who tries out their underwear before they buy it? People who love to be thorough! People who ask a lot of questions, people, I have no patience for.
The requirements for answering this question were no less than five hundred words. Matthew happened to know only a few sentences. He was from the Philippines and apparently he wasn't very fond of English. Guess it wasn't the underwear.
Despite this, he was fairly good at speaking it. He just had issues expressing himself on paper.
'I want be doctor. I heal many disease for many people.'
That's all he had. So he wasn't as good at it as I thought he was. Either way, that trumped my blank page, my blank mind, my blank soul. He was already the hero of his story.
Heroes are nothing without their goals, you see. Well, I guess that applies to villains also. My philosophy is, 'Life, is a story comprised of heroes, villains and henchmen. Heroes and villains take center stage and henchmen, well, are the rest of us.'
The idea is, if you have some grand goal in life, then you're one of the two. Until you find something like that to strive for, you're a supporting character for either side. Any of us could be heroes and any of us could be villains but most of us, are henchmen.
Matthew would probably tell me, 'That's a bleak view of the world!' Perhaps it is. Perhaps he is right. But it remains my view nonetheless. Then I'd tell him to spell the word 'bleak' and he'd pretend he didn't hear me.
Half an hour into this session and I'm still flipping my pen in between my fingers. My problem wasn't that I had nothing I desired to do. My problem was the choice. There in that moment, I had to tick either the hero checkbox or the villain's. But it really isn't that simple. Even villains are heroes to someone.
But there was really no need in overthinking it. It's not like I couldn't change my mind later.
'I want to be a policeman. Not because of my deep love for virtue or anything but because I could use the action. Desk job would get boring and I'd end up being a criminal anyway. And it's not because I like sports. I don't like running without a reason and what better reason than the opportunity to legally punch a guy in the neck and say he ran, even if he didn't. I'm not particularly a violent person but what else am I going to do on God's multicolored planet that somebody hasn't done yet? Might as well do something dangerous for a living.
Maybe I'd be a dentist on the side. No way my parents will let me join the police. I don't really know how I want to live but I do know I don't want to die like Matthew. No offense to Matthew. I'm hoping this is just between us.
My point is, I don't want to live life conventionally, predictably. If that means I might not die with all my teeth in place, so be it. Advancements in dental care have come such a long way. I'm not in any danger. Still, I want to go out with a bang, every single day. Somewhat of a goal. Just not grand enough.
It's not something like saving the world or even destroying it. It's simply enjoying it, every day. I don't want to do too much or too little. Nor do I want to live in the realm of obscurity. I don't know what I want, is basically what I'm saying. It's like I'm at a buffet and I want to taste everything but there seems to be no time. So I have to choose. So there hangs my dilemma. One life is not enough for what I want. So in conclusion, I think it's fair to say, this question does not apply to me.
What I will do though, is take it under advisement. The question, prompts me to delve deeper into what is suitable for what little time I have. Perhaps I'll find an answer if I dig deep enough.
Yours most emphatically,
Daniel Demarco.'
It was too late by the time I realized it was supposed to be an essay and not a letter. My class teacher had already all but yanked it from underneath my face. Drool would have made it an invalid submission. Clearly, I hadn't written five hundred words but Mrs. Athelo would probably be glad I had written something to begin with. Can't really say the same for Matthew.
It's been said I should cut him some slack. He, being my only friend and all. More precisely, it's been thought. Friendship takes time and most of my time is occupied. Acquaintances however, I have in plenty. At least, that's what I tell myself.
This being the last week of high school, numerous unpleasant and unnecessary feelings flooded the chamber of my emotions. I was raised in a house where things like feelings are for softies. Hence the term 'chamber and so on.' 'Heart' is supposedly too closely linked to being a watered down male. Made me wonder how I'd describe a heart attack to my old man. Better yet how he would describe it to me.
'My chamber of secrets!' as he gripped his chest. I've come to realize that sometimes it's okay to attempt a joke and totally fail at being funny. It's totally normal. Totally human. Just like emotions.
I never participated in any kind of courtship whatsoever. There's just the things that interest me and the things that don't. Maybe I should have been a bit more normal. Maybe I should've said, 'Yes, I like Sophie too!' Even though I really don't know who Sophie is but I affirm that I do so I can hurry through that conversation.
It's like my heart, no, my chamber of, no! My heart, was slowly trickling regret through my veins. Unpleasant and unnecessary thoughts. I should be figuring out a way to move, get help, something!
But I'm stuck and all I can do is groan. It's been over ten minutes and all the bystanders are doing is flashing their phone cameras. They have to capture everything. 'Oh look, an accident!' they post. 'How awful!' they exclaim. I groan as loud as I can but they can't hear me. Not them. My parents. My little sister. It's been over thirty minutes and they are all still unconscious. All I hear is, 'Help is coming!' 'Hold on!' And all I can do is groan. Maybe I expected more from human nature than I should have. Maybe this was the moment I hoped a hero would come. Anyone to be honest.
It was supposed to be a night of celebration. It was the one half decent thing that my old man had cooked up in a while. I guess, whatever was trickling somewhere, somewhere, wasn't regret…