False Heroes

Nothing Begins or Ends

Chapter I:
Drip, drop, splat. Drip, drop, splat. Drip, drop, splat. Warm, something in my hand is slippery and warm. That isn't quite right, it is cold. I can see my breath forming a white cloud in front of me. Yes that's it! It is cold, there is snow on the ground and the air is crisp. Everything is white, the ground, the sky, my breath, my hand. No that isn't right either, my hand is red or should I at least say my hand is covered in red. The snow beneath my feet is red as well. There is a metallic taste in my mouth and my chest feels full. My ears finally stopped ringing the noon church bell. The vision in my eyes is much clearer now. Directly in front of me is a dark figure, holding something out in front of them. To my right I hear a scream, to my left I hear footsteps and dogs barking. My legs suddenly feel heavy, too heavy, to be specific my legs feel as if I am trying to pull them out of mud after a summer rainstorm. The sky? Why am I staring directly at the sky? There are no stars to be gazed upon and no moon to be in awe of, so why am I on my back staring at the sky? A puzzling mystery indeed, a case that will require much brain power. Do please forgive me as I take my time trying to solve this problem... That's it! I've been shot! I am lying here on my back staring at the sky because I have been shot. My hand is pressing down on my stomach will all my might to slow down the bleeding. Is this how I am going to die? In a pool of my own blood, out in the cold winter. No no no, that is too cliche'. I have no desires and no regrets but something doesn't feel quite right again. A story is not  supposed to end when it begins, and you're certainly not supposed to kill off the main character in the opening paragraph... This is all very misleading, this is not a beginning nor is it an end. To be even more specific, this isn't even the middle of this story. It could be called a chapter within a story but certainly not something as important as a climax or exposition. Yes, all this is just one story, to be told alongside other singular stories in order to create one bigger picture.

Chapter II:
Mornings in of themselves are a small slice of hell. No other time of the day can you be fully immersed in the bliss of deep sleep only to be rudely awoken by the responsibilities of the day. So I suppose one could say that the morning of a school day is an especially hot hell. Ding... Ding... Ding. The doorbell of my apartment rung three times at a specific tempo, each ding had the same pause in between as the one before and after it. This could only mean that one demon is at my door, waiting to devour her pray. Crawling out of my small bed I shuffle my way to the steps. I walk down the cylinder staircase, looking forward the entire time. If I stare down at my feet I might get dizzy from the spiral and fall over. I walk to the blue door. The white carpet underneath of my feet feels oddly cold instead of warm. I take a deep breath and prepare myself. I bend my knees to angkor myself to the ground and tighten my chest and shoulders  in order to brace for the impact. I feel as solid as a tank, these defenses will hold, my great wall will not fall. I reach out and slowly unlock the door, with a loud bang, the door flies open and sunlight floods the room. A small but also powerful demon springs towards me.
"Nini!!! Good Morning!" She yelled.
A tsunami had hit my chest, actually no not a tsunami but my little sister whose impact when jumping into my arms could only be described as 100 foot wave rolling in from the pacific ocean and slamming into my chest. No good, my defenses are no good, I fall over onto my butt and she pushes my shoulders down to keep me from launching a counterattack. For someone who is only 5"2 and weighs only 110 lbs, my sister has an incredible amount of strength.
"I brought you breakfast, and I woke up at 6 AM to get it ready for you, so you better eat all of it." She says.
I simply nod and conceded defeat. Once again, much like every morning, much like every morning for the past year I have been consumed by this morning hell and lost my battle against Oli. As I said this is how every morning begins, with just me and Oli. Oli will bring me breakfast and I will make us coffee, we watch the news in silence and then prepare for school. My apartment is small, with the kitchen and living room connected . A small tv is in the living room and directly across from it is a small wooden table. The walls are the same blue as my door and there are no pictures or painting hanging anywhere. Oli heats up our food quickly and we sit down and begin eating.