I was never one to believe in heroes. Heroes were fairytales and for the movies, I often told myself. They were just fictional and unreal. A man or Alien wearing a costume and probably a cape, flying in the air, doing the extraordinary. That didn't happen in the real world. The world I knew was tough. People cared less about no one but themselves. To me, heroes didn't exist.
However, everything changed when I met John. It was a Monday and it was raining heavily outside. I had on my coat and a small umbrella. I was at the bank to sort out an issue with my bank account, when I almost slipped while climbing up the stairs . A strong pair of hands held me up and steady from behind. Stopping me from falling. My breath caught up in my throat.
"Are you okay Ma'am?" he asked. His voice, deep and calm.
"Yes, thank you" I said, turning to look at my saviour.
He guided me up the stairs, and showed me around. Making sure I was unhurt and okay. His eyes shone with genuineness and care. His smile was so bright and contagious. And I found myself wondering how a total stranger would go out of his way for me.
But that was John. He was always so thoughtful and caring. One of the most courageous persons I've ever met. The way he would go out of his way for people even though he hardly knew them or whether or not they deserved it, was extraordinary. He became my adviser, confidant and mentor. He was like that steady rock I could always lean on.
Weeks passed and we grew closer. We hung out regularly. We drank coffee every morning at a cafe close to our work place. John was calm and steady, always so present. And I realized that, sometimes a hero doesn't come wearing capes and flying around. Sometimes they are just ordinary people doing extra ordinary things. And to me John was my hero. He didn't need to save me from a fire or stop a flying bullet, but the simple acts of showing up, being present, caring was more than I could ask of.
Just when I finally began to believe that just maybe, the world indeed has some heroes in it, life decided to take one away from me. It was 4am that morning when I received a strange call from an unknown number. Skeptically, I picked up the phone and answered the call.
The voice was deep and solemn when it spoke. John was involved in a car accident and was rushed to the hospital. I gasped. The phone fell out of my hands and to the ground. What? How? When? Which hospital? My thoughts were all jumbled up as I tried processing what was happening. Immediately I located the hospital, I drove there as fast as I could, breaking traffic rules.
At the hospital, everything became a blur as I had my eyes fixed in him. Machines and tubes were connected to him. My heart broke at the sight of that. The nurses and doctors moved around frantically in an attempt to save him but all I could see was him, lying on the small bed, grunting in pain, looking so weak and pale. There was a lot of blood. “He has lost a lot of blood” I heard one of the doctors say as they tried to stop the bleeding.
I moved closer to him, the ache I'm my chest increasing by a thousand folds. "John" I whispered his name, tears flowing down my eyes. His hands twitched a little, my eyes snapped up to look at him and there he was, eyes slightly open. He smiled weakly at me even though he was in pain. I took his hands in mine, wishing I could take away the pains he was feeling at that moment.
"You'll be fine" he managed to say, before the sound of the machines went silent. His hands went limp. His eyes closed back, not opening again this time again. Everywhere felt awfully empty and silent. The doctors looked at me with pity.
"I'm sorry, we lost him" I heard them say somewhere in the back of mind.
But I wasn't paying attention to them, all my focus was on the dead man lying in front of me. I couldn't believe this was happening, I shook him repeatedly with my hands wishing that by some miracle he would wake up. But nothing changed. The nurses had to drag me away from the room.
In the days that came by, the grief was unbearable. Having to accept that John was gone, My hero was gone and would not come back was extremely difficult. Life indeed was unfair I thought. But as weeks passed, I came to understand that although he would never return, his heroism would live in me forever. And just like how he saved me, I understood there were people out there who needed saving too. And John had taught me, to not only believe in heroes but to be one also.
So sad, tragedy just had to be part of what humans go through, so sorry for the loss
I like the ending, even though the story is very sad. But heroes died too, right? And news heroes appear for other people 😁