A Villain by Name

Heroes.

Villains.

We all have those whom we look up to.

We all have those we refuse to be.

They say the line is obvious.

This idea of good and bad

Light and dark, so clear.

But is it?

As young children we are taught to distinguish between the two.

A Villain is wrong, evil, and often cruel.

A Hero is good, light, and the better of the two.

Villains may fall

Heroes may rise.

But there's more under the surface.

A Girl.

The Girl.

Who lives with a Hero.

Whom people loathe, but also love-

they aspire to be.

The Hero-

On the outside he is gracious and outstanding, but to The Girl—

The Girl, who lives with the Hero. He’s anything but.

The Girl who is always smiling and laughing.

Whose life seems picture perfect.

She talks and spreads joy and warmth.

Her friends loathe him.

Her father is a Hero!

She’s lucky…right?

Her warmth hides the cold.

She’s The Girl who’s seen too much.

Who’s done too much.

Others see The Girl as a good ear.

Little do they know,

She's The Girl who listens to escape her own thoughts.

Who serves to remember warmth.

She talks and debates, to show the world she’s still there! She isn’t broken!

The world who thinks her words are a disgrace.

That she’s privileged, her father, some great being.

The Girl who runs not to the Hero…

But away from his voice.

Who swims to numb the longing that aches her chest.

The Girl, a child, who sees a Villain—not a Hero.

Whose tears stain her pillow…

For that is what happens when you live with a Villain disguised as a Hero.

And, a boy

The Boy.

The new kid.

Whose knuckles are red.

Purple and blue dancing along his arms.

Who fights, seeming so cruel and cold.

Who’s quiet and distant.

Who pretends, and looks, made of stone despite his age.

The Boy who’s avoided.

Teachers who sigh at his tardiness—his appearance.

They’ll say he’s trouble.

He doesn’t fit in.

He's too cruel.

He’s a loner.

They mock him.

Mocking the blue and purple flowers forming on his arms.

For his brutal hits—unwaveringly so, in spite of how many he receives.

He’s the Villain in the story, right?

Little do they know of the warmth that lies underneath.

Of the heart that longs for peace, but never finds it.

Nor of The Boy who protects his sisters.

In spite of how the world mocks him—

He defends his mother.

Regardless of the toll.

The Boy who refuses to let her quit.

Not on herself, nor on her kids.

The Boy, who’s father is gone.

A Child.

A Breadwinner.

Whose hands are calloused.

The Defender.

A protector.

Whose callousness hides the aching warmth and desire underneath.

Quiet—not of choice, but of need.

He keeps quiet to avoid more fights.

But deep down, he just wants peace.

Whose body aches from the hours of work.

Yet refuses to give up.

Some may call it foolish.

But to The Boy it’s everything.

He’s there.

Standing for his siblings.

And maybe if he can stand long enough.

Holding the roof over their heads long enough.

Then they can live a better life.

Even if to the world;

He’s the problem.

The issue to be rid of.

The Villain.

But really,

He’s The Boy who cradles three lives in his hands… and then his own.

Who may appear the Villain to others.

But to his family.

He is,

Their connector.

Their Hero.

Both are people.

One a sun.

One a moon.

One born in the shadows of light.

One in light disguised as shadows.

Both shine.

Guide.

Born of different parents.

Yet both guide the lost, and bring hope.

Both cast shadows where their light can’t quite touch.

Both show;

Devotion

Love, and Desire.

Both are needed,

yet sometimes unseen.

But both very much there.

Both are Heroes, but also aren’t.

Neither truly Villains.

For what is a Villain?