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flash fiction

What is a hero without her villain.

Trigger warning – contains themes of self harm and domestic violence.

The hero was taken aback. Sure, she had hurt him before. Come close to killing him more times than she could count, but crossing that line had never been a part of the plan. After all what is a hero without a villain? The banters, the skirmishes, the fighting – it was all just a game. An elaborate show with a cocky antagonist and an un-deterring protagonist.

Rainbow coloured footsteps.

No matter how much we tell ourselves otherwise, even the most spontaneous fall into routines. We go to the places in which we lose the tension in our shoulder, grab the moments when we truly breathe. Before we know it, these glimpses of comfort turn into a routine, a colour shade we paint our footsteps in.

Traditions.

“I don’t know and I don’t care, pin it on traditions if you like but let’s just go.”
“You know how I feel about tradition.”
“It’s just peer pressure from dead people” he finished in an exasperated sigh.

Not a monster.

She whispered barely audibly as she continued to hold the knife in place – “I’ve done monstrous things but that doesn’t make me a monster.”

Heroes don’t exist.

“And you think you are so morally right, as if the bloodshed isn’t your doing too. Please remember that heroes don’t exist, that goodness is an illusion; because what seems heroic to you is always, and I mean always, villainous to someone else.”