28 x 28: February Three

Today I thought I'd try my hand at some writing. Comics and my own thoughts, mixed with a good couple of hours of the first season of Lost, inspired this. Felt like there should be a non-visual distraction today.

A Hero's Tale.

You're in a room and the door across from you is shaking violently. It won't last very much longer and sooner or later the hinges are going to give way. You've never really been afraid of what it is on the other side, but at this moment you're filled with a very certain sense of inevitable dread. Your entire life you always thought that you were different; that you were special. You took comfort in the fact that no matter what happened you'd not only rise to the occasion, but in the end triumph. Valiantly you took on every challenge and you walked away with your pride and your sense of self-worth as bolstered as ever. As time dragged on you began to define yourself with your own assessment of just how unique you felt. Then one day something calls into question everything you ever thought and you realize the world very well may have left you behind. You weren't protected by how special you thought you were; you were hiding behind it. You became anemic and the very thing that made you strong actually made you more vulnerable than you ever perceived. Foolishly you scrambled to make sense of your life and your flaws. With no reference point, you struggled to know who you were. Arrogantly you sought to present yourself with new challenges, new opportunities to remind yourself and everyone why it was you were so special. It dawns on you now, trapped in this room, that no one really ever thought you were special. So proud of your every move, you ignored how others reacted. Their air of annoyance; their ever growing sense of apathy. You're in a room and the door across from you is splintering on the edges and you begin to suspect that perhaps not only were you never special -- maybe you were more ordinary than everyone around you. Boring. Dread becomes fear. Fear becomes terror. You restrain yourself and screw up your courage. It feels hollow in your chest like nothing you've ever done mattered. But you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, you're better than you think. You've never really known, never been tested. The door is rattling loose; it won't last very much longer. You stand and you feebly brace your resolve. The door opens.