For me, a hero was never a guy with a cape that could fly and use super powers to defeat a villain. The hero that I thought of was someone I could look up to, literally and figuratively. He was a boy who could scare away the big bad monster downstairs, yelling “Shut Up!”. He would know exactly what to do when I was hurt, or even sad. He knew what to say to make me fell better. Even though he was popular and seven years older then me, he always asked me if I wanted to tag along with him so I was never bored. He made sure I was safe and with people that he knew would take care of me. He was my Hero. But one day, he changed.
He became cold and harsh; he even started using me as a basketball with his friends on the Trampoline. He laughed at me when I got hurt and cried. He yelled, screamed, drank. I loved him and didn’t want to see my hero acting this way, so decided to find out. But luckily the answer came to me. It was Love. He had fallen for the bad girl in school, and to get her he thought that he would have to act cruel to everyone around him. It worked, but he was so in love he didn’t even realize what a fool he was making out of himself, or that she was using him to get to his best friend.
One day around 3:30 I came out of my room and started walking down the hall when my Hero turned the corner and walked into me. I flinched, thinking he was going to yell or hit me but he just looked at me and whispered sorry. I looked at him confused. Even though I was ten, I could tell from the red rim around his eyes. She had dumped him for his friend and his friend said yes.
On that day, my hero’s eyes were no longer perky a blue but dull, lifeless, and shattered like glass. His face paler and had a greyish tone, it was not the sun kissed colour it was the summer before. He turned to the bathroom, shut the door and locked it
He was depressed and it was hard for me to watch, so I turned around with my head in my chest and walked down the stairs sniffling.
That day I lost my hero, and my brother.