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It makes me a Hero
The moon was big that night, bigger than I've ever seen. So enormous that the heavens couldn't help but drown in its luminous beauty. It must have seen how couldn't it? I wonder how many nights I lay awake, begging, pleading with the moon, that it might tell someone what it saw that night. I wanted it to take that burden from me. Since I never have believed in a god, I couldn't ask them, who ever they are or might be, to do it for me. So I was all alone.
It was on a night just like that, with the moon overbearing the skies, that I first relived the event in my mind. A flashback. I had collapsed, and my friend had found me, there on the sidewalk, less than 10 yards from where I first saw the moon like that. I told her, not what I had expected to tell her, but I still spoke as if my life depended on it. It was odd, I didn't tell her any details of the attack, but, instead, how nice he was to me in the beginning. I told her how he made me feel so special, at first, and then, so sad. I told her of how much of an idiot I was.
"I should have known he'd changed! And I knew that! And this is all my fault!" I choked through my all-saturating tears.
And after I was done, she just looked at me. I was about to apologize, when she whispered. "It's not your fault, honey. It doesn't make you loose, it makes you a hero. You spoke up now, just like you said 'no' then. You are a hero."
She got up and walked me home.
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