June 11, 2017 by Patrick Starks
The pain, it saddens me. It makes me weak, it makes me regret. I know it is only temporary, but once it goes, it comes back. Is this all life haves to offer me? How many test must I go through and when I am dead, how will I know I won’t have more test? Nothing but suffer I see, are there happy moments as well? And if so, how long will I have them? Why invest in those happy moments if life is waiting just around the corner to take it away from me again and again—what purpose is it all?
When I was a child, I was told go to school, get a good degree, get a good job, and that job would take care of me, but all there remained were false promises. Why out of all the years and money I invest, I remain working minimum waged jobs? Today we all struggle because of the false promises that were given, and sadly the ones who gave them to us still try to collect—collect our money. How sad a time we live in. What will I do? Where will I go? Only time will tell.
However, it does not have to be like this, I can fight, we can fight. We don’t have to settle with what the pain and lies do to us—we can decide our own path, our own emotional state. Although, my family, my friends, they too suffer. Who will be their hero? Who will save us? Who will show us the way?
They say superheroes are born. That the gods created them, but…
“But what my child? What do you believe?” A mysterious voice spoke.
The woman paused, stood silent—she pondered, but pondered more on who she was talking to.
“Umm… Who is this?” The woman asked.
“Do not worry about who I am. Just answer the question and I will tell you soon enough.”
“Umm… Okay, I believe they are created. I mean, what if superheroes aren’t aliens? What if they aren’t immortal? What if they’re just human beings?”
“Why would the gods create a superhero from human form?”
“I don’t know… Maybe because a human is the only known species to feel, to understand what others go through—to know what pain is.”
“Are you a superhero?”
The woman didn’t speak. She looked down to her feet, not being able to say anything with confidence or at least with her head up.
“Let me ask you a different question. Why would you not be a superhero?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, but you do know. The answer to that question has been bestowed upon you since you were a child.”
“How? How could I ever be a hero to anyone? I can’t even help myself.”
“Through the pain, through the grit—you will find.”
The mysterious voices faded. The woman was left with a riddle she couldn’t unravel.
“Wait! What do you mean?”
The woman went back into a depressing state. She felt lost. She stared down a long hallway as her back leaned against a rigid wall. She noticed something across the way, something different—more so of herself.
She stood herself up to go over and get a closer look. She saw her own reflection, but the reflection was different. This reflection, this other part of her, had fire within its eyes—eyes that she wished she had, although, this was her after all. She moved her head in closer, pressing her forehead against the glass. She closed her eyes, and then heard a voice.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Who… are you back? Where did you go?”
“What are you talking about girl? I was never here?”
“So if you’re not the one I spoke to earlier… Then who are you?”
“I am your subconscious. I am your gift, your power.”
The woman didn’t say a word, only continued to listen as she became intrigued by the word “Power”.
“It’s time to quit complaining about what life has done to you. All that matters is what are you going to do about it?”
The woman’s subconscious placed its hand on her chest. The woman could feel an energy growing within, non-like she’d felt before. It was if someone was sending electricity through her body.
“This… This power, it’s incredible.”
“This is all that you will ever need. This is how you will succeed in life.”
“This is amazing, but it does hurt a little. Is there a way to make it less painful?”
The woman’s subconscious laughed.
“No, not at all. The pain is what guides you, the pain will bring you to your purpose. Without the pain, there will be nothing to gain.”
“But why pain? Why must I always suffer?”
“Why does pain have to always be connected to suffer? Can it not be connected to happiness as well?”
The woman pondered again. She was finally connecting the dots in her life, what she had been doing wrong all along. She stood up, realized that she needed to be stronger than the pain that laid lodged within her heart. Her eyes open as she took two steps back.
She could no longer see a reflection, but herself. What the woman now saw was not sadness, but happiness—what she now saw, was a hero.