Heroism Failed
BY LISA PANG '27
to a young child, a
girl like me when i was young
daydream is imagining me
grabbing a plastic sword glowing with florescent light, killing whatever monsters there are
with pointed claws and blood-leaking jaws
lurking in the dark
is picturing myself in armors holding antique yellow-papered maps for guidance
and hence the journey begins
there’s no heroine in my childhood
only Heroes saving the girl locked in a castle or seized by a dragon
hence i wish to become the first heroine, to prove its sheer possibility, to save myself
when needed
Then
One night, I dreamt
A killer coming into my primary school with a
Real
Knife
My vision blurred, foggy particles bouncing up and down in the air
The world turning upside down
Ponds and ponds of blood and high-pitched screams and walls
Stained
and i woke up, sweats draining my clothes wet
and i try to
in my mind
bring back my sword, put on my armor, but
i kept waking up, gulping, face deadly white, body stiff
burying my face deep in the pillow, as if i’m tossed into a vast depth of water,
deep, drowning, and, suffocating, alone
waiting to be saved
Why would my daydream of exerting violence become my nightmare of receiving violence
Why would my heroism fail me
Is daydream a source of nightmare, and nightmare
A magnification of daydream
And reality
i can’t tell
but on the next day, i, would again
daydreaming myself
picking up the sword and starting a new journey.