Writing: Moment in Time - Heroes and Monsters

In a world less known for its heroes and more known for its actors, there is something terribly amiss. Idolization of those born out of fiction is all well and good, but the fact remains that there are heroes that exist in the world who are ignored on a constant basis. They don't have the powers of Superman, the resources of Batman, the ragtag team of compatriots like the X-Men, but they walk by us in stores, restaurants, and the streets every day, yet not a single glance is thrown their way. Ian thought all these things as he walked down the halls of the memorial for fallen soldiers. He wished he had the gifts, the courage, to become like those who will be eternally remembered in their stone tombs. His eyes and fingers traced across every name and achievement, oblivious to the shaking heads of old women who thought he was being disrespectful and the silent approval of old veterans who thought he was acting appropriately. His mind was full of great ideas, fantasies where he lived to return to accolades, parades, Presidents giving him medals of valor, but he also thought of dying gloriously in battle, a firefight or saving a group of stranded orphans from a fire maybe. Ian looked around for a moment, noticing his friends had wandered away and were watching a video that was playing the storming of the beach at Normandy over and over. As he made his way over, a small hand latched onto his and, surprised at the feel of the small, warm hand, he looked down into a pair of shimmering blue eyes.

The child had to be no more than five and stared at Ian with tears brimming but not falling. Courageous, Ian thought, as he knelt down to be at eye level with the young boy. He asked the child what was wrong and learned that he lost his parents. The child was eerily calm about it, but Ian knew that the fear inside the young man would eventually lead him into a mistake, in fact, it already had, he was talking to a stranger. Ian comforted the boy as much as he could and glanced at his friends, noting that they haven't seen what was transpiring yet. Ian gave the child a comforting pat on the shoulder and said he would help him find his parents. As they moved through the memorial hall, the child kept glancing around, eyes searching the crowd for his missing parents, while Ian searched as well. This would be his moment of courage, he kept thinking. He walked the young man through the crowd, searching, but never finding the parents. The child, Ian could tell, was beginning to lose some of that bravery he had before. Ian told the little blue eyed boy that they should get out of the crowd for a minute so the child could calm down. He agreed and they stepped into a small room off the hall. As Ian closed the door, he felt his hand tremble as he latched the lock tightly. He turned and faced the young boy, who glanced at him with growing alarm, knowing, as he approached him, that today, along with all his yesterdays and tomorrows, he would never be on that wall. He was one of the monsters those who died had fought against.