Novel & Cerita My Father Is The Hero

"He was my hero. He is...my hero." "I've seen you at your lowest, and even when you were ready to give up, you just...came back up. Stronger than ever. And...I admire that about you. My father didn't make it, but you did. You continue to do so, and I guess somehow I found comfort in that." I let out a shaky breath, blinking back the oncoming tears. "Darren..."

I weeped staring right in his eyes which I could see was also filled with such pain for what I was going through, where his hands were soon on either side of my face again. “I know baby, but you should see what your father did as a heroic act of selflessness, he stepped forward and sacrificed himself to save all of us. What he did will be remembered for generations to come where everyone will see him as the hero he was.” He said attempting to make me see the positives, but in that moment, I realised there was someone else going through this.

Draven asked. I didn't know what to say. The tears wouldn't stop falling. My father may have sold me but we've been through a lot together, I didn't wish him death at the hands of Malrik. Hell, I didn't wish anyone death at the hands of Malrik. “Your father also said he'd rather die a hero than die a coward and he wasn’t going to lure you to your death,” Darius added. “I’m not letting him torture my father to death,” I replied.

My father had only cussed at me a few times before, and only when I did something really, really bad—like sneak out of the house in the middle of the night or clog the toilet with all of Mom’s lipsticks after we fought. The disappointment and anger in his voice had me shaking. “We met weeks ago.” “You said that,” Mom snapped. I resisted sending her an angry look. Any aggression on my part would only make things worse. Dad gruffly cleared his throat. “He hasn’t said anything about this to me.” I eagerly leaned forward. “That’s because we didn’t know you two were friends until last weekend at the fundraiser. And I wouldn’t let him tell you. I wanted to let you know myself.”

“I –“ my father begins, leaning forward, but I don’t let him get far, rising to my feet to glare around the room. “This man is a hero in this war,” I snap, pointing at Jackson. “This man saved me and killed your enemy with his teeth in his neck! And this is how you show your gratitude!?” I sneer at my father, and at Roger, knowing that they’re the ones who wrote the rules.

They are too powerful. On the other hand, my father is an ambitious man with his own plans for us - plans that keep my eyes open at night the moment I allow them freedom in my head. I wasn’t supposed to; my heart was supposed to remain a rock, but it couldn’t. So I let him in, and now dread fills my heart as judgment day creeps closer. My father is hailed as a hero for standing up for what was right and saving the kingdoms from ruin. But he’s no hero. He’s just a power-hungry wolf that will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

my father asked me. (Translation: Do you even realize how much older he is than you in age?) "Papa m-mujhe usse fark nahi padta." I said slowly. (Translation: Father I-I don't care about it.) He turned towards him. "What do you think that showing up with this gun and all you sent that boy away, you became a hero?" my father asked him harshly. "I don't want to be a hero because I was never the one. I just want to be the best for my girl and my son." he said confidently and hearing him I just wanted to hug him but controlled myself to do so.

I had nothing left—only the shattered pieces of myself which were about to be melted by pain. Where was I ? What was wrong with my father? “No, no. My father is my hero, he can't stop breathing…” I muttered, before shutting my eyes on the floor.

After the plane landed, Ken followed the location tag Victor had posted online and found his villa in Atelia without any trouble. Standing outside the front gate, Ken nervously straightened his collar and took several deep breaths. Then he sent Victor a private message. “Victor, it’s me. Uncle Ken. “No, not Uncle Ken. “I’m your father. “I came to see you.” A few moments later, the gate opened. Victor walked out slowly, wearing a limited-edition jersey that cost more than most people made in a year.

Maybe he was mistaking my father for someone else. "I'm talking of Alpha Demontes," I replied. "The Black Fur Pack." "I know your father very well," He beamed at me. "He saved me from a mob some time ago. Gave me my own home and fed me daily. Isn't that the definition of a good man?" As my eyes bored into his, I tried to make out the sarcasm from his words. He wasn't being sarcastic however. His straight face and soft tone showed that he actually saw my father as his hero, a good guy. That was weird! My father never helped anyone.