My Father's A Hero の小説・ストーリー

her father said. "They are all a hero to me, Daddy," I said, and that's how I look at them right now. My Daddy's Heroes. "You're right, sweetheart. They're all heroes," my father replied. A few minutes had passed and Heath came in. Aside from his briefcase, he has a plastic bag of food on the other hand. "Hey! What's in that plastic bag?" I asked. "Just some food, sweetheart," he replied. He just called me Sweetheart in front of my dad? I looked at her dad and he just smiled.

She did not have the chance to see her biological father at all. "Our father was a very kind and outstanding person. He loved his work. He respected his wife, and adored his children. Be it a person he knew or stranger, and regardless of their positions, he would treat everyone equally." "Father used to tell me, life is short, so we must live in righteousness, and not do anything sinful. In my heart, he's a hero." Speaking of his father, George let out a long sigh, and his thoughts wandered far into the distance.

Mr Lee smiled, "so, I see you drew your father in this portrait" little Jude nodded with a smile, "of course grandpa, first you are my hero, then daddy. You two are the best hero's ever" "and why do you call us your hero's?" Mr Lee lovingly asked his grandson. "well, because everyone is scared of grandpa and grandpa gives orders and everyone listens to what grandpa says... I want to be like you when I grow up...and oh, daddy is also my hero cause he protects mummy. I want to be just like daddy too, so I can protect mummy"

I immediately hear them start a serious discussion about me, doesn't even wait to make sure I am gone. "He acts incredibly calm for a king that plans to sacrifice his life to save those of his people." Mother comments, trying to sound proud but her voice comes out strained with emotional pain. "Sometimes true heroes are the ones that smile through silent pain, cry behind closed doors and fight battles no one knows about." I hear Griffin reply, sounding honestly proud. "Yes, our son is inhumanly perfect, he is unlike me in every way." My father painfully mutters. I walk away to spare my ears from his raving. He kind of loves ranting about his mistakes and I am tired of listening.

My father was just twenty years old when he fought the war beside King Viper Great and Sir Hunder Bowman. While Sir Hunder was called the Night Sword for his skill with the sword, my father was called the Deadliest teller for his story telling. Even in the midst of war, he would start a story, one that may or may not have existed. His live for story telling had been captivating. Father knew how to make a story come to life, painting it in the minds of whomever he was sharing it to. But hw had also been a great soldier that was willing to die for the Kingdom and his ruthless fighting skills had made him one of the deadliest.

"He could have simply left the area and been safe, but he took the much more difficult path. He put the lives of others before his own. That's pretty much the definition of hero. To think that I actually tried hitting him in the chin. What was I thinking?" "As I recall, you were thinking that he had hurt your daughter, or dishonored her, and you acted as a good father would. Steve actually admires you for that. He told me he did. He always tells me what a good father I have. I guess he must miss his dad a lot and wants to be sure that I appreciate you and mom. I can't imagine what it must be like for him to have no mother or father." "You look exhausted. You need to try to stop thinking abou

"Really, kid?" “Right now, where is your daddy?” The ugly man teases little Tristan, "I guess he's already hiding right now, like a coward." She's eager to turn this guy into meat paste. How dare he make fun of her son? "My father is not a coward; you, on the other hand, are a coward!" Little Tristan was furious with the ugly guy. His face was flushed, and he glared at the man with sharp eyes. Cristine did nothing but shake her head. Dad will always be a hero in the eyes of his children. It's powerful and admirable.

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.

I hated him as much as I hated his dumb British accent I couldn't stand. "It is with honor that I use this opportunity to tell everyone here how much my father loves to help not just the poor but less privileged" Great, this was obviously a nepotism streak and guess what? He was milking it. So in this situation we're the less fortunate ones and he's what? The kid whose father is a hero. I swear I felt like throwing up. "Even though, he might not know the intent of those he chooses to help" He said as he looked at me. I could see a wicked glare in his electric blue eyes that for some weird reason tickled me.