I felt my chest rise and fall very quickly, maybe it was nervousness, my untreated asthma or was that how it felt like dying? I always thought about this possibility, I always believed that I would find a way to avoid it, a mistake that sacrificed a lot, a mistake that today I was going to try, a mistake that today I was going to fix

How I ended up here, lying on the ground, with a giant sword or dagger in my stomach, bloody, well I did what heroes are supposed to do by sacrificing themselves, I did it for a friend and because I knew that's how it would end or I would give them a chance. to end this war; Death was always a taboo for me, something we can never control, my mother told me often, I always tried to avoid it, but now I was weak and with my asthma increased due to not treating it almost all my life, it was obvious that I was not going to survive and I I knew it at least i die like a hero, a hero a word that cause sometimes mi stomach hurt, for the society i was a monster, i know that i make mistakes before, but for them no matter what i do i will always be the villian of the story, but what if i told my story, what if a "villian" told the story.