A Simple Plea

Enough. I will not be pushed aside anymore. I refuse to be used like a doormat to the entrance of greatness. No longer will people overlook me. No longer will they completely fail to recognise me and my brethren’s importance in creating a hero. We are the reason you even get your heroes. We support the very path they take. We work hard and align together to show your supposed heroes their destiny. Without us, they would never make it. And what do they do? Wipe their grubby boots all over us as they hurry along the path of fame and adoration, leaving us covered in mud and other unsavoury matter.

For generations we have kept quiet, fulfilling our duty as something perhaps considered to be even less than a sidekick if we are considered at all. We have a split second of admiration before the focus shifts to the hero. A split second of gratitude for all our efforts in guiding a hero. Without us, your heroes would all be dead. Without us, they would not survive the fatal blows of their enemies. Yet do we get our rightful recognition? Nay. You expect us to be there, so does your hero. Everyone takes us for granted. They always have and probably always will, except perhaps for the few that read this, but I may have lost your ability to be grateful to us through my spiteful tone. You must understand my kind dies for your heroes. And not always in the most graceful way.

My rage began rather young. I would see it happening all the time. A wannabe hero would come forth and proclaim his destiny. We would guide them to what they seek and along the way, many of us would perish for our assistance. The heroes almost always killed us, if not, they crushed us with their incessant need for drama or lack of ability to fight back. Yet we remained. We comforted and supported your heroes; helped them to take the onslaught of their enemies. And what did your heroes do in times of anger and frustration? Well of course we were the only ones nearby in those dark moments. Your heroes have kicked us and ripped us to shreds, stabbed us and cursed at us. This is not uncommon. The abuse we take is unbelievable, but to your so-called heroes, we don’t even register as living, feeling beings. That makes everything better, does it not? Your heroes must have some serious problems to believe that our quietness means we cannot feel their wrath. Our lack of response seems to reinforce it too. Heroes do not care how badly they treat us, to them, we are plentiful and are therefore disposable – especially in moments of anger. Imagine using that logic on your own kind.

As I became older in the scheme of time and eternity, I realised that this cycle would never stop. Not unless I spoke up about it, or rather wrote about it. Consider this a mild complaint. Consider this a protest. If your heroes are coming to face their fate, we will always be there. We have no choice. I beg of you, however, to please tell your heroes not to forsake my kind. I plead for them to be as gentle as they can. To treasure us and care for us when they have a spare moment. I understand the hierarchy, I do, but that does not mean we are undeserving of acknowledgement. While it might feel like your kind is on top of the world and can do it all on your own, it is in fact the world that determines your liveability. We are a part of it just as much as you are. We shape the paths your heroes walk. We bless the very earth when your heroes succeed and you all reap the rewards of our thankless work. As I have said; your heroes would not make it without us. We make it clear where their enemy resides and what path they must take to master their abilities. We do so much more than anyone would ever care to admit. Most of your kind considers the care of us to be a chore. I wish we could switch positions even just for a day.

By now you should know that which you are being addressed by, but I realise my cryptic and rather insignificant cries are vague in nature. You see, when I tell you the truth of my purpose and what I am, I fear you will disregard this. I fear you will snort and laugh at the absurdity. Then again, I say with sore defence, you probably are not even a hero yet let alone one in training. I am sorry to be so snide but believe me, this is a plea that will go over many heads. While my kind is happy to die for you and your heroes – for it is our duty – I ask only that we do not die needlessly or at the hands of your beloved heroes. The world is whole with each part of life serving its duty and we will continue to serve. I hope that your kind, flying so high above everything else in the hierarchy, can take a moment of precious time to peer down through the clouds of your empire and appreciate the rest of us.

Finally, I would like to thank those of your kind who do so already. The ones that are bound to the world like we are. The ones that sense their own insignificance in the endless cosmos and through that can lower their ego to the likes of my own kind. It is the connection of life and the realisation of its interconnectedness that keeps the world afloat. Even if it is not specifically my kind, I would appreciate it if you personally would be grateful to something you perceive to be lower than you for all that it does – even if it does not seem to serve you directly. On that note, I suppose I owe it to you to reveal my painfully simply identity as…