Villain in Every Story

I never wanted the crown made of thorns — only someone had to wear it.

They call me the villain because I stood where the light refused to go. Every sun casts a shadow, and I was born in it, shaped by it, blamed for it.

I held the door while everyone escaped and stayed when it locked behind me. They remember the fire, not the hands that burned keeping it contained. Mercy looks different when you’re the one standing between monsters and something softer than you.

Heroes get forgiven for what they destroy.

Villains remember every name.

I became the storm so their skies could stay clear. I swallowed the blame because hope needed a place to live that wasn’t me. No one asks what it costs to be the necessary evil — only why you didn’t stay kind.

Every dawn needs a night to end.

I am that night.

And I stayed so they wouldn’t have to.

I am that night.