One particular late night, there was a girl named Christine who was preparing to go home. She turned off her computer, stacked her files, cleared her table, fixed herself, got on the elevator and was soon out of the building. This was just an ordinary night for her, she was used to going home late, and the hours of rigorous work were taking its toll on her. She stretched her lithe body before hailing a bus. She was still a long way from home and this bus ride was but the first. She sat on the first seat she laid eyes on and tried to relax. She couldn't though, for she was aware of somebody watching her. Consciously, she straightened her skirt, subtly blaming herself for wearing a short skirt that showed off most of her white thighs and legs. She began fidgeting on her seat now and before long could not prevent herself from looking at her "admirer". The guy was not creepy-looking nor bore any resemblance to any homicidal maniac. He was rather young and handsome, with thick eyebrows, mesmerizing eyes and lips that seemed to smile most of the time. He was looking at Christine with great admiration and amusement and he seemed rather oblivious to the discomfort that Christine was trying to show. He just sat there enjoying his view of womanly loveliness. And all the time, he was smiling.

Christine got up even before the bus reached her destination. She immediately got off when the bus stopped; yet to her dismay the same guy got off too. She quickened her steps for she knew that she would be passing a darkened alley. Her heart was beating fast now and the tension slowly getting the better of her nerves. She began fumbling her bag, looking for the pepper spray she might use for defense. To make matters worse, her ID fell but she checked herself from stopping and picking it up. That would mean she had to bend down and who knows what might happen. It's better to lose an ID than to lose who knows what. Then she heard the guy call out her name. "Christine! Christine!" yelled the guy but she didn't have the courage to face him. She heard running footsteps and before she knew it, a hand clamped over her mouth and she was being dragged to a dark corner. She could feel hot breath on her neck and her assailant was saying "Don't worry miss, you'll have a good time. You'll enjoy every moment with me. Know what heaven feels like!" Tears began to form in her eyes and she tried hard to ward off her assailant. Calloused hands were groping her breasts and going up her skirt. She tried to fight but her assailant was too powerful for her and she felt a stabbing jab to her solar plexus. She immediately lost all effort and was beginning to pass out. She felt the heavy body of her assailant on top of her and all she could was pray. Then the heavy body was gone. She could feel the chilly air on her bare chest. She couldn't see what was happening but she could hear the struggles. She could hear bones crunching, a lot of cursing and the sudden bang of a gun. Then she felt gentle hands closing her blouse and pulling down her skirt. She heard the gentle assuredness of a voice saying "It's alright Christine, you're safe now." When she woke up, she was home. Her parents were delighted that she was fine and she was home safe. She inquired about the whereabouts of her savior but all her parents could tell her was that they heard gentle knocks on the door and when they opened it, there she was. All that remained of her unknown hero was a note containing a detailed account of the events that happened and the assurance that Christine was fine. As to the identity of Christine's hero, there was but a blank wall.

That was two and a half years ago. Christine got on with her life and was continuously living just as before. Tonight marked two and a half years of that dreadful experience. It taught her to be even stronger and tonight she needed that strength. She was about to tell her boyfriend to call it quits, that she lost her love for him, that it was all over. With confidence and an air of pride, she delivered her sentiments. She disregarded the tears that were running down her boyfriend's cheeks. She was set on ending her relationship this night and nothing could change her mind. She was looking for somebody, an idealized man that formed on her head. She was wishing for her hero though it has been two and a half years and she doesn't even have the faintest idea of who he is. She created an image in her mind different from the qualities that her boyfriend has. She wanted her hero and sacrificing her boyfriend was, though a bit difficult, a needed task for her.

She went on with the break-up. She explained well and promised to be friends with him. She explained her ideal man. All throughout their conversation, her boyfriend tried to defend his feelings. He tried to save the relationship but it was evident to him that things were really over. He was quiet on the latter parts of the conversation and accepted the break-up wholeheartedly. No objections as they say. When Christine finished, her boyfriend gave her a last hug and a kiss. She let him be, for old time's sake. She was definitely sure of the great time she would have once she found her long, lost hero. Her boyfriend got up and politely bade good-bye, first to her family then to her.

As he was leaving, he said to Christine "Thank you for everything." Then slowly walked away. Midway through his walk, he stopped and turned around. Tears were still falling down his cheeks but he was trying to smile. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a letter envelope. "By the way," he said, "you might want this back... as a souvenir." He placed the envelope on the ground and walked away. He got on his car and drove without looking back. Once out of sight, Christine managed to walk towards the envelope and pick it up. An inscription said "From Your Hero." She opened the envelope and shook out the content on her hand. To her amazement, a card fell out. And as she turned to face the light she found, in utter disbelief, her old ID. The same ID she lost the night she was assaulted two and a half years ago. She dropped to her knees and cried.