selling my soul // dylan

Why is it that we die?

We all die.

I have come to terms with myself that everyone I have ever loved, hated, and met will die and be buried under the earth until some day when the world ends. One day I will die and I will be nothing but dust in the wind blowing away to a land far away, across the see. Somewhere not even my mother, who seems to know everything, will go. The true time we are free is when we die. Because then we have no humanly restrictions. Free to do whatever we please. The type of freedom we all seek. The type of freedom we fight for but never get. And maybe thats the reason of war. That we fight until we are free. Fight until we can no longer breathe. Fight until we feel whole.

Death is just the absence of life.

The goal isn’t to live forever, even though many men believe it is. The goal is to create something that will. And that is what we should really strive for. That’s why we fight. Fight because we want our children and their children to have something better than we do. So they can live without fear of losing their brother, sister, friend or lover to something horrible like the Capitol puts us through. Another 24 children have died. Those children so young and had so much in store for them but yet their story ended. Their fight makes the nation angry. It makes my silent angry not more than a blaze, but it is sadness that over fills my heart. That my friends, my own brother, and myself train so we can be apart of it. Why would we do this to ourselves? Is there ever going to be change?

There are echoes of a revolt.

I am afraid. Afraid of what it might lead to. War, disaster or what we all hope it leads to, freedom. I keep my thought of this silent. Losing the people I love would be harder than losing myself to this war. Only in my nightmares do I see Noah motionless with glassy eyes. I trapped in a cage with no hope of helping him while he breathes his last breaths because of another. They say the reason for the games is for entertainment. But it’s more than that. It’s our punishment for seeking freedom. It’s a reminder that no matter how free you feel, you are still trapped. Trapped until you meet death yourself.

I take a deep breath and let it go.

I stand up from my seat I had taken by my own brother and walk away, fearing my thoughts will turn to reality. He looks at me with his fearful eyes and whispers. ”Promise that you won’t hurt yourself anyone, ok, Ava?” Noah’s voice started out steady as if a command but broke down in to a quiet quivering. I simper lighting not saying a word. He turns back around to watch the birds from our back yard under the willow tree. I have never made a promise and broke it. i couldn’t promise him for it would only break his heart and mine when I broken it.

Walking away from Noah was the only thing I could do. Separate myself from the people I love most and let them follow me. But I know for a fact Noah wouldn’t follow. He wasn’t a follower. He was a leader. And that gave me happiness knowing that. But it also gave me fear. I heard footsteps behind me but I kept walking. I followed a path that was worn in only by the footsteps of me and his. Stopping I looked into the distance of the cliff and the town which lit up from the lights and the dawn on the snow. “You know what I have learned,” I say not turning around to face him. “You cannot save people. You can just love them.”