eszter summit {d7} cb. fin.

Death. 


Something that surrounds everyone. Something that seems to especially surround my family. They seem to think that misfortune only falls on us, but they don't understand that it's not only us. Whenever they talk about themselves I bite my tongue, knowing none of them are worth the argument. Nobody is worth any argument, most of them are too immature to understand. There's bigger things then us, nobody's problems can be bigger than death. They sit their biting their fingers or pacing the halls, fearing what might come next. What may happen. Not me, it doesn't matter at this point. They worry about being reaped, about losing someone else, the possibility of someone else dying. But it doesn't matter to me. 


I'm already dead inside.