Why I Fight
I wonder what it used to be like sometimes. What people did to pass the time. How they lived. How they died. It's all the same here, really. Everybody lives the same, dies the same but I don't think that many people see it my way. I don't think people see it at all.
The people here live under stereotypes divided by class each one judged by the other. The towns people watch the poor die of starvation and infection children and babies and old men and women injured miners struggling mothers they think there dirty; nothing more than rats yet they are almost as beat down,souls crushed, taught from the start that they mean nothing. The poor think the towns people are snobs. They think they're brats; inconsiderate people who do nothing for anyone but themselves yet they don't except food when offered too caught up in the fact that its charity to realise they really need it.
Everyone oppressed everyone, struggling. Everyone so scared of death they forget to live before it's too late. Everyone disabled caught in nets lights going out one by one smashed to pieces. Scared and starving the day were born and even more so when we die. Faces smudged with coal, tear stains running down our cheeks and drowning our hearts. And I watch them draw them as they live. Some smile and go through life erasing the bad, forgetting the faces of the dead as they pass. It's how we all must live; all but me. I strive to remember so I don't forget. I'm tired of watching people die. Children die for no reason. It sickens me so I sit here and I remember them. I remember why I have to fight.
hi umm this is the first thing I have ever posted on fanfiction and I would appreciate it if you gave me some feedback and point out any spelling mistakes I might of made. -ellabumbella