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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ᰔᩚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
My friend was curled up against me, his breathing shallow and his body sweating like a waterfall. My hands ranked through his black and thick hair, and my eyes silently dart over him.
We didn't pulled the glass shard out, knowing that he could bleed out instantly and quickly. It could probably cause an infection, but now we just have to focus on surviving.
While we stayed silent, I ponder over Cactus's words.
„In this game, you can decide if you want to fight for yourself or for others. What's the strongest source of power?"
His words are a matter of perspective, how someone views the world. If he would ask fart-smeller that, his answer would be himself. But not out of love for himself, but to get a luxurious and selfish lifestyle.
And my answer is both.
I fight for myself, for my inner child and get her everything that her parents didn't gave her. It isn't money that she wants, but simply someone who fights for her. I fight for my precious and loyal dog, to give her beautiful life. I fight for Ali, and I fight to annoy the shit out of Cactus and In-ho.
This is my motivation, and the prize money and my survival is just a tool to achieve it. It isn't my main priority, but the things I can do with it are my priorities.
I want to go around and gift strangers beautiful bouquets of flowers, I want to give the homeless a new reason to continue fighting. I want to make charities happy and help them out, children's home or animal shelters. I want to go to amusement parks with people who never got the chance to experience this.
As my eyes drift down to Ali who's close to dying, I realize that I want him on my side as well. Through all that, I want him to accompany me.
The fact that only one person wins this game is tearing at my heart, my lungs feeling heavy and small as if they are ready to welcome death soon, taking Ali's place with pleasure.
But I don't think it's my decision to decide. I can complain as much as I want, I can scream at the sky for being so unfair, I can say that I don't want Ali to die. In the end, it's not in my control.
Life isn't in my control, and I have to give up on the thought that tells me that I do have everything in control.
This game shows me the harsh reality. I don't have anything underneath my wing, because in the end, I can only fly or fall. Anything that comes rocketing toward me isn't mine to control.
„Ali?" I whispered and tap his wet cheek, feeling as if I splash my finger into a rain puddle. He startles a bit, his eyelids fluttering open and he made a short hum in acknowledgment.
„I feel nervous about you falling asleep." I confessed with a worried frown, feeling deep anxiety that there's a small chance about him waking up.
„Then talk with me. Anything to keep me awake and soothe your fear." He croaked out, before he took a breath and moved himself in a sitting position, so he wouldn't be tempted to fall asleep.
