I wonder sometimes about Rome and the gladiators, and about the people who watch them. I wonder how many best friends were forced to fight. I wonder how many refused. I wonder how many died. And I wonder how they could live with themselves afterwards.
I wonder if maybe, the people who watched – not all, but some – wanted a specific person to win, because they needed them to win. Maybe they needed, just for once, for the good guy to win. Sometimes, I just needed to believe in one thing, and when that fell apart, it almost killed me. Maybe they felt the same. Maybe that kind of thing happens all over the world. I wonder how many people die because something they believed in failed. I’m not really talking about religion, specifically. Just anything that someone needs to happen.
I wonder how many men became gladiators to pay off debts. I wonder how many wives went to the Colosseum, desperately waiting for the fight to end – with their husband as the victor. I wonder how many men actually thought about the lives they took, and wondered if they would be next.
I wonder how many died bravely, and how many begged for mercy.
I wonder what I would have done.