Forgotten What I Started Fighting For Mga Nobela at Kwento

With a resolve that was as unwavering as the scar on my face, I made a split-second decision that would alter the course of the battle. The fabric of my shirt slid off my shoulders, revealing the scars that crisscrossed my body a visual testament to the trials I had faced, the battles I had fought, and the strength that had been forged in the crucible of adversity. The arena was now privy to a raw vulnerability, a glimpse into the past that had shaped me into the person I was today.

I was fighting for something they could never understand. I moved. And the war truly began.

Not just for revenge. But for names. Faces. People who turned on us. People who didn’t. That’s where I’ll start. Because this war won’t be won with just fire. It’ll be won with memory. And I remember everything.

Knew what I remembered. Knew what I didn’t. Knew what I was about to find. A cold realization settled deep in my chest. Heavy. Unavoidable. > This didn’t start today. My fingers curled slightly. Tight. > It didn’t start at the cemetery. My breath came out slow. Uneven. > And whatever I forgot three years ago… My eyes lifted. To the empty space where the figure had been. To the place that didn’t feel empty anymore. > It hasn’t forgotten me.

I said as I wore my earpods and started listening to music. I don't know why she had to remind me of the terrific past which I am trying my best to push behind or forget. It isn't easy for me because what happened on my sixteenth birthday is still fresh in my mind despite how much I try to forget it. Calling it stupidity or cowardness cause I frankly don't care. I am just sure that as time goes by, I will forget it. It won't be a flesh wound but a healed blotch and I will celebrate the victory of breaking the bondage of my past. I closed my eyes as I let myself be carried away by the lyrics.

- The past - it was pain, longing that they never let go, they could not leave the consciousness burning in labor. Such is fate... And in the morning, the swearing father almost by force pushed his sleepy and absent-minded son out of the house, and the whole family dragged him to the arena complex. The guy did not think about victory at all, there was emptiness in his heart and unwillingness to do something. Excitement and rage appeared later, when the stands closed with a buzzing rumble, when opponents shouted something nearby, when the heralds announced the start of the fights. He also suddenly understood Yarsi. I understood what it means to go into battle in order to forget, not to rememb

Or will you say, my friend, Let this be the end, And at our side will you fight For a future that is right? The battle is won, but not the war, Let’s remember that we want more, Freedom is what we’re fighting for. Your Secret Keeper

And I am tired of feeling so helpless. For so long I have fought for one thing, my father, and for my retribution. I have found peace in my craziness and my unchecked temper. I have been a badass for a while until I met four crazy beautiful bastards, and I forgot that part of me. I laid it to rest. But I think it's time o picked it up like armor and wear it proudly. Because no one is going to do it. No one is going to save me, that I have established.

Just like I remembered. And I didn’t want it to ever go away. “You’re a fighter, Clint. Fight for this. Fight for your life.” I shook my head. “I’m tired of fighting, Mom. I don’t want to do it anymore.” “She’s waiting for you, sweetheart.” “You’re a fighter, Clint. Fight for this. Fight for your life.” I furrowed my brow as my mother’s voice distorted itself. “You’re a fighter, Clint. Fight for this. Fight for your life.”

Everyone did their part in this war, despite the odds that were against us. “I had forgotten a long time ago. There had been times that I didn’t know what we were fighting for. I can’t tell you how many times I just wanted to take everyone and just hide. Now I know that we can’t run, regardless of how many of our lives are lost.” Ryker said, drawing my attention back to him.