Today I will tell you a story. It may seem like one told too often, but it isn’t. Don’t be fooled by the words I use, as they may seem common, for I am the wind. I go everywhere, leaving my mark in even distribution. However, do not let this trick you. The wind has been everywhere, but brings something new with it each time, much like this story.

      It was a beautiful spring morning on the east side of town, the children playing in their respective sectors, the adults, almost in unison, walked out of their homes with the same, artificial smile, as they made their way to their automobiles. It was what looked like a perfect day, but looks can be deceiving.
      The same day arrived on the west side of town, but it was almost as if the sun was partial to the east side, shining with more radiance towards it, and as if there wasn’t enough vibrance to go around, the sun simply shone dully on the west side. Many would say this statement is ludicrous, but if you had ever been there, you would disagree.
       It was known by everyone, near or far, big or small, that while the east side was a utopian society, the west was a dystopian society. Life ran so smoothly in the east, there was total unity, unison, and understanding of each other. This was their golden rule: the three u’s. Meanwhile, the only thing the west diligently stood by was the fact that nobody had the right to force anyone to follow someone’s belief of what they thought was a good rule. The west loathed the east, and the east despised the west, and if it wasn’t for the east’s non-violence rule, they would have broken into war faster than water breaking through a dam made of twigs. The east mocked the west, claiming they were too incompetent to make a set of valuable laws. Not one person admired their strength in character, allowing them to go beyond rules and laws. Nobody, except one young girls. A young damsel she was indeed, one who changed the future of both societies.
        I was never partial, as the wind must travel everywhere, however I always enjoyed a trip to the eastern society’s Smith Family Farm. I had been everywhere, but was never quite as amused anywhere else, as I was on this farm. A young boy on the farm never failed to entertain me.
         On a chilly October morning, I decided to pay a visit to my friend, Blaze Smith, the 15 year old boy of the Smith Family. My breeze gently glided across the eastern side of town. Like the sun, I too enjoyed this side more. The west side of town was a place the sun, the rain, and I feared to go. It was a place of war, of plague, of illness. However the eastern side always remained calm, and never disrespected the Wise One’s wishes. The Wise One was the leader of the East. He made the rules, determined who was fit to be part of the society, who was to be eliminated for good, and who the offenders were, who were also exterminated. 
         I playfully roamed to the Smith Family Farm, pleased to see Blaze outside, laying on a stack of hay. In the East there was a strict caste system. The Wise One was always at the top, followed by doctors, the lawyers, policemen, artists, and the farmers. Although the Smiths were at the bottom of the caste system, they were loved by many, especially nature’s gifts; the sun, the rain, myself, the snow, and many more. We received such respect from these Farmers, respect we had never received by anyone else. The Smith Farmers worshipped these elements, and the fruit of their loyalty was an extremely successful farm. In fact, the family had more than enough money to advance in society’s ranking, however they loved their position as farmers. I was quite fond of Blaze Smith, not because he was funny, sensible, or caring, but because he was curious. Being a 15 year old boy boy distanced from friends, as he didn’t attend any school, whenever he had the chance, he used his imagination to create friends. I was his best friend.
        “Windy?” Blaze always called me by my pet name, Windy. “What’s on the the other side of town,”he would ask almost everyday. Every time he asked me this question, I simply howled. The activity that went on in the west was too foul for a 15 year old boy to be acquainted with.
          One fine morning, Blaze was unable to feel my presence. Whenever he couldn’t feel my breeze, he took a long walk around the farm. Usually, he would sense my arrival pushing past him as we walked. He ran into his father’s room. Their cottage was a very small one. Luckily there were only three of them living in the cottage (His father, mother and himself), so the two rooms and extra space for cooking and storage were apt.
           “Hello, Father,” Blaze slowly walked into his father’s room. His father didn’t hear him. He was looking at something, a letter of some sort. That’s odd, Blaze remarked to himself, Father doesn’t know how to write or read. Where did he get that from? “Father, are you okay? Where did you get that from?” Blaze spoke louder this time. He was beyond curious, he was concerned. His father flinched as he heard Blaze. Blaze discovered his father was not reading the letter, he was simply staring at it. He immediately set the letter down and walked to his son, embracing him lovingly.
          “Son, whatever you do, never leave me or your mother,” he said completely out of the blue, as if he didn’t even hear his son’s questions. However Blaze knew his father heard him. 
         Leonard Smith was a troubled man. Nobody knew why. It was one of his greatest talents to conceal his emotions.
         “Okay father,” Blaze said reluctantly, “May I take a walk around the farm?”
         “Of course,” his father said, looking him straight in the eye, as if Blaze was his last hope for living. Leonard walked out of the room, his hand reaching for his face. Blaze knew he was crying.
          Before Blaze’s mother, Heaven Smith, married Leonard, she was the daughter of a doctor, which was quite high up in the society’s caste system, however her love for Leonard was so strong, she left her luxuries to be a farmer’s wife. Luckily, when Heaven was a young girl, she was educated, and knew how to read and write. Unfortunately, farmers did not obtain the privilege of being educated. Heaven Smith taught Blaze how to write and read, as she knew one day it would prove to be very useful. Today was that day.
         Blaze was on his way out of his father’s room, but there was something forcing him back. It was the letter. He ran to his father’s cot and picked up the letter, only to find dozens in the one envelope. He began to read a few of them.

          Dear Mother,
           I hope all is well. I miss you terribly. I trust everything is alright in the Eastern Society. Unfortunately I cannot say the same about the West. I will not lie. It is brutal, it is scarring, it is frightening. I do not know when I will see you, but I know one day, we will meet. Not in secret. We will meet when this is over. When the two societies find peace. Until then, please write back. I know you must still be angry, but please try and forgive me. Tell Father I miss him terribly.
          Yours Truly,
                 Ava.
            
     Dear Ava,
              You seem to trust your instincts a little too much. How could anything ever be alright without you? I wish you would come back and meet your baby brother; Blaze. We have recently adopted him, to fill the void you created in our hearts.  Why won’t you come back to us? Do not fret. Our rage died down, but everyday since you left, I can feel my soul dying little by little. You are correct. One day we will meet. Not as strangers, not as enemies, but we will reunite as family, for good.
            Love,
                Mother

            Dear Mother,
              Please convey my greetings to Father. I am forever in your debt. You have taught me to write, you have taught me to read, but most importantly, you have taught me to believe in myself, which is something I was unable to do in the East. You all pity the West for its war, and plague but do you not know that this is the result of people believing in themselves? With every storm, comes a rainbow. This may be a dark place, but at least I am free.
            Sincerely,
               Ava
        Blaze stared down at the letters. His head was churning all his thoughts, he was unable to keep up with all of them. Are these from my sister? I have a sister? What is she doing in the West? Why did she refer to the West as a bad place? He was so confused. He had to ask his mother, though he was terrified to do so.
         He set the letters exactly where he found them, in case his father noticed the difference in position. Externally, he looked very calm about the situation, but inside it was like his brain stopped functioning. Reading these letters gave him a piercing burst of agony, in ways he couldn’t explain. I knew why.
        Only a few days ago, he was immersed in a dream.
       There was blood everywhere. There were bloodstains on the streets, there was blood oozing out of bodies, even the sky had a reddish tint. Blaze walked down the street. Unknowingly, he felt his heart drop a little bit with every step. He was carrying something on his shoulders with every muscle he moved, it was inevitably fear. He knew he was dreaming, as the East would have never looked like this. But where was he? All he could do was keep walking, only hoping someone wouldn’t come up behind him and….
        Suddenly he saw a man behind him, wearing black pants, a black shirt, and a black mask, and he was holding a knife. Without thinking twice, Blaze ran. He ran until he couldn’t breathe. As he ran, something caught his eye. As he was running from the man, he passed many huts, most of them destroyed, ash dripping from the roof, blood caressing the entrance frame. However a particular hut, bearing minor damage, drew his attention. He ran straight inside and hid behind a cot. After a while of hiding, he confirmed the man in black was gone, he stood up, only to see a beautiful woman standing in front of a large piece of fine glass. He could see her reflection. This must be a mirror, he thought to himself, the ones Mother kept telling me she would give me when I got older.The women turned around to face Blaze. He tried hiding, but it was too late.
     “I’m sorry ma’am I didn’t see anyone in thi--,” He said, soon realizing she wasn’t listening. “Hello?” There was no answer. This definitely must be a dream. She must not be able to hear  or see me. The woman was stunning. She wore a long, blood red dress. The way she wore the dress, with a longing expression on her face, he could tell the blood red color of the dress symbolized her struggle for freedom. He didn’t know how he knew this, but from the moment he laid eyes on her, he felt a strong connection with her. The women was significantly older than him, and had dark blue eyes with a hollowed look in them. She turned back to the mirror, staring at herself, and he could see her reflection, her hollowed eyes soon reflected hatred, not towards anything but herself. He exhaled a deep sigh and sat down on her cot. She picked up a piece of paper, unlike any he had ever seen. Back in the east, when his mother was teaching him to write, Blaze only saw snow white paper. However looking at the paper she was holding, smeared with ash, he realized where he was. It all makes sense! The man in black, the atmosphere, the mysterious man, the women, the paper… I must be in the west!
         
       The day after Blaze had this strange dream, he came to me and told me everything, disclosing all his inner feeling to me, like an artist pouring his emotions onto the canvas. Just by his descriptions I knew the women was none other than Ava Smith, his sister. While Blaze was reading the letters, I peeked into the room. I simply glided through their entrance space, and to Blaze, where I found him reading. Upon the sight of this, I could feel it. I could feel his curiosity turning into a spark. He may not have looked like a flame had been lit inside of him, but for some reason I knew it, and my suspicions were correct...
     “Mother,” he spoke lightly, his confusion was reflected in his tone. I, peeking through the window, was a bit surprised he was able to maintain such a stoic expression on his face. Obviously, Heaven was unable to hear his soft voice. “MOTHER!” Blaze smith had cracked. His mother ran into the room, worried something had happened to him. Her face dropped. She was already scared when she rushed in, but seeing her son sitting next to the open letters, her eyes began to water. Without another word, she took her son by the hand, sat him down on the cot, and thought where to begin.
     After that, I decided to give them privacy. I left immediately, knowing these two need space, therefore I have not the slightest idea of what she told him, however it probably went a little something like this…

    Everyone in the eastern society loved Ava Smith like their own child. She was the ideal child, companion, and human being. She always helped everyone out in the society, whether a man who had trouble reading, or a lost child. She sat for hours helping her friends solve their problems. Ava was also the definition of beauty. She had dark blue eyes that always had a spark of enthusiasm in them. Her long brown hair glistened in the sun, almost always adorned with fresh flowers neatly placed in them. Ava was perfect in every way. She was taught to never be selfish, always tell the truth, and most importantly stand up for what she believed in. One day when an unfriendly girl encountered Ava on the Smith Family Farm (she was around five years old at the time), she convinced Ava that farming was the worst occupation there was, even though Ava loved it. She went home and explained to her parents that they had to advance in the caste system. Her mother simply laughed.
    “Who gave you that idea?” Heaven was almost amused. She knew Ava was eager to become a farmer, and considered this a joke. When Ava told her parents about the strange girl who insulted her family’s lifestyle, they became very concerned. “No matter what anyone says,”Her mother said to her, “always stick up for what you believe in.” With that, she left the room, not articulating this any further. Heaven and Leonard thought this would simply teach Ava to protect herself from bullies like this. However this was not the case. This lesson went further than her mind and heart, it went into her soul.
      When Ava came of age, still loved by everyone in the society, she was chosen to step up to the position of The Wise One, which was truly an honor as she was a farmer and she was the first female to be chosen. Her family was thrilled, however Ava wasn’t. Ever since that day when she was five, she always stuck to what she believed in. Over the years, she realized she wasn’t happy, she just pretended to be. One day, she went to meet the Wise One to enquire about her upcoming position, but soon regretted it. She opened the doors to his chamber, only to find a man kneeling before the Wise One’s seat. She couldn’t hear anything, however the sight sufficed the scene.
        “I’m incredibly sorry sir, however you have failed to meet the weight expectations for your age group, and you know what that means…” The Wise One declared, without an ounce of mercy in his tone or facial expression. The man’s face turned white. He was unable to speak. With that, the Wise One snapped his finger, and his guard walked over with his sword. With one swing, the man’s head was decapitated.
      She soon figured out that the Eastern Society was worse than the West, as the East forced its citizens into decisions and eliminated those who stood up to them. While the West was a dangerous place where even neighbors could come behind you and stab you, at least its citizens had freedom. Although her feelings regarding this matter were serious, she told nobody, however I knew what was in her mind, as much like her brother, she poured her soul out to me, especially as an adolescent.  The eve of the day she would be promoted to the position of Wise One, she ran away from home leaving a mere note. I never saw the note she sent, however I did see her parents’ reactions. Her father showed no emotion, creating the idea that he was angered by her decision, although deep down he forgave her and just wished she would come back. Her mother was devastated, blaming herself for her daughter’s actions. She cried for days, wrote to Ava for months, and mourned for years. When Ava left home to go the Western society, a place she felt she could be free, Blaze was adopted, and Ava vowed that one day she would meet him, even if its the last thing she would ever do.
    I waited patiently for Blaze outside him home, and after hours of waiting, when it became dark, I spotted him slowly walking out, his face frozen into a lifeless expression. “Blaze,” I called out, but he walked right past me, ignoring me everytime I called out to him. As if he didn’t hear my howls, he kept walking and grabbed his bike. “Where are you going?”
       “I’m going to find my sister,” he said. With that he took off, and I knew these were the last words he would ever say to me. I pushed past him, hoping my winds would push him back, but it was useless, he had a passion to make things right, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him, however I followed behind him faithfully.
         He biked for hours, his limbs dying out little by little, his legs moving slower and slower, yet he kept going. When he finally reached a small hut, one that resembled his description from his dream, he jumped off his bike and ran into the hut. Inside stood a beautiful woman who turned to face Blaze. I knew that the woman was indubitably Ava. “Who are you,” she asked reaching for her knife, “What have you come for?”
         Blaze stood in awe. He had no words. “It-its me...Blaze.” he was positive she wouldn’t believe him and simply stab him, however she dropped the knife and approached him. She was about to kill him, but she noticed how similar their features were. She walked over, now much closer to him and for about 20 minutes she just stared at him. Suddenly, a smile appeared on her face, and she embraced him. He also threw his arms around her. For the first time, brother and sister were united. She pulled him away to look at his face. This was her brother. Before she could even say a word, Blaze grunted and his eyes bulged forward. He fell forward onto the floor. A knife was standing on his back, blood oozing out. The man in black was standing behind him, the man described in Blaze’s dream, his arm still extended from the throw. He was real. Tear drops formed in Ava’s eyes. She dropped to the floor next to Blaze. Tears were pouring down, her cheeks becoming pale, her body becoming motionless.
         “What have you done?! Who are you?!” She screamed angrily at the man. Her voice sounded as if she was becoming mental. The man stared straight into Ava’s eyes, with a vengeful look in his. He stood there, simply staring at her, until finally he pulled his black mask off. Ava gasped. “WISE ONE?” She exclaimed in between sobs.
       “Yes Ava, it is me, the former Wise One. When you came of age, I was thrilled to be passing my position down to the one I trusted, the one I believed could sustain order in our society. However, when you left, I was forced to hand this position to my useless nephew. Because of your decision, I put my anger into some use and I have made a change in career,” He said, his words simple, but his eyes ready to kill.
        “Change in career?! YOU’RE A MURDERER!” She was hysterical.
        “Yes, you are suffering aren’t you? Suffer the way the East did when you left your society when they needed you the most!” The former-Wise One was enraged. He yanked the knife out of Blaze’s back and walked away. Ava was crying so hard she could barely breathe. She turned Blaze over onto her lap. He wasn’t dead yet.
       “This is exactly why I have come here, to mend the scars between the Eastern and Western societies.” Blaze managed to speak, obviously using all the strength left in his body, as he was in serious pain. However, Ava was in far more pain than he was, watching her own brother die in front of her. She couldn’t build the strength to speak. “Wouldn’t the world be a better place if--” and before he could finish, Blaze died in her arms.

          Many years later, on Blaze’s death anniversary, a ceremony, conducted annually, was taking place in honor of Blaze. Years after his death, the societies untied after Ava convinced them both to sign a peace treaty. Blaze’s sacrifice was used as an icon to represent their unity after years of struggle. On his funeral day, the doors were shut, therefore I was shunned on my best friend’s death day, however I remembered him outside. I remembered him, and imagined his legacy, including the sentence he couldn’t finish in Ava’s arms before he passed away. I knew exactly what he was going to say, and I say it everyday in hope that one day people will realize what he was trying to convey. I will tell you on the condition that you ponder upon what he was trying to tell us. It may seem completely irrelevant to you, but it isn’t, it never is. See where you can connect to his words, as even if it may seem impossible, you just have to look a little deeper.
 
   “Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we practiced non-violence? Both societies used violence as the key. The West openly exterminated everyone, while the East quietly eliminated individuals who were deemed misfits in the society. Although the rivalry between these two societies is demolished, the kind of inhumane thinking that led to their hatred towards each other still exists all around the world. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we practiced compassion and peace, rather than non-violence?”