The somewhat empty Colosseum was full today. Poor and rich alike chatter among others, excitement building within as they all discuss the same event. The gladiator games are about to start. From where we sat in the Colosseum, I could see that the gladiator games were about to begin. My little brother Lars was bouncing erratically in his seat, the excitement visibly bouncing off of him. “Camari, the games are about to start! The Samnites will be fighting today! Aren’t you excited?” Lars chatted nonstop about the gladiators fighting, and though he was talking to me, it was obvious that he was starting to annoy the other spectators. “Shut that demon’s mouth, or I’m going to have to do it myself,” The people below us yelled out. Just to be safe, I told Lars to stop talking, just so we wouldn’t have to find out if those people’s threats were not real. Luckily, it was only a few more minutes until the gladiators came to battle. The first gladiator was a slave that went unnamed, only equipped with nothing but a small sword and useless shield, and the other was named Tiberius, who was fighting for fame, equipped with more useful weapon artillery at hand. I quickly knew who was going to win, but the quick horrors of the brutal violence and the cries of death echoing through the…show more content… The next morning, I headed to one of the Christian churches. Lars was out of his room, but he refused to make eye contact with me. Apparently he was still upset over yesterday. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t blame him. He was just a kid he didn’t know the true meaning of these games or what they are representing. Power, leadership, sport, he didn’t know any of it. He is just an innocent little kid that just tagged along to these games innocently. I would make it up to him though, somehow. I just had to finish up some business. I would have to start somewhere, and the peaceful, non-violent Christians looked like a good