6. 7 . 53 B.C. Saving souls so soon
Caesar and I were both brought up equally. We were both fed well and tolerated winters the same. To me he was seen as no greater of a Roman than I, until one day my view of him drastically changed. Caesar dared me to jump into the frigid rapid waters with all my armor on, so I did and without a moment’s noticed he pursued. The current vigorously retaliated and both I and Caesar conquered it with great durability.
Taking the lead, I saw the point of destination when something came abrupt me. “Help me, Cassius, or I sink!” This was Caesar, the Caesar everyone came to know and cherish. A bit of me was torn. Save Caesar or have him sorrowfully sink to a somber death? He was suppose to be my equal, but there he was crying like helpless being desperate for urgent care. He has done nothing wrong to me, but my thoughts are clouded with these brute, blunt, blasphemous ruminations of him.
I had a split second to answer this in which my conscience kicked into full effect and did the best it could under the immense amount of pressure. I propelled my thoughts elsewhere and did what I felt was right. I swam with all my might to Caesar’s struggling body and saved him. My beliefs of Epicurus told me that everyone makes their own fate. So why did I have these thoughts? Had Caesar gotten the best of me by the action of sacrificing myself for him? I could’ve easily been in Caesar’s predicament while trying to save him, but I continued on anyways. Why was I so threatened, after all he’s just another Roman soldier, higher in the popularity department. He’s just a little weaker than I.