Twenty Three, Haunted

Inherently, why does one want to be free?
Is it free of chaos,
Or the freedom of the ideas that lead to enmity?
Is it to be free of good and evil,
Or the feeling of haunting guilt in memory?
Is it be free of confusion,
Or all the things that lead us to that mystery?
Is it to be free of what others think,
Or the neurotic disturbance of our sanity?
Is it to be free of early years,
Or the anxious flowing of feeling aimlessly?
Is it to be free of fearing the death,
Or the enticement to run away from tragedy?
But isn't every one's life is tragedy at the end?
*
Dear Diary:
"Sometimes a recollection from youth can rejuvenate an old soul, a weary spirit, and a desperate mind. I remember a trip on a happy day. The entire family was going on a trip to Mazandaran Province, by the Caspian sea, where my father had a villa in Ramsar by the beach. This happened only a few months before Aria left Iran for America. My heart was full of life and happiness. It was the first time that I had convinced my father to do something I wanted.
'Father, let us go by train. I've never been on a train.'
"I was extremely surprised when he said yes; nonetheless, he sent the driver and the car ahead of us to Ramsar.
'Okay, we go by train, but we come back by car.'
"In one of train stops, I got out and walked to the woods that enveloped Alborz Mountains. Aria came after me. He acted like a child that day. We ran after each other and played hide and seek. While I was hiding so Aria could find me, I saw this little girl. She was there, too, where I was hiding. I thought she was playing, too; but she wasn't. she was about six years old with brown hair color and beautiful, sad, and large brown eyes. Her clothes were dirty and cheap. She looked at me and suddenly smiled. Quietly she began trusting me. She didn't know who I was. She looked at me with those beautiful, sad eyes. I could hear Aria calling me. But I was unhearing to his call. Something inside me forcefully unmasked itself.
"When I went back into the train, my feelings and thoughts rippled on an event that felt extremely joyous that day; yet, I remembered those brown, sad eyes and I was ashamed of my happiness. Then I thought that someday I would recall this day and relive it, remember myself, Aria, father, mother, and that little girl. Then I thought when that day in future would come, this recollection, perhaps would save me and give me a pleasure beyond measure.
"Now, I am drifting there, back to that breezy spring which is encircling all my feelings in this retrospection; and I feel that memory is standing there for lookout over all my life. Now and forever I will remember that little girl, beautiful, large brown eyes, sad and definitely poor. But mostly I remember Aria, my beloved brother, as he was on that day and trip, playing hide and seek with me. He was twenty two then, I was fourteen. Up to then, our shared joy did not have any limit, it wasn't about being family. Our age difference was not a barrier for us to be close and share secrets.
"when he left for America only a few months later, I felt that part of my being had been fractured. Tonight I have the same feeling. I got engaged to a man that I love; yet I feel fractured and smashed by a force much powerful than any other violence like a force of a tropical storm. But something else happened tonight. I didn't see my father as a man that I knew. He was a new and different person. He was the reflection of Aria."
*

To Be Continued