My teacher must like having us write these things, although he doesn’t actually read ANY of it. ^^;;

Mother’s face is pale and she walks through the house like a phantom. I can’t say I feel any pity for her; she asked for it. She told him, URGED him to go and fight for his city. "Either come back with your shield or on it." She’d quoted calmly, the night before he was to go away. But now both her sons are dead, and she has no one to blame but herself.

I snort softly, turning back to my javelin. I throw it as hard as I can, trying to ignore the woman who is my mother, watching me from the shadows.

It lands neatly at the base of a tree’s trunk with a slight ‘twang’ sound.

Killed by a spear through the stomach my brother was, he didn’t die until hours later. And in all that time, he never made a sound. More than what I can say for my mother. What a weak woman.

I yank the javelin out of the tree.

She’s a disgrace to her city, grieving like an Athenian woman. If she’d been stronger the baby wouldn’t have died either.

Another throw of the javelin. Try and yank it out. The stupid thing’s stuck.

…

Damn, now it’s broke. I should have known any javelin used by that woman was no good. I’ll go buy a good one tomorrow.

Walking back into the house I throw the pieces by the door. The helots will clean it up, that’s what they’re here for.

There’s nothing more to do here. I can’t stand staying for long lately, every time Mother comes into the room she looks at me balefully and even attempts at getting me to eat something or other she’s made or to talk to her.

"It’s good." She says.

"You disgust me." I answer back as I though I was commenting on the harvest.

"You need to eat." She almost pleads. "I’m not hungry." I have not eaten since yesterday lunch; if my brother could do it surely I can too. She looks ready to cry.

"Why don’t you live in Athens?" I spit the word, "Maybe their lifestyle is more suitable for a woman such as you. That is one of the worst insults anyone can say to a Spartan; being compared to one of those soft, money-grabbing Athenians. Thinking about them makes my blood start to boil inside, by outside I remain cool.

It was one of those disgusting Athenians that killed my brother. My brother! It must have been a fluke, or he must have angered the gods; how else could a Spartan lose to an Athenian? If I were not a woman I would go myself and cut off the man’s head. But because I cannot, my father will. My brave, strong Spartan father. How could a man like him marry such a woman as my mother? How did a woman such as she produce my brother and I? Surely she showed her true weakness last week, when her child was born still. At least she is up and moving, it would have been an even greater embarrassment if she’d had to be bedridden.

The door closes behind me. Not slamming as my mother’s does. I have control, I am strong. I will produce strong sons that will crush those Athenians. I will make my Sparta proud.

Eh, because I was just making stuff up as I went, the story isn’t totally smooth, in my opinion. I only got the idea that she would ‘hate’ her mother towards the middle, but in the beginning she almost sounds sorry for her.

Little history note for those who don’t know; the Athenians and Spartans were bitter enemies that constantly fought. Both of them were drastically different; the Spartans believed in being strong and showing no emotion (all were trained to be athetic), and were viewed as barbarians by the Athenians. The Spartans viewed the Athenians as money-grabbing fools and--- whoops, sorry, dipping deeper into a history lesson…..