Title: No One Remembers the Faceless
Summary: No one forgets the rebels. The faces that ignite a spark that turns into a raging inferno that changes everyone's lives. But everyone forgets the faceless ones, the ones that stood behind the rebels to provide the timber for the changing flame.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star-Crossed.
We are the forgotten three of the Atrian Seven.
No one remembers us. The crowd's eyes skip over us, not bothering to acknowledge our faces or the character we have. Especially not with the way the humans dress us in dull gray and brown garbs, wishing for us to fade away into the dirt along with the rest of our race. We are dull and faceless, just the way they want us to be.
We are chosen to be a part of the Seven because we are good. We never back down from the hate. We believe in a better future. We never retaliate to the bullying. We never draw unwanted attention to ourselves. We are the Jackie Robinsons of the Atrians, the bridges to a new life without hate. We are good.
But no one remembers the good ones do they?
They remember Roman, the son of Nox, the one to inherit Nox's hope for a better future through integration.
They remember Sophia, the first Atrian to ever be on a human sports team.
They remember Drake, the big and violent one who always insists Atrians are superior to humans.
They remember Teri, the Trag leader's daughter who upholds her mother's beliefs and refuses to let anyone walk over her.
They burn, bright in their flames, for their causes.
These four...they aren't good. Not like us. They push and they push, showing so many flaws as they fight for freedom. They hit people back and yell and scream at the injustice. They show their imperfect selves, the frustrated ones who refuse to be patient about correcting injustice. They refuse to acknowledge how they have to be patient before their lives can get better. They are the sparks that ignite the revolution.
And the most frustrating part? They are the ones that bring change.
They ignore us, the ones who wait patiently for humans to realize that we had dreams too. We wait for them to see past their hate and our markings to see the real people in us. Humans refuse to do their part in the integration program because they don't want to see us. They refuse to make a change with us.
Why? Why aren't we good enough to be seen? Why can't anyone recognize our struggle?
We aren't just good. We are perfection.
And ignored.
After all, no one likes to remember the timber that burns under the dazzling flames.
