We march against those who are wealthy who seek wealth just for the sake of wealth. The self entitled. those whom the media consumes. the ones who see the injustices, but stand idle. those who seek power for powers sake. those who hold opinions for things that they know nothing about. those who won't sacrifice anything for those who they don't know and never will. Those who harbor hate, or opinions because they're told to by their societies. Our flags white, we march to change the very nature of man. Our battles fought with words, but met with brute force.
A large brutish man stood before me, attempted to convince me that violence is needed in some select cases. on an average day I'd cease the conversation immediately, but our people, MY people, being treated with such hostilities for speaking their minds, following their hearts. I seek not to become a militant rebellion, but our numbers dwindle faster than they grow, the media blacking us out, as if we don't exist. he wasn't particularly charming, but his notions were … I'm not sure how to put it, the need to become militant is there, but the will isn't, it'd go against everything we stand for. ***
Staring wishfully into a mirror, eying my scrawny frame, my long dark hair, wondering what i have become. my willingness to even consider violence in order to gather fame for our organization. those whom we would condemn do the same. tears slowly roll down my cheeks, my eyes cold and removed. I know what we must do, I need not like it but we do what we must, for if you're not on our page, you're not in the right book. ***
in a small rundown office sort of things, a weathered desk, a room full of clutter, a strange shade of red couch against the wall, facing the entrance to the room, surrounded by Flynn, and the brutish man, i now know as rex.
"A-a-a-aare you sure?" -Flynn (one of my right hand men, quite quirky, and a tad shy, he's stood by my side for years now.)
"of course he's sure. He knows we must. when we fight with our minds and words, we are condemned to death, while not a soul who heard us speak takes any of it to heart, for everyman we have that gets struck down, we only gain one to replace them. the media hides our doings, they cannot ignore us when the streets run rampant with the blood of the corrupt." Rex, the brutish man spoke sternly with no remorse, only to gasp in air almost immediately after his short speech (I've no idea how long Rex has been with us, but the other day he spoke words that needed saying, of a change we must go through … hopefully for the better)
pressing a hand on each of their shoulders, glancing my head towards Flynn to address him first, peering into his eyes full of worry "yes Flynn, I'm sure, we can't go on like this, for years we have, our numbers are dwindling, we need attention" after a slight pause turning to rex, i pat his shoulder. "The streets will NOT run red with blood, we are NOT murders, we will only kill the blatantly corrupt, and unjust … the common man will be changed, we mustn't lose focus … each man must willingly care for those he will never see, or hear, he must be willing to sacrifice small bits of time in the grand scheme of things, or money, to help better his common man, those who stand idle, are no better than those don't care, or are too blind to notice."
after a large pause, both Flynn, and Rex still staring at me, my hands on their shoulders, glancing back over to Rex, i manage after building enough courage to break myself to utter the words "So … Rex … do you know where we can get weapons?" i see Flynn's head slump to a dejected pose, while Rex's face transforms into a large glistening grin, followed by a slight nod. ***
i fear we will be extremists, but our cause is just …. but what "just" cause is willing to kill, i can't keep my mind from wandering around asking myself these kinds of questions, as i circle around one of our largest gatherings in awhile, hundreds eyeing their newly gotten weapons, some questioning my motives, and morales, others brandishing their new weapons. I dare not ask Rex where he acquired such items.
"We are driven to violence … But we can't let violence drive us, the unjust and corrupt will fear us, for those are whom we will strike down, the common man no matter their offense can, and will be changed. we cannot condemn them to die as our brothers have, simply because they are blind." the back of my mind gnawing at me, out of fear of the pandora's box of horrors i have foolishly delved into. "I shall give a speech in the square, just as our brothers have, but as I am to be stricken down, we will strike back, those who would follow the corrupt and strike down one who simply speaks their mind, are just as corrupt, they cannot hide chaos, and bodies in the street, for long if ever." as i speak to my people, those who question me heckle throughout my speech "you speak the words but you are corrupt yourself" ; "have you lost your mind, you're becoming what we seek to eradicate" I see droves of people funneling out of the building, dropping the weapons as they leave, my one decision has cost us more than half of our people, Flynn surprisingly not among them, still stands with me, i sense the dismay and hesitation within him. I want to end his worries, but it is good he worries, i worry of what I am becoming myself. I hope this decision was worth it, I've thrown away nearly half of us, just to set this up, let alone the execution, i can't help to wonder if people will open their eyes, no longer sit idle, and join us after we do this.
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