Prologue
"It will not be given freely."
- Martin Luther King
The revolution would not be televised.
Couldn't.
Justice never rang too loudly in the beginning. It broadcast itself through whispers. Stories of it traveled into the rooms of fearful inhabitants. Lies dancing in the streets with its victims. Everything jumbled together until it exploded. The impact destroying everything in its wake.
Nothing Left.
The illusions came to stay. They offered comfort. Silence in exchange for peace. The disruptions had not saved the rebels before. Nobody found solace in hoping again. Justice came at a cost. The enforcers always came to collect.
They Took Everything.
The reaping invaded their minds. Hostility took to the streets. Desperate times came. Cruel measures followed. Screams signaled the danger. We looked the other way. Fighting the war within proved harder than the one we had already surrendered.
We Had Already Lost.
It picked us out. Decreed that we were honorable. The sting of its sacrifice would be scrawled into history books for years to come. Nobody would ever pinpoint where it started. The movement collided with the truth. The admittance of guilt was a pill that few cared to swallow. People hated to decree their alliance with the dark.
There Was More We'd Lose.
In the end, nothing more mattered. It always came to this. We bided our time until the collectors came for us. We chose what was left to take. Our birthright reclaimed. The parades plentiful. The outrage all-encompassing. The ultimate price paid.
Author's Note:
I know what I said, but I enjoy writing. So here I am.
Thank you for reading.
Until Next Time,
MissAceThankYou