22/09/2021
The man on the floor felt his heart race as he stared into the barrel of the gun pointed at his face. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes as it mingled with his tears. He knew this day may come, but never believed it would come this soon.
The youth who held the gun was breathing deep, restrained breaths. Everything about their stance was calm, save for their eyes. Behind those eyes was the fire of the revolution, burning brighter than the sun ever could.
The two of them stared at each other, neither moving for what felt like an age. Then, the younger man threw the gun on the floor. Their shoulders went slack at his sides. The fire behind the eyes dimmed.
“Do we really have to end it like this?” they asked, crossing the room to sit in a large chair that sat against one of the walls. “Aren’t you tired of all this?”
The man stared at the gun on the ground. Why would he throw away this chance?
“You’ve killed so many of us,” the youth said.
“You think yourselves the victims?” the man shouted, slowly rising to his feet. “You have taken everything from me! My people! My family! Everything!”
The youth shook their head. “We did not take anything that belonged to you. You treated us like cattle for too long. You don’t want to play your games anymore.”
“Games? Is that what all of this is to you? You believe that running this nation is easy?”
“It can’t be easy, no, but I bet it was so much easier when you just looked out for yourself.”
The man could feel his fear being replaced with anger. “Myself? I put everything I had into this nation!”
“How?”
“I keep the peace. I protect my people. I have decisions to make that most people would crumble under the pressure of. I am in charge of making sure that all of us wake up tomorrow feeling safe.”
The youth laughed. “Political jargon. What exactly have you done?”
“I told you. I keep the peace.”
The youth looked out a nearby window. Below this room was a ground littered with blood and bullet casings. They watched so many friends died on their way to this spot, and they were not going to let their sacrifices be in vain.
If this revolution was going to end today, they’d rather it end in words rather than with violence.
“Is this what keeping the peace looks like to you?”
“I do not protect those that would do my people harm.”
“I thought we were your people.”
“Yes, you were my people. Then you spat in my face.”
“People are starving because of you! We were never your people. Your people were those that could afford to live in this world you created.”
“Oh, please. It is not my fault if people would rather squander their money on instant gratification. How many of your ‘revolutionaries’ are addicted to their phones or to the internet or whatever else? And you complain to me when you have no money for food?”
“Is that what we are to you? Just a bunch of wasteful children?”
“It’s what you are.”
“How many of your friends own seven houses? How many have personal chefs and chauffeurs?”
“There is nothing wrong with being comfortable when you have earned it.”
“And we haven’t?”
“No, you haven’t. That is why there were so many of you that aren’t comfortable. You haven’t earned the right to be. And now, because of the war you started, this nation is in shambles. Do you have any idea how expensive it is going to be to fix the infrastructure you have destroyed?”
“I do know because in the world you created, those under your reign would pay for it while you make a big show of auctioning off one of your houses to those powerful friends of yours. Do you have any idea how many of us even have houses now?”
“I imagine most of you just live in your parents’ basements.”
“Not by choice.”
“Is that what this is all about? Do you all want more money? That is the most baseless reason for a revolution I have ever heard of.”
The man kept inching closer to the gun the youth had thrown to the floor. It was almost within his reach now. He just had to keep the youth talking.
“It’s not about the money,” the youth said. “It’s about the people feeling that your government is not safe for them. We tried petitions. We tried protests. We’ve even tried riots. Nothing had gained your attention, so we decided to take it with the only option we had left.”
“How could they not feel safe?”
“Why don’t you ask your so-called Peacekeepers? Or whatever is left of them.”
“They exist to uphold the law of the nation.”
“Then why are so many people terrified of them? Sure, some of them may have wanted to protect people, but too many of them like the feeling of power that came with that badge. They felt it gave them immunity to persecute anyone they choose.”
“If people are innocent, they should have nothing to fear.”
“Then why are so many people scared of them?”
“Because they are not innocent.”
“Or they do not feel safe.”
“That is their choice to not believe that my system is protecting them.”
“Your system is broken! It doesn’t protect anyone! Except maybe you!”
“What would you do differently?”
“I would protect those that actually need help.”
“And how would you go about doing that?”
“Siphoning money from your wealthy friends sounds like a good start.”
“So you have no problem with taking money from the people for your own problems?”
The youth looked at the man with their mouth open to respond, but their eyes grew wide when they saw the gun in the man’s hand.
Now it was the man’s turn to laugh. “Well, this has been quite the conversation, but I am afraid I am going to have to remove you from my home now.”
The youth dropped their head. “If this is how you want things to end, then so be it. But the people will remember me.”
“History will never remember you, kid. However, I promise to always remember this day. I will look back at this day and laugh.”
The man pulled the trigger, but the gun only clicked at the gun dryfired. The man pulled the trigger again and again, but the gun continued to only click.
“You arrived with no ammo?”
The youth smiled. “I ran out during the firefight.”
“And you still came here with the intent to kill me?”
The youth shook their head. “No, I just came here to stall.”
The door to the room burst open again. Storming into the room came several of the revolutionaries that had been fighting outside merely moments before. They pointed an assortment of weapons at the man.
The man turned in a circle, still firing the empty gun at these invaders. He was not willing to admit defeat. Not now.
The youth stood up from their chair. “The war is over.”
“You can’t do this to me! I am in charge! You belong to me!”
“We don’t belong to anyone. Not anymore.”
