And in my opinion, it's pretty good. Well, sorta-I'm a bit self conscience about my writing. I kinda used what I learned as a long time student of history. I may have subconsciously taken some stuff from other stories I've read. May not be that original, but, since I feel like I got my groove back, I want to share it! Give me your thoughts. I'm a big girl, I can handle constructive criticism. Formatting is a bitch, so this is the best I could do in terms of making it readable.
Click. Pop. Fade to black.
Enter stage left, head held high, a regal face with a hardened look. Her face was classically built, pale and almost transparent. A marble statue come to life.
The woman was garbed in an austere black turtleneck, black pants, and black heels. On the wooden stage, the shoes made a “clack” sound, which resonated in the silence. The crowd did not speak. Not out of fear, but silent with awe. This was the woman who brought down a tyrant. She approached the podium; head held high, eyes focused on the crowd. The coldness in her eyes remained, even though she was now smiling.
“Today is the beginning of a new era. Today is the day that you-all of you-will start a life of freedom!"
" I am proud to say every man and woman will now be able to express themselves without fear of incarceration. The dreaded knock on the door, at the stroke of midnight, will no longer haunt your dreams. Your children will grow and thrive. No more will we tolerate violence in the place of law. No longer will we be rounded up like sheep, on the whim of a madman and his cronies."
“As you may know, I came from humble roots. The daughter of a field hand and a factory worker. At a young age I was taken in the night, without a choice. I found myself in the inner circle of the elite, a dream for most entrenched in poverty. However, I became disgusted with their ignorance of their own people. The lives the poor lead, not knowing if there would be enough food on the table, or warm clothes in the winter."
“Power entices and corrupts. It weaves the web of a black widow. Poisonous and beautiful at the same time. Yet they were blind. We took the power; we became the ones with the red hourglass mark. Their final breaths became our first ones”.
She paused and looked out at the mass of supporters. They cheered at the metaphor, as she knew they would. Her lips curled, in an attempt at a warm smile. To the crowd, she appeared pleased. She practiced it in the mirror. No matter how hard she tried, it looked malicious. Oh well, no one will see it anyways.
“They never saw it coming. When we rose up, they could not fathom what was occurring-underestimating our strength. They became complacent, we were always alert."
"As of this day, I will be listening to you. I vow to give a better life to all of us. We will no longer be abused! We will no longer be subject to their whims! Their ignorance was their downfall, and our triumph!”
The screams were deafening. She didn’t even hear them. She was already planning her next move. The coup was a success. She had dealt the final blow herself. She had watched the palace and buildings burn. The screams did not pull at her heartstrings. They made her laugh. And she had absolutely no intention of giving up the jewels or clothes she had collected during her imprisonment in the golden cage. She earned them the hard way. And she deserved them.
As the crowd cheered, she gave a wave. These suckers, she thought. They have no clue. Nothing ever changes. And they will never have as much control as I do. Lies are easy too tell, if you make them pleasing to hear. Hope? An illusion. Perhaps, she thought, she was too cynical. But it was just a passing notion. The new era would be one of her own wishes. And the people would follow the rules of their ‘champion’.
Wearing the false smile, she gazed out to the people-her new toys-and began to open her mouth again.
The cheers ceased. There was a thud. The cold eyes opened in fear. The pain was warm, but sharp. Her ‘trusted advisors’ ran over, holding her hand. Trying to stop the bleeding. Shouting for a doctor.
For three days, she was the exalted leader. The beacon of hope. The revolution incarnate.
As everything began to fade, as the night sky lost its stars, she uttered her last words, into the ear of her must trusted 'General'.
“Get the assassin. Execute the dissidents. Show no mercy. And, for me, never let go of the power. These people are idiots. Don’t give in to compassion”.
And that was the end of the revolution. She was a saint in the eyes of the people. Her trusted friends were publicly virtuous. All was peaceful.
So what do y'all think? I don't have a title yet, and probably has hella spelling mistakes and stuff. And if anything is implied, it probably means something I didn't really want to put in-I like to leave things up to the reader. I don't know if I want to publish (I'm not really completely secure with it, because it's the first piece of fiction I've written), so I'll leave it in the hands of my trusted GT'rs.
Edit: I may not have time to reply, because of an essay. Dang!