Women And the Demons Who Love Them

The Pride-2

Shouting At Planes- Surrender

    "I remember the first I was up here," I stated, looking over the crowd. Like then, all eyes are on me with no intention of them looking away. "I was thirteen at the time and I didn't walk up here willingly. In fact, I was handcuffed," Some of them laughed. "It was on this stage that I learned how divided we all are.

    "My adoptive parents at the time couldn't afford to buy the latest dress for their daughter or myself. So, the older girls thought it was okay to make fun of her for that. She wasn't at all like me. She was shy and impressionable. Two things I have never been. 

    "As the older sister I thought myself to be, I stepped in and the official report stated I assaulted the three girls. I was arrested and taken into an empty classroom where I spent the night. 

    "The next morning I was brought up here where headmistress Lindmore told me something that has stayed with me for a very long time and will probably stay with me for the rest of my life. She stepped behind me and whispered in my ear. Leon, I am not punishing you because what you did was wrong. I am punishing you because you did the right thing at the wrong time. Then she asked me if I understood and I said yes.

    "Headmistress Lindmore then proceeded with my punishment. Under the age of sixteen, the punishment for assault is eight lashes to the rear and public humiliation. Once she was finished, those who I considered my family told me I wasn't welcomed in their home anymore. They packed my things and the woman I now consider my mother drove up and took me home with her. Headmistress Lindmore became my mom. 

    "Like then, I still don't understand why I was punished for doing the right thing at the wrong time. How can there be a time to do the right thing? Doing the right thing should just be as simple as doing the right thing. 

    "When an officer is called to domestic violence the objective to get the victim out of harm's way as soon as possible. When a building is on fire, the objective is to save anyone inside and put the fire out as soon as possible. There is no pausing to think about what the right thing is. Why should there be a pause when we see someone we care about being hurt or humiliated?

    "There is no such thing as the wrong time to do the right thing. I refuse to believe that, especially in the era we live in. We are all that is left of Humanity and we should be looking after one another. We shouldn't be looking at one another by what we're wearing or how much our parents have. Today we are standing here dressed in what we are and tomorrow guess what? 

    "Those outside our tribe will care-less when they come in with their weaponized shifter vaccine. You will be shot on sight and maybe, just maybe the girl or the boy you were just making fun of because they're wearing last season's Nike's will reach out and move you before you're triggered. We are human not accessories," 

    They cheered. They always cheer. The more I repeat it the louder they get. We are human not accessories. They get really happy for a moment because someone is finally telling them what to do. Someone is guiding their way of thinking. Manipulating what they believe to be right from wrong. 

    A speech is really all it takes. If I were to tell them to turn on one another. They would. If I were to put weapons in their hands and tell them to fight. They would. 

    We are human not accessories. Ha. It's laughable. Freedom is irrelevant now. We do what we are told in order to survive. So as long we keep our people in line and our heads down. So as long as we let them believe they are free we all get to eat. They call it throwing them a bone. That's what we get. The scraps of what they leave behind. 

    "Leon, we have to go," mother said coming up behind me. 

    Questions are shot at me, left and right. Posters of me decorate the massive walls trapping us in the gilded cage they've built for us. A revolutionary symbol. The face of the future of humanity and all of it is bullshit. There is no revolution. There is no freedom. The speech was written by a fifty-five-year-old woman that turns into a wolf. A woman trapped with the face of a twenty-six-year-old girl who was shot down in the middle of her street while she tried to keep her humanity. 

    The story of fourteen-year-old Leon is true to the world. I had been whipped up on that stage. I had been cast out by those who had taken me in. The story of an orphan who climbed the social ladder when the woman who had lashed her took pity on her. The media warped that heartfelt story and extorted it making that confused little girl into a martyr. 

    My new story is... I was sixteen when I found out the truth. The council wanted a fighter, someone who could stand in front of the camera and hold the attention of the people, they wanted a good story. No one fit the description. So, they created one. 

    The family that had taken me in was struggling financially. They couldn't afford to feed both me and their biological daughter. The council offered them a large sum of money for me. They took it without hesitation. The girls who bullied the girl who I once considered my little sister did what they did on purpose. They pushed and pushed until I snapped. They used that incident to create the story everyone talks about. 

    My conditions for staying within these walls are what I am now. Tell the story, tell them to get along, tell them we are still fighting, tell them we have a chance, give them that false hope. Smile, pose, shake their hands, sign autographs, and above all make them feel useful. 

    I was placed in a school where I was taught ethics, economics, literature, self-defense, and the art of performing. The better I got at telling a lie the more they pushed me out there. The more they call out my name the more money that comes in. 

    They dress me up. They do my hair. They do my makeup. But the funniest thing is that they believe in the lies they're making me tell. They believe I am making a difference. They think I stand for something. They're full of s**t. Every single one of them.

    "You did well out there today," mother said placing her hand over mine. I looked over at her and nodded. She chuckled shaking her head. "Lots of pretty girls would kill to be where you are, Leon. You know that right?" 

    "Yes," I said looking out of the window. Of course, I know that. They've tried.