The dawn of Mid-July in the year two thousand and eleven would mark the days when the voices of those solitary protestors, who trod the empty streets, day ad night, screaming for people to heed the call for justice and restore human rights they have long forsaken, would finally echo an overlap in an overpowering, universal bellow that tore the fabric of status, power and class within this country, uniting the people to fight for one cause in their beloved ones’ stead.
However, as a result of this, we were all caught in the crossfire between our government and the people. As the revolution sank its claws deeper into the country’s kernel, the entire council’s peace was disrupted and most of its members fled in fear of persecution for their past endeavors against this country’s benefit. Nevertheless, my father did not run away: he remained true to own cause and responsibilities, even attempting to negotiate with the insurgence, but all to no avail, and he was forced to relinquish his position in the council, along with a large sum of his property, which to him, was the pride of what he accomplished and his means for protecting his loved ones. Even in those times of turmoil, I felt proud of my father who fought relentlessly for his beliefs until the very end….
On the other hand, my life was plunged into total chaos because of this change; my classmates in school suddenly turned against me: calling me a “leech” who had been living off the hard earned money that their forefathers entrusted to them. Not only that, but I was also publicly mocked by my most trusted friends who bailed all of my secret weaknesses to other boys who would stop at nothing to use them against me, making me suffer more. It was utterly frightening! Spending the bulk of my days in that all-out hell where every single person flagged himself as my enemy: whether it was the friends that bullied and battered me; whether it was the teachers who completely neglected my existence; or even the juniors who eyed me with disgust and disappointment. I had effectively become a shut-out: shunned by the very ties that I spent my whole life forging with the people around me. To this day, I wonder, what crime must I have committed to deserve such treatment? Check their and consult their hearts, why wouldn’t they? Clearly, I was blameless. Clearly, I was wronged. Clearly, I did nothing to deserve such detestation and took no part in such conspiracies as might do harm to this country. Yet why wouldn’t anybody come to my aid; why wouldn’t my rights be heeded; and why was I betrayed by those closest to my heart? Was it a sin to be born; and were the bonds to which this single most life was connected so frail, that the slightest shake would quiver them into shattering? Questions on top of which questions bewildered , piling up inside me, until the thought of existence became unbearable; never to find the voice to be communicated and forever suppressed by encompassing tides of fear and vulnerability.
From then on, my life underwent a dramatic change from the twists and turns of our unfortunate circumstances. I decided I would never open my heart again to any creature alive. I decided that this heart would nevermore tighten or bleed for the sake of another human being. And it was decided, by hands unknown to me, that only the burden of responsibility and the tragedy of loss would resurrect this heart from its casket and so allow it to throb once for its fellow creatures.
by
2037 (student)
