The Spirit Of Revolution

TW: Mentions of death, death penalty, protests, crowds, murder, torture, depression.

"For treason against the United States of America, you are being held to the death penalty."

I stand there, just as I did in the crowd that day- almost touching noses with that police officer.

I smile ruefully. "My death will only be another name on your long list wrongdoings. My name will be another cry for freedom. You gain nothing from killing me, only hatred from The People." I bow my head, and when it rises once more, my eyes glint, for they have seen death, made friends with the Grim Reaper.

"My soul is an old one, just passing through this temporary vessel. I promise you, for years to come, it will haunt you. It will be invoked in the cries of the children, for the dreams of theirs you crushed, their parents whom you killed, and their freedom, which you've revoked. You will see my soul in the eyes of every angry student, writing paper after paper, email after email, begging- demanding- someone to fix the injustices they were born into."

"And finally," I say, and the fear of death, whatever little was left, escapes me. "You will see my soul reignited among the crowds and masses, fighting for change, just as I did that did that day, and have done before, and have done everyday since. I am the spirit of anger, injustice, and hatred. I fuel the flames of revolution, and you will not stop me."

When I end, the crowd is stunned.

And then I see it. Two, then five, then ten more. Fist upon fist, raised in the air, the seeds of revolution planted among the masses.

And when the first fist drops- perhaps it's mine- the rest drop too, however, their actions are paired with a battle cry.