Adriel
New Member
You Can Only Choose Your Friends...
Posts: 8
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Post by Adriel on May 2, 2009 23:43:30 GMT -5
I am forever hearing people whisper behind my back about how lucky I am to be the only son of General Hathoway. How I'm going to inherit so much from him when he passes, and how spoiled I must be living in a house with maids. It's all far from the truth. I'm not spoiled. I'm not lucky. Yes, I love my parents, but at the same time I hate them. I hate my father's temper, his rages and the way he's forever telling me to be a 'real man'. I hate the way my mother pretends she's perfect at anything and everything and how she flaunts her status as the General's wife. I even dislike the City, with its stark white walls, and stark white houses. Everything is a pretense of purity, when those walls should be stained blood red by all the senseless killings that happen almost every day. They kill anyone who opposes them, and have no thought for the reasons behind the Rebellion. Every book I've ever read that mentions a rebellion, also mentions that there is a reason for it. People don't just rebel because they're bored. They rebel because they're unhappy, and no one is listening to them. Why don't the leaders open their ears and listen to what the rebels have to say? Would it be such a crime to acutally listen to what the people want to say? Hah. I should probably keep this hidden, I could find myself in deep trouble for writing things like this.
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Adriel
New Member
You Can Only Choose Your Friends...
Posts: 8
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Post by Adriel on May 25, 2009 5:29:25 GMT -5
I'm leaving this place. I can't stand it here any longer. I'll do it tomorrow night. I'll pack my bags tonight, take as little as possible and leave the city on Azra'il and ride out. I'll ride into the horizon and not look back once. No regrets. I'll have to find somewhere to stay, of course. Money will probably be of little use outside these walls, so I'll take things that I can try to use to barter. Although I don't know what they see as worthy. Most things I have are simply cosmetic, shiny things that are only worth as much as the material they were crafted from. I can only hope that my useless trinkets can get me even a few nights sleep in some of the small towns. I'm not scared. I'm looking forward to this. To freedom, to leaving this place behind me and starting a new life outside the stark white prison I used to call my home. I won't miss it.
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