Holding a rose up to her lips, she blew gently. She watched placidly as soft pink petals scattered across the ground. Stretching out her arms with practiced elegance she clutched the rose stem and ignored the red glowing bright against pale skin. Thorns tore into her frosty fingertips and painted her hands crimson. Head held high arms lowered slowly she gives a calm but solemn smile. Noose leaving ringed marks around her slender neck cut tight and uncomfortable. The trapdoor fells and so would she if it wasn't for the fraying old rope. Suspended in air she didn't cry out. She kept her composure and hung somehow still elegant as if she were merely a bird in flight. Her daughter and son sat on dewy grass looking up at her. Horror and anger dawning on ones face with only sorrow on the other.
The little girl grew into a fine young woman, willowy and careful with every move and word she dares to say. The brother resentful of the injustice turned patient determined and loving to those who deserved it. The adults turned spiteful, frightened of that which they don't understand. Shunning those who are different for fear of corruption. They spent so long eliminating the innocence in hope of peace that they didn't realise what they themselves had become.
The two strived for freedom of those who oppress the rest. Searching for some form of solution or a way to make those in charge understand. They never did though because they had power and that was already determined to be the end of them. Everybody wants to be in charge with pure intentions but the majority turn rotten before they can even fulfil the promises of prosperity and joy.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Simple negotiations turn to riots. Sorrow shifts into something bitter and distasteful. Twisted in a way that can never be content. Always wanting more with the desperation of an animal. No longer caring for those around them. The same sour loop spinning on repeat. The biggest flaw yet is the naivety. Those who believe in change and still believe in promises. The ones who play fair with people who do no such thing. Taken advantage of and silenced with empty words. It all starts again with greed and gullibility.
The siblings knew and shared in their own ways the truth. Teaching the young of the past of which would happen again. The struggles they would face and what some might dreadfully become. Snatched from youth and thrown into a dark metaphorical pit. Wishing that somebody would make a correct change turn the circle into a line with a beginning and end of events. Their dear mother had done the same. She had sheltered them all with delicate care. Teaching people to try and understand the mistake they were making and how it simply could not go on.
The once two children stood on splintering wood. Both wearing an awfully familiar placid smile. Caught and caged for their supposedly witch like ways. Making their kids believe their awful ways. Changing and fixing things that weren't broken. Challenging the men and women in status far greater than them. Head held high roses in hand. They gently scatter white and red petals. Delicate silk flutters to the floor as the trapdoor drops and they both take flight.