Tell A Tale in 500 Words
Freedom By Rachel Lovat
Money was everything, the hidden ruler. The rich profit through the trials of the underclass. James is proof of that, at only fifteen. He’d been locked away, in a cell so far underground that not even a single iota of sunlight reached him. Two monotonous years had passed, since the start of his imprisonment.
He had been accused of murdering the crown prince, even though he had no history of violence. No-one had believed him, when he protested his innocence.
As soon as he’d been accused, he’d known what the inevitable judgment would be. The world was always going to be unfair, for someone born into an unsubstantial last name like his. That’s something he’d accepted a long time ago. All of his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.
His eyes searched the same dull grey walls, which had made up his claustrophobic world for his time here. His captors had considered life imprisonment, a more fitting punishment that death. He had to agree with them, after the first year he could already feel himself losing his senses.
That day just as he was about to drift off to sleep. There was sudden a crash outside of his cell, followed by a yell. His whole body tensed, but another part of him thrilled; this was new, this was exciting.
Before too long his door swung open, and an imposing figure stood blocking the frame. This was the moment, his small world started to transform.
“Ah, if it isn’t the accidental rebel.” It took a stunned moment for him to realise he was being addressed.
“I’m… no rebel, sir. It was a misunderstanding.”
He seemed to consider this for a moment, “All that really matters is that the public think that you are,” he smiled grimly, “so welcome to the cause.” With that he was yanked to his feet and out of his cell.
His eyes widened when his eyes fell on the dead body of a guard, robed in traditional red, now stained a much deeper shade of crimson. “W-what…”
“It’s a long way to the surface yet. So get your wits about you.”
“But y-you’re killing people! That’s not right!”
The man let out a long suffering sigh, “Look kid. I’ll be blunt, there’s no such thing as a bloodless revolution.” He was dragged along by this killer, past countless bodies.
His mouth hung open in shock when they reached the entrance, even the dim moonlight took his breath away. To him there couldn’t be a more beautiful sight.
Then the man stood in front of him, obscuring his view, “If those guards had their way, you’d still be down in that cell. Rotting away. So tell me now kid, do you see now, why it was necessary?” He met Jared’s gaze challengingly.
He found a new resolve in his heart, “Yes, I understand. It’s the only way to make a real difference in this corrupt world... I want to continue to make a difference.”
“Trust me, you will.”
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