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It’s been a week since I joined the uprising. You know how I feel; we can’t go on living like this. Something has to be done; we the people of this great nation have to stand up against this tyranny and oppression. Do not worry about me though. For this will benefit my children and my children’s children. And, if I do fall, remember this: “When I’m gone just carry on don’t mourn, rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice, and just know that I’m looking down at you smiling. I didn’t feel a thing so baby don’t feel no pain just smile back.” Give my love to everyone.
Simon gulped, trying to shift the lump that had formed in his throat while he wrote the letter. For he knew that this would most likely be the last correspondence he would have with his family. He folded the letter in half and slipped it into the envelope. He didn’t stick it down. Why, he did not know. But instead he just tucked it in his jacket pocket. He got up and surveyed the dimly lit room. It was small, dark and very dusty. Only two things lined the walls, a bed and a wooden shelf, on the shelf stood the old oil lamp that was providing he light to the room. There were no windows in this room which Simon now called “his” It was a grim place to live for any amount of time, let alone a week. Slowly he walked out of the room onto the landing down the creaky apartment staircase and out the front door. Every time he walked out here, it still shocked him. London looked like a war zone, completely unrecognisable from the once beautifully white building and magnificently structured city. In the distance he saw Canary Wharf which was still ablaze from earlier that day. Simon looked down at his watch, it was ten O’clock. It didn’t seem it, since the all fires illuminated the city even at this time. He looked down at his reflection in the puddle in front of him. He was tall, and big, with short dark hair. His face was grubby and had bags under his bright blue eyes. He looked like the kind of person you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.
“Simon!” Simon turned round, wondering who had shouted his name is the dark. Slowly a small muscular man materialized from down the street.
“Ahh Chris, I wondered who that was. You scared me a little there”
“Hah! Don’t be such’a girl, and man up” said Chris chuckling slightly to himself.
Simon replied rather annoyed “Well it’s easy for you to say”
“Enough of this chit chat you two” Both Simon and Chris span round on the spot. This time it was Chris’ turn to be scared. “Sorry lads, did I scare you? HAH! Anyway, there’s a meeting in the hall. Starts in ten minutes, if I were you I’d hurry up the general seems in a bad mood.”
“Cheers Tom” Replied Simon, “C’mon Chris lets go”
They made their way to the hall leaving Tom alone in the darkness. Five minutes later they found themselves in the hall with the rest of “The Resistance”
“What cha think this is about?” Asked Chris when they took their seats.
“How the h*ll do you think I’m supposed to know?” Replied Simon
“Alright, alright calm down. T’was only asking”
“Sorry” Said Simon rather sheepishly. “I expect it’s just another one of them things to keep everyone’s sprits up. Ya’know?” Before Chris had a chance to reply General Riddle walked on to the stage, and a hush fell amongst the crowd. Riddle was an angry looking man, with short hair. He would’ve been quite handsome had it not been for the many scars across his face and other parts of his body. He did not seem to mind though; he wore them as kind off medal which the people that served under him could relate to
“Welcome everyone and thanks for coming on such short notice. Although I would expect nothing less from any of you” Said Riddle, speaking into the microphone and smiling. “I assume you’re wondering why you are here. The answer to this is quite simple. We are going to end this once and for all. Men are dying for the good of his Country, and it can’t go on. We have tried to negotiate with the government and there men but they will not listen. Of course, all of our wishes are that we could settle this peacefully. Unfortunately this does not look possible. So tomorrow we fight. For each other, for our families and for the good of the country, remember this. They will not force us, and they will stop degrading us, and they will not control us, we will be victories.” And with that General Riddle walked off the stage to tumultuous applause. Simon sat there and admired Riddle for a second. He had to hand it to him; he knew how to inspire people. The applause continued for a good five minutes, during which time the crowd sang Riddles final words over and over again. Suddenly Simon was being handed a pint of beer from an unknown hand. He didn’t know nor care who had given him the beer. He drank and drained the pint in one. After he wiped his froth of his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he saw Tom slowly slip into the hall. Simon thought it was a bit odd at first, but was eventually enjoying himself with the rest of the crowd.
What seemed like an age later, Simon was walking back to his apartment with Chris staggering behind him. Simon had tried to tell Chris about what he saw with Tom, but Chris thought he was someone called Danny and kept saying that he looked like his mother. Eventually he gave up and just went along with whatever Chris said to him. He dropped Chris off at his apartment and made his way to his one. It was chilly and had to be at least 2 O’clock in the morning. He put his hands in his pockets and stopped instantly. He withdrew his right hand from his pocket holding the letter to his family. He stared at it; he still hadn’t stuck it down. He thought for a moment, put the letter back and carried on walking. A couple of minutes later he stopped again. In front of him stood a red spherical object, coming up to his shoulders, once again he withdrew his right hand with the letter in it. This time however, he stuck it down and slowly slipped the letter into the letterbox. Tears burned his eyes as he walked to his apartment, he didn’t say hi to anyone or acknowledge that anyone was there. He strode very purposefully up the stairs and into his room, where he collapsed on his bed and fell asleep instantly. His dreams were filled with letterboxes, letters, drink and Tom slivering into the hall.
Simon awoke with a start. He looked with blurry eyes at his watch, twenty past three. Simon sighed and fell back onto his pillow again. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep again. He never could after he woke up in the middle of the night.
Ever since he was a baby his parents used to tell him that when he woke up, he never went back to sleep. Knowing this, whenever he woke up in the night Simon took a short walk outside.
It seemed to relax him and help him doze off when he got back. Tonight was no different. He got up out on his coat and quietly - as so not to wake the other people in the apartment building – crept down the stairs and out the front door. He took a left and began walking, not really paying much attention to wear he was going. Since he had joined up with the resistance he had awoken so many times that he knew the route he was taking off by heart. Something flattered in the wind in front of him. For half a second Simon didn’t have a clue what it was, then he realised it was just an old newspaper. More than likely it would be the newspaper of the 23rd August 2012. Simon caught the paper and it did not disappoint. It was indeed dated the 23rd August. How he knew this was quite simple. Ever since the resistance started, the government had made it illegal to print newspapers. So that was the last newspaper printed:
THE UPRISING BEGINS
23rd August 2012
Millions of people took to the streets today, in an apparent uprising against the current government. Over 200,000 people took to the streets on London alone. With many other major cities being swamped by protesters...
Simon knew the front page off by heart and discarded the newspaper. As he threw it, he noticed someone in the distance looking at him. He couldn’t make out what they looked like and drew nearer, as he did so, they moved further back. Simon walked faster towards the mysterious person, and as he did so, the person walked further away. Eventually Simon broke out into a run and started to give chase to the person. The hooded person clearly didn’t want to be seen. But Simon wasn’t going to give up. The hooded person turned into a side street and Simon lost him. He has vanished into the shadows like a cat. Simon walked quickly back to his apartment, and 15 minutes later he was sitting on his bed pondering what he had just seen. It didn’t really make much sense. He sat there all night right up until eight O’clock the next morning, and still wasn’t any closer to understanding what had happened. He told Chris at breakfast the same morning, but hadn’t received much help, since he was still recovering from last night. No time to ponder on that know Simon thought to himself, we have a job to do.
Two hours later he and fifteen thousand others wear all ready. General Riddle was standing on a plinth in front of them.
“Today is the day, my friends. Today we rise. And put to bed his pointless confrontation. Humans are no strangers to war, in the past we have fought for our religion. In the future we may fight for our survival. But today, we fight for our freedom. We only have one choice. We must attack. Now go out and fight for our freedom!” A big roar from the crowd met his final word. Everyone joined in; it sent goose bumps up Simon’s arms and the back of neck
And with that they marched to parliament every man preparing is his way as they walked. It wasn’t long before they were there. And what they saw shocked them...