𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓣𝓸 𝓒𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓬𝓱

ᴏɴᴇ

"𝓘𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓾𝓼. 𝓘𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓰𝓷𝓲𝔃𝓮, 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼."
-ᴀᴜᴅʀᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅᴇ

        "Gay rights are human rights! Human rights are Gay rights!" People shout, chant repeatedly. The streets full of thousands of people. People hold up signs. From little pieces of paper to cardboard boxes, to big old poster paper. 

     People dress in drag. People dress in pride colors. From the rainbow to the bisexual colors of pink, blue, and purple. From pink, yellow and blue for pansexual. To red, orange, light orange, white, pink, dusty pink, and dark rose for lesbians. To light blue, light pink and white for the trans community. 

     The very one I have wrapped around my forehead in the form of a bandana. 

    My throat hurts, scratchy even as I shout over and over with my community and even allies. My eyes burn from the tears that threaten my eyes wanting to fall and slip down my cheeks. And while some do manage to slip, I don't let it affect me as I march alongside people I don't even know. My heart races. Thumps rapidly inside my chest. But with each step I take I know it's all worth it. The tears, the fighting, the chants, my most likely bleeding, sore two feet. All of it was worth it. 

     "GO BACK! TURN AROUND NOW!" Cops shout up ahead. We all stop. Our feet stopping us but planted to the concrete ground. None of us were turning back. 

     "GAY RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS!" People shouted. My eyes looked up and down the wall of cops. Shields, guns in hands. I shake my head, looking away from them to the many of police cruisers. The red and blue lights flashing repeatedly. It's blinding. Ambulances stay off to the sides. Several people being loaded in, checked on. News media anchors stand reporting this. It being all over the news now. People were seeing us. Hell, probably calling us crazy fighting for something we are passionate about. But seeing we're tired. Seeing what the government was doing to the American citizens. 

     I drop my head for a moment, squeezing my eyes tightly shut before stepping forward, out of line of the many, many protestors I'm with. 

     I lift my hands up shakily, dropping the sign I held. The chanting stops. The world -feels like- goes silent like in the middle of the night when no one's awake. My eyes slowly open. An unsteady, shaky breath escapes from my quivering lips. 

     "TURN AROUND!" A cop directly in front of me shouts. I say nothing only keeping my hands up, palms open. My heart pounding. It feels like it's about to come out. Part of me wants it to and I have no idea as to why. 

     "Declan, step back," a voice from behind me speaks. I recognize the voice, but I shake my head from side to side, stepping closer to the suited guards. 

     "You've already taken 3 of us! How many more bodies of people's children have to die for you to realize the problem is you people?" I shout using everything within me for everyone to hear me. "Sasha Conners. 15 years old. Strong, intelligent trans girl. Dead." I bite my lip, shaking my head. 

     "Caleb Johnson. 22 years old. Strong, independent, owned his own business. Black gay man. Dead." 

     I swallow the salvia that builds in my throat. I feel like I can't breathe but I continue. 

     "Gabe Samuels. 36 years old. Smart, creative, activist. An ally. Dead! Three people dead because of you! Because of governor Matt Lee!" I scream now, tears slipping down my cheeks. No one moves. No one speaks. Silence lingers. I close my eyes for a moment, remembering the three. I knew Caleb and Sasha on a personal level all because of these protests that started peaceful. Gabe on the other hand...