Forgotten Melodies

Chapter 2

                                                            ~Chapter 2~

      I walked up the dimly lit cobblestone path behind my mother. The first rays of the rising sun rose above the horizon. The sky was painted beautiful orange and pink colors, perfect for the festival.

       My seafoam green dress billowed in the wind, its chiffon fabric light as the air around it. I truly felt beautiful in the outfit. My mother had done up my hair in a braided bun, and had embedded pearls into my up-do. My apple green eyes stood out in contrast to the dark eyeliner around them. I did look perfect for the festival.

       As we arrived at our destination, the first thing I noticed were the red and yellow banners hanging from the buildings. The second thing I noticed were the buildings themselves. They were built of pure marble, and tightly packed together, so it seemed as if they were connected. It appeared as if there were no accessible alleys between the buildings. They were all white, so looking at them blinded you for a few moments, even in this lighting. The doors were dark mahogany. This city, the capitol of my country, Anarch, was very different from my suburban surroundings.

       As I peered harder at the banners, I noticed they said Festival and We Celebrate the Greatest Day for the 100th Year! I noticed the red wasn't as bright as I had pictured, and the yellow wasn't as vivid as I had originally thought it had been. My mind whirled to figure out why they would make the banners in such dull colors. The festival is supposed to be a celebration! I thought.

        Time passed, and more people arrived. The crowds began to thicken, until I could no longer move. The streets were packed with citizens anxious to get the party started. The moment the sun reached its highest point, our president walked out onto the balcony of one of the buildings.

       He was wearing a dark navy suit. It was accompanied by a white undershirt and a red, satiny tie. His pale skin and lean frame made him look sickly. His dark brown hair waved in front of his eyes, and was streaked with white. His deep amber eyes gazed over the crowd that had gathered. I realized they looked cold, as if he didn't appreciate the people had taken time out of their day to hear him speak. Not that they had a choice or anything.

       "Greetings, fellow Anarchians," he greeted, flashing a frosty white smile. "As you know, I am President Cavlery. I am pleased you have come to celebrate this very special festival with me. The time has come to share the story of the rise of Anarch!"

       The crowd cheered. I didn't. The setting didn't seem perfect for the festival. It seemed like there should be something more. It seemed like something was missing.

       President Cavlery raised his hands for everyone to quiet down before he continued, "105 years ago, a secret organization known as the Anarchists started a rebellion against the government. In that time, the people were free. They had rights. One of those rights was music. The Anarchists seeked to demolish it, along with all the other rights the citizens had."

       I stared at the President skeptically. Is that what he wants? Is that what this country wants? I asked in my head. I had never thought about freedoms before. I had always assumed society had always been this way. That society had always obeyed what the government told them, no matter what the issue. Now that I was learning that people had rights 105 years ago, this whole idea seemed wrong. If that was what we were here to celebrate, I didn't want to celebrate at all.

       "War raged for three years until the Anarchists finally won - and they deserved it. At first the people were dismayed, but after one year they learned to respect our ways. In the second year of the Anarchists' reign, they made the law that music shall be obliterated - and it was. Musical instruments were destroyed. Over time, people lost the ability to sing. That is why we are here today to celebrate the day music was abolished!" Our leader concluded. The citizens cheered yet again, and yet again I did not.

     One thing I knew for certain was that this was no reason to celebrate. I was never going to support this festival again.