Battle of Colours

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Martin Luther King's dream turned into a nightmare.

Abraham Lincoln's fight has gone to waste.

Equality became a utopia.

Peace is now a Christmas wish.

Hell opened its gates to spread its hate on Earth.

     It did not matter which country you were living in, it was always the same structure. Humans were separated in two — white people were free in the North, and the rest were crammed in the South. "The rest" meant black, brown, yellow people — anyone who was not white was labelled as "an other" and went against the principle of being a good White Man of Power. However, to have the right to own a house in the North, being white was not enough, you had to give up on your faith in God, on making a family, on having friends, on any life distraction such as love. In short, you had to become a robot.

     Still, some people of Colour could try to live in the North, but they always had to submit to their White masters. And they could only have exhausting jobs such as maids, cook, gardener, driver and so on. Long story short, they were back to segregation and slavery. The only different thing was that most of the people agreed to that modern form of slavery.

     Violet used to love living in the South, it was a melting pot of religions and colours, and all the ingredients were perfectly mixed; Latinos, Spanish, Asians, Blacks, Muslims, Indians, they were all forming just one single community, they were all the same – they were all humans.

     Those living in the South were known to be fighters, seeking for freedom and rights and they were sharing the same thing – their disgust towards White people of Power.

     On the other hand, Southern people that left for the North were betrayers, cowards and dead to their families. Submitting was seen as the easy way, real Southern people would fight and never fear the strong.

     Nonetheless, a lot of them had successfully been brainwashed and left for the North. Violet still remembered that part of her life until now. She was very young – she might have been around seven years-old – when a man on the news said those words "All Southern people who make the wise decision to leave their slums and to join us and to submit to my brothers, will be rewarded and seen as good people. The others will remain outsiders and bad people. The choice is all yours, use it wisely." Despite her young age, she clearly understood the message and looked at her mother, wondering why they did not submit to become good people.

"Sweetheart," she would answer. "This is no news, this is hate. This box says bullshit, it's evil," She would point at the television. "Always saying lies and fooling people. But what comes from here," She would place her palm against Violet's heart, "Is the purest thing in the world."

     Violet was way too young to understand what her mother truly meant; she had to lose her whole family to finally understand the meaning of her mother's sayings. She had to lose her to understand that she was one of the wisest woman on Earth. Therefore, Violet's family remained in the South, refusing to kneel down.

      Violet had one brother. He was five years older than her, but it does not matter because he died. Violet was sixteen years-old when he died during one of the deadliest riot between Forces of the North and poor people of the South. He had been shot three times and then stepped on.

     Regardless of her mother's begging, she was willing to see the dead body of her beloved brother. She slowly stepped forward and stared at her sleeping brother. He was lying in his coffin, wearing his bright white clothes and he seemed so peaceful. He was obviously full of scars and wounds, he had a bunch of broken bones, his lips were ripped, he had some missing teeth, yet he was still beautiful. She smiled at him. She smiled because as crazy as it seemed, he was already smiling at her.

    Before going to sleep, her brother used to tell her stories about revolution and religion; and right before his last riot, he kissed her forehead and said "We are all born with a purpose, Violet. God is wise, coincidences and randomness do not exist. Have faith and hope and never give up." She grabbed his arms and asked him why he had to leave them. "It's my purpose, Violet. This is what I am meant to be." And it was as if he knew that he was going to die, and it was as if she knew that it was their final farewell.

     After the assassination of her mother, Violet took the wise decision to join the White Panteras. It has been forgotten for years and years, and when she finally found them, they were only four. She had no house, no money, nothing — yet they welcomed her like a member of a family. They trained her and made her a tiny soldier.

     It had then been a few months that Violet was an official member of the White Panteras. She has got into a few riots, broke one or two limbs and got herself some pretty bad scars. Still, each riot felt like a rebirth to her.

     Even though the White Panteras group was more or less avoiding riots and fights with weapons — they, once or twice, would send one of their members to fight in public, just to blur the lines. Since almost each Southern was born to be a fighter, if an amount of young and healthy people were never to be seen in a fight or just full of scars, they would immediately be considered suspicious.

    Such a thing had already happened to a huge community a few years ago. They were forty, acting in silence. Probably a little too silent because they caught the attention of some Bulldogs.
Bulldog was the nickname that the White Panteras gave to White soldiers. Simply because they looked like bulldogs — bullying, tough to train, not so bright and they were always frowning – bulldogs.

     Therefore, some Bulldogs caught them and shut the group down and then organised a public execution. It was like a party, White men of Power even sent invitations to Southern citizens. Violet's mother did not want her daughter to witness such a massacre, but they did not have a choice. In each Southern house were two to three Bulldogs; forcing parents and children to look at the television, threatening them with their weapons. It was the first time Violet had a gun pressed against the back of her head.

     The assassination quickly became a huge symbol. The message was simple — White men of Power always achieved their goals, they were in possession of the money – the root of evil, and so, the Power. No Southern citizen – not even forty of them – could stop them, and if anyone would think the opposite, they would end up tied to a wooden pole, a potato bag on their head, with twenty armed Bulldogs in front of them, with their weapons loaded.

     Later on, she took the decision to join the White Panteras. She was eighteen then — just like her brother. She found her new family among the members of the White Penteras.

     Violet and her friends were living in a small abandoned farm — it was not a lot, but it was enough. Everything was going pretty well until another riot exploded and the White Panteras had to redouble their efforts and change their plans.

     Her and her friend are given one of the biggest mission, infiltrate the house of Chris Fox, one of the wealthiest and not-to-mess with man.

     Little did she know her whole world was about to change. 

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(the prologue is coming either tomorrow or in two days!)

-creatingdoubt