Writing:
The townspeople followed the leader like an elephant on a string, dancing behind the pied piper as he leads them to their doom. Willingly, happily, like the rats that ran after the man once he played the tune. A promise of a rich life so happily portrayed on the surface of it all, no one ever broke through the surface to watch the mirage ripple. No one wanted to; the music was sweet, and the plunge was cold and lonely.
So, they all danced to the tunes warbling out of the castle gates as the king hosted one of his parties for the third time this week, and it was only Tuesday. Danced on the tables of the marketplace for a short interlude between hard work hours, calling that free time. No one else from any other kingdom made merry so often. It was the glory of the place. The parties held behind closed doors were taken as a gift by the people as they feasted on their food scraps that were not needed for the lavish dinners indoors.
This is not to fault the working class. They made merry with what little time they had and treated mere hard bread like the most exotic feast. It was the problem with the people inside gorging themselves on roast duck that would land in the bucket later that night from drowning their guilt in imported wine. The joy and fulfilment they expressed was admirable. It was a trait many aspired to have, but not many achieved, remaining bitter and full of want for more. A bitterness that could either lead to a change for the better or change for the worse. Peace or conflict.
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Storyline:
The droning voice of James as he passed back and forth before the crowd bored the hell out of most people. Cara did not even register whatever he was saying. She yawned, leaning against her brother, and closed her eyes, ready to sleep. It wasn't even useful information; much more of a monotone inspirational speech. Nothing Cara hadn't heard before, although the speeches were admittedly singing a very different tone. Not at all what the officials told her while she rested behind bars. No matter, it was boring to her all the same.
At first, she had been excited and riled up to go. Robert had spun a dizzyingly confusing tale to their mother, which had even impressed Cara. She had no idea what it had been about and that had made Robert oh so smug. Having the upper hand intellectually on Cara always ticked her off, because she did not have the physical prowess he possessed. The smarter sibling was not all that smart after all.
"Pay attention." Robert chides.
"Oh, I will when he says anything interesting or of value." Cara replies. "I don't need the sort of motivation you're providing right now to attempt on dethroning a king."
"No," Robert agrees, "I actually think you need to be less motivated to do it."
"Well, this is certainly demotivating me." Cara admits, boredom making her voice more monotone than that of James's. "I hate to say it, but I'd rather be bugging you and working on the Beast."
He laughs, softly. "You found something worse than physical labour? What a day, what a day."
"Boredom will one day be the thing that kills me." Cara sighs, and takes to unravelling her shirt. "Too much time for imagination is never a good thing. Not without creating at the same time."
Robert ruffles her hair. "You're an odd one."
"I know."
With a long, insufferable sigh, she snaps the thread she was pulling and hides the tail. At that moment, the hall goes silent. Cara had completely missed the not-so-subtle prompt from James as he spoke.
"And let us give a warm welcome to our newest member, the infamous Cara Lugo." He had said, sweeping his hand out in Cara's general direction. "Cara, would you like to speak?"
YOU ARE READING
Cara Lugo [Complete]
General FictionDefiance. Resilience. Those are the traits that are not appreciated from the lower class. Keep you head down, keep quiet, and do your job. That was all that was expected and wanted from you. But what happens when one very quiet rebellion, and one ve...