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Before the trials and the Marked. Agrecians needed a foundation. They became the “saviors” of the world. The heralds of the respect, of honesty, of chivalry, of everything our human flaws yearned to see in our empty hearts. Then, being a murderer could get you Marked. And we agreed. Then, stealing could get you Marked. Again we cheered. Finally a government, finally a leader who helped us and understood us. Justice was right again.
Then speaking out got you Marked. And people argued against others on the fairness of that rule. They protect us. Was a common throwaway line. How dare you argue? Do you know better?
Then speaking your own mind, your own thoughts, everything that made us human became legal grounds to get us Marked.
See, even writing this could get me Marked. This is the story of the people and if I am killed it won’t stop this story from being told. I have hidden 18 copies of this story, verbatim, around the globe. Hidden in places of comfort, in places of strife, and even within their own facilities. Once I die, I have another who is willing to make more copies, continue the story.
I only have one regret. And it is of a personal nature.
If you read this, dad, I’ll be dead. Don’t cry. I died for what I believed in. My last wish is that you don’t find the angel of death whilst among the sin you continue to commit.
