Short story | Candles in The Darkness 

Sidenote: This is my… *lost count* time of attempting with narrative writing. Comments are welcomed 🙂

***

Ever since I was young, father would tell me to not be afraid. “Nothing can harm you whilst I am with you.” But then they took father away. Then mother said, “Sleep in my arms princess, I will keep you safe.” But then they cut her arms, sent her to a concentration camp and when her services were no longer needed, they disposed of her body with the others. My teacher once taught me that men in uniforms were heroes but my trust in them ceased when they used guns to instil fear and power rather than peace and with that power they trampled over us, used us and laughed at us. But my heart truly shattered when my government that swore to protect me, on television, stood by and did nothing as my brethren and I were sexually degraded, abused, killed, experimented on and stripped of all our rights as humans. It was then that I realised, my government was not fighting for me. I was being run by the government. It was then that I truly died.

       I remember such things like hope back when they first told me that help was on the way. Each day, I would await at my window, hope blossoming in my heart and waited for something, anything from the outside world. Surely they must know of our condition here. Surely the media is spreading our stories. Surely they will come and aid us. But the only aid we got was recognition on social media, likes and reposts and the only news we ever heard were “We are with you”.  Each time the sun sets, my heart shatters and anger, vengeance and hatred boils my blood so much that I thought it would poison me in my sleep. I wondered how they dared claim that they sympathise. How they dared claim they cared. When the truth was, everyone was just glad it was not them.

       Many attempted to escape the country. Many were caught and many more died at sea. Those who survived were either locked in cells, blocked entry, sent back or if they were lucky, given unhospitable slums where they soon died of hunger, lack of clean water or attacked by viruses.  I heard they were holding talks and conferences but whatever they were doing, it was not fast enough. It was never fast enough.

         I do not know how or when it happened but one day, I woke up and realised I was no longer human. No more will the chains of the masses trap me within this well. For I belong in the sky. I am an idea of freedom and hope. I am a candle in my country’s darkest hour. I might only be a flicker of sunshine in this era of deprivation. But, I believe one person is all that my country needs to ignite the flaming laser sword of newton and pave the way to hope and glory. For only hope is stronger than fear.

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