“Well boy,” she sneered, “Any last words?”. “What's all this fighting for? Why do you have to put fear into the life of others? Why can't we have freedom of speech? Why aren't we able to be who we want to be?” I shouted, thinking it was the end.
I slipped away and tried not to be spotted by the Authority when leaving the grounds of the hospital. On my way back, I would take a glance backwards in my sister's direction to see if she had been spotted by anyone yet. Finally, I saw her being taken into the building by some monsters from the Authority. It was arguably the most bittersweet moment of my life.
Treason. An immediate death sentence. I couldn't die. I was only sixteen. Adrenaline kicked in and I ran. I could hear the soldier still shouting. I knew I had to leave for good – and fast. I noticed on the shoulder of my blouse was my tracker. I ripped it off and hurled it at the ground. I heard it break with a satisfying crack. I was running and running and running but to where? I was in Tallaght, The Authority's head quarters. How could I escape? Then, I saw it. The gleam of water sparkling in the sunlight. The Dodder.
After that day, I was a different person. Dorothy died along with my brothers. I took to politics instead. I became a leader. I gained popularity. The horrors of war still fresh in peoples minds attracted them to my zero tolerance for violence policy and soon enough, I found myself sitting in the Square, head of the Authority. People respect and fear me and that's how it shall be once this “revolution” is crushed.