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A Matter of Perception

There Is Peace In Simplicity

By Brittany MillerPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
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A Matter of Perception
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

I like to think of myself as a decent person. Despite the cards I have been dealt, with all that has been said and done, I have played this game as well as the best of them. My road might end in this prison, but the path I paved has burned through the shadows of a corrupted society.

We exposed them. The Elite. The royals. We spoke of the things they wanted to keep secret, and our deaths are the price we pay. It has been a long, hard battle. It was an uphill battle. A war that bled us dry as it stole from every one of us. From the first toll of the bell, duty summoned us.

It called on us to speak the truth: to live, fight, and die.

The Elite tried to silence us, but we, the so-called rebels, had found a truth that sought the light. History, my friends, refuses to be ignored. The past has a way of ensuring none would forget.

We wouldn't do it any other way. Not now, not after all we have done.

Our world, shaped by materialistic, opinionated, and self-centered worldviews, is a place of infinite possibilities. Earth, in all forms, can be as cruel as it can be beautiful. It is reactive. It never forgets.

Even if we decide to turn our backs on the horrors that have come and gone, the past will hold on. The soil under our feet, the oceans flowing deep into the ground, and the mountains will remember. They will remember.

I wanted to believe in the good of all creation.

Instead, I confront the darkness ingrained in our nature.

I face the shadows of war by choice. The things I will speak of may not make sense now, but every word is necessary for the things soon to come.

I accept that we live in a world of vanity, a place that emphasises the importance of things on the outside, such as how a person looks or how much money they have or what they are wearing, instead of the raw humanity pulsing beneath the skin.

The interconnectiveness of human community has fallen.

Neghibors, who had once been our friends, are now, more often than not, strangers whose names we know not. Trust dwindled until it was no more than an ancient fable. The bonds we had have crumbled beneath an era marked by the darkness of technology that has stolen the crown.

This cage I sit inside is the first and last I will ever know. In the few decades I've been alive, I have watched our people fall to pride, envy, and greed. The world has twisted into something I do not know, into something strange and alien. This world isn't my world, and that terrifies me.

Tomorrow, I will no longer be among the living.

With that knowledge, I have had time to sit back and reflect. This room I am in is bare save for a few essentials. The bed in the corner with its threadbare blanket has offered little comfort. The old, wooden desk and its seat have held my weight as I write my last few thoughts. Even the bucket for bodily waste in the corner has ensured I would not have to soil myself in my final hours.

My surroundings are simple, but they are functional.

Many would see this room as a prison, a cell that would leave them on edge, but I see it for what it is. Without the distractions a fully furnished cage would provide, I can, instead, think. I can piece everything I've done together and view it from a new angle without judgment.

I may not have been part of the raids like those I worked with in the last few years, but my actions in the war are undeniable. I never meant to be a source of pain, but the things I have put into motion have caused more harm than the killings that have swept across the kingdom.

The Elite are on the wrong path. There's no doubting that.

But to answer their actions with steel and fire? That is the wrong path. The choices we have made have only made things worse. More people are dead, more families are broken and bleeding, and the land is devoid of life in a way we have never seen before.

When we set out, we set out to fix the wrongs of those with too much power. What we've done is simple. We made ourselves like them. The difference between them and us is how we operate.

We exist as opposites of the same extremes.

I've written many things. My words have filled many hearts and minds, and I ask you again to take some time to find my words. I ask you to see the truth I have put to paper. To remember all you have heard me speak.

What I wanted then is what I want now. For this war to end, we all must play our part. I am sorry for the pain I have caused. I do not seek forgiveness. The things I have done are beyond mercy. It is a darkness I now know I can never run from, but one truth will always remain:

There is a time for peace, a time for war, and a time to die.

Fantasy
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About the Creator

Brittany Miller

As a writer who loves the fantastical and unnatural, Brittany enjoys writing fictional stories that fall into the fantasy and horror genres.

Find her here: https://www.facebook.com/thechaosarchivist

Or here: brittanicolemiller.wordpress.com

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