Peace in this House?

He could see it now. In front of the crowd laid an unremarkable brown box. But that box was marked with a significant importance, not by what was on the outside but that which was in its storage. Though it may be locked, that box represented liberty. One by one those in line advanced forward speaking into the confinements of the box their wish for freedom. As the person in front of the box finished, the person behind them in line lurched forward to replace them. Satisfaction covered every face as they walked away, a luminous glow enclothed their face. The gloomy shades of oppression washed away with the flames of change. The culmination of their efforts was on that podium and it was heaven sent. Hypocrisy no more. Oppression no more. Hope was in Pandora’s box. Only life and peace left, waiting to be unblocked. There was freedom in the air. It was freedom that raised his foot to take a step forward and to stand with his fellow men. It was for freedom that he…

He was shivering. The tears of tortured souls fell from heaven onto his shoulders and left streaks on his back. He checked the scopes on his rifle and made sure everything was intact. His fingers were getting stiff and his weapon started to slip, so he switched his grip. Bombing the church this afternoon?! That was it! They could handle the high taxes. They could handle the segregation of the different ethnicities. They could even handle the rumors. But bombing the churches, where the nuns took care of the sick and gave food to those who couldn’t afford it? No. The hospitals closed when their cash flow ran low, but then the sisters rose and took care of people. They didn’t turn away those in need just because they couldn’t pay. They were a symbol of hope, but even the place of refuge wasn’t safe. He refused to let evil reign, he had to take matters in his own hands and correct a mistake. Someone had to die and not just God’s son. Clenching his fist his gun started to rattle as his heart drummed preparing for battle. They would not be culled like cattle. Instead, they would buck like a bull. If he did this only good could come. It was time for a new dawn. There could only be up from here. Leaning up along the side of the chimney he waited. This country has been patient long enough.

The President buried his hands in his face as he muttered “I don’t know what to do anymore Rick”

“Sir, I don’t believe I follow you. Is this about Mrs….”

“No!” he said while springing up. “The Church was bombed!!!” he shouted over the clanging of the chair, toppling over onto the floor. Pacing back and forth around his table he muttered “Someone is framing me, Rick. Someone placed the bombs in the Church and passed these pamphlets out. Look at this.” Turning around and reaching into one of the drawers in his desk he slammed it down and with a huffing breath said “Look right here.” He stabbed down with his finger “Look, do you see what this says. It says that the Nuns were harboring terrorists and they had till noon to give them up. It even has my signet on it. “

“Really Sir? Could you bring it here under the light? You have to forgive me for my eyesight. “

Picking up the paper and shooting across the room, he handed the pamphlet to his assistant and then *CRACK* left the room.

*CRACK* The head of the president cracked open as the window shattered. The letters on the paper couldn’t be read, as red blood was splattered all over it. Slumping onto the floor the carpet on the floor started to turn mahogany. Rick just stood there in shock while he looked at the dead president put out of his agony.

“S-S-Sorry Sir, I was just trying to flush the rebels out for you” the assistant muttered as his knees gave out from under him and he joined the headless lump on the floor. Quiet regrets resonated throughout the room until it erupted in a swarm of boots.

“Next” the voice jolted me out of my thoughts as I realized that I was next to put my voice in the box. A smile blossomed across my face. There was killing under the previous government rule. True; but they could not kill our spirit. This time the tree of liberty was water with the blood of the tyrant. Now it could grow. Now we have a chance to show our approval and our no’s. We can choose our leaders; we don’t have to worry about any oppression or any grievance. With determined footfalls I rose up the steps and reached the podium. Stepping up to that stage I dropped my vote inside of the brown paper box. I did my duty to end the pandemonium. My country’s liberties would no longer be shunned. I escape to the doors that radiate forth the flame of freedom.

As owls took flight and the doors in the city were being locked, a knock could be heard across a room. Opening the chambers an official brought in rows of brown boxes collected throughout the principality.

“Shall we tally them up Sir?” asked the courtier to the shadow in the chair.

“No” swiveling around to look at the convoy “Burn them. We already know who the winner is” replied Rick. “This was to give false assurances.”