Monday, 7 November 2016

Protest pt 2

March 15th 2023
She hates Australia and everyone knows it, I wonder what she’ll do for homework. As soon as the sheet gets handed out her face morphs into a lopsided frown. She tries not to show designation towards the paper but you can tell she throws up silently. Her face looks twisted as she scans the brief again, her expression more nauseous. She’s so  focused on her sheet of paper she doesn’t notice 30 different stare’s stabbing into her head, watching her response. Maybe she’ll start a protest, maybe she’ll share it to the world.

August 23rd 2023
We have to do something, we can’t sit back and wait. We’ve already lost 9 insufferable burning years to lazy, slack humans. I clench my fists and wipe away the sweat dripping down my forehead. I try not to show the people how much I’m shaking inside so I stand tall and proud and remember that no matter what happens, what i’m doing is right. I inhale deeply and tell myself to speak clearly, to not let the words tumble. I re-read my words, panicking slightly as I glance at the thousands of people waiting patiently, anticipating what my plan is and what I will do. Worrying thoughts run through my mind, making me cry inside.
What if  I’m too young?
What if they won’t trust me because I’m 9?
What if nothing changes and by the time they realise something’s wrong it will be too late, we’ll have to take off in a spaceship that’s not ready, or even made?
I grasp my papers tightly in my hands that tremble and wipe the dust of the sahara off my clothes. They open the curtains and I stroll through, my chest held high even though I feel stupid.
Remember Pippy, this is something you love, I remind myself.
I take a deep breath and shuffle my papers nervously in my hands.
My voice shakes each word I breath.

“My name is Pippy,” I quiver anxiously. “Remember the water-hole?...”

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