Simón
The screaming of powerful words fills your ears. It enters your being and finds its way into your chest, reverberating inside of you. It gives you a new heart beat. You cast the old one from your memories. It wasn't as strong and it didn't make you feel alive like this one does. You force your shoulders back, your chin up, and you belt out the chant that has been swelling up inside your soul, and it soars from your lips, joining the other verbal energy. It surrounds you and you rise up in it like a colossal tidal wave.
"Free the people! Free the people!" On and on the screaming grows louder as if it ever died out, the people would die with it. Not for a moment does it grow laborious. If anything, it seems to gain more power, more meaning, every time they yell:
"Free the people!"
Your throat is raw. You ignore the pain like the government has ignored the pain of its citizens for so many soul crushing years. You've got numbers now. You've got power now.
The system will fall today.
You forcefully shove your fist into the air above your head to the rhythm of the rebellion. You've lost control of your voice and you are sure that your mouth no longer expels words but only screams of desperation and anger. The crowd around you continues to push toward the capital but you fall to your knees in their midst and squeeze your eyes shut. You scream and scream until you aren't on the grass, aren't in this moment, you're standing inside of a flame and its burning you alive.
Then you are pulled from the scene and dumped back onto the dead grass in from of the capital. You're alone. The people are standing on the balcony of the capital, pounding on the windows with their fists and you can still hear their souls chanting:
"Free the people!"
You pick yourself up and scramble to your feet, shuffling towards the capital, towards your people--your beautiful, powerful people. You shove your way through the wall of bodies in protest and you find yourself standing in front of the capital door. You remain in that moment, your chest rising and falling with the effort to control your ragged breathing. You feel a white, hot rage collecting inside you and it explodes, sending your body into the door with a deafening scream. It tumbles from its hinges and you're left standing in the doorway. The people roar in approval.
"Free the people!"
You charge through the entrance with your army pressing close behind you. Your mouth is open wide but your scream is lost in the chaos surrounding you. You storm through the building, lighting fire to everything in sight with a torch you ripped from the wall to your left. The heat is blistering and the flames lick your skin.
"Free the people!"
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