The clock struck six. I was waiting in my apartment for
people to arrive with James.
“So where’s your father? I’m surprised he’s not around,”
James asked.
“I was able to get him to go stay with my uncle tonight. I
convinced him that what I really needed was to be alone after Paul’s death.”
“He has no clue what’s going on? Don’t you think he should?”
“No, he doesn’t and for his safety I believe it’s best he
stay ignorant to everything,” I said matter-of-factly.
By 6:30 about ten people made it into my apartment and I
decided to start. I stood up and said, “First, I’d like to thank you guys for
coming tonight. I wanted you all to come here to discuss the atrocities that
are occurring to us. We need to stick up for ourselves. We need a plan. I don’t
know about you but I have had enough of this shit and I think it’s time we
stuck up for ourselves. I think if we get enough people we can start small and have
a protest. After that we can move on to bigger and better things and maybe
ultimately end this tyranny.”
I went over some ideas I had but nobody seemed too
receptive. Eventually I heard, “This is never going to work, it’s not worth it
to try anything. Let’s all just leave and forget about this!”
People nodded in agreement and started to leave. Before
anyone could get to the door though, I picked up a vase that was sitting next
to me and threw it across the room. “Somebody died yesterday! Somebody that we
all worked with! Somebody we cared about! His name was Paul Robson! He died
standing up for what was right, what was honorable! How can you not see that
something has to be done?!?”
The room suddenly fell silent. There were looks of shock and
awe at my outburst. After what seemed like forever, somebody finally spoke up.
“I’m with you. You’re right, Morrigan, we have to fight this or eventually we
will all end up like Paul.”
The room suddenly reacted and shouts of agreement were
heard.
One voice asked, “So what are we going to do and how will we
do it?”
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