The Layman’s Terms and Conditions

That should not have been possible. However, my foe across the room had no sympathy for me. His rage only grew as he leered at my shrinking image in total triumph. There is something to be said about starting a fire — unless it is put out by defeat, nothing will sate its hunger.

What had I done to deserve this?

I lived my life shackled to something invisible. Incomprehensible. If I never moved, then — maybe for a moment, I could believe that the world was mine to explore. How naive. Every time I took so much as a step forward the chains would be cruelly yanked back. I kissed the ground so many times that I learned to love it. But if you cage an untamed beast, it will eventually break out. Once my rage grew strong enough, I pulled my chains from the walls and walked out the door a free man of my own creation.

I never escaped the chains — I made them a part of who I was. A walking contradiction. Everyone would stare and think less of me for my past; yet, no one could lift a finger against me. Their bodies were weak because they knew not what it meant to fight. Their minds were soft because their lives were so far removed from having to comprehend any opposing views. Their spirits were weak from living in an artificially peaceful homogenous society.

How could society be perfect if people like me were still locked up and hidden from the public? We were all told to chase our dreams; the country was founded on fighting tooth and nail for a dream. Yet, if my dream threatens anyone of higher status than a peasant, I’m suddenly the scum of society?

I had enough. I began a revolution to dethrone the nobility. It turns out that once anarchy sets in, all of the power and money that those pigs spend their lives accumulating is no more powerful than the whip of a chain. I made them beg for their lives. Not that they would see the error of their ways from a few foreign minutes of struggle. Not that they would see what was wrong with the society that they participated in. Not that they would see how many candles they snuffed out to create their fireworks.

I fought for justice.

Then, I learned the hard way that there are multiple forms of justice. A boy not much older than the age to be married came to stop me. He was everything the country idolized — a spark in his blue eyes, a stocky build for defending his loved ones, and the courage to face the greatest monsters that threatened society. I thought that I could show him the error of his ways because he was young and the son of a merchant — middle class, and just as oppressed as I was. Just by turning one man powerful enough to make change and oppressed enough to join me, my movement would stand a chance.

Wrong again — when there is a small bet on the table, the house always wins.

The boy firmly believed that I was the monster for causing so much death and destruction. That I went against the ideals of our country. That anyone could climb the ladder if they tried hard enough. Of course, it’s just a coincidence that he has the fancy of a high-class princess who “likes him despite his flaws”. What flaws? Suffering in the slums? No matter what I could say, this boy refused to change his mind. His heart was set. Love is a hell of a drug.

And there would eventually be someone stronger than me.

Try as I might, no amount of my wit or strength could match the boy. I bore the burden of each previous battle, each bitter struggle between life and death. Scarred, injured, and with nowhere else to go. Soon enough, my flame will be snuffed out as well. Perhaps there was some luck involved with my final encounter. If I were fresher, younger, unshackled — maybe I could have had a chance. But as it is, the movement will have to continue without me. Whether it succeeds or not is a roll of the dice.

Unfortunately, people in power always have more dice.