Prompt: What it means to me to be black.
To be or not to be that is the question? Is being black a fashion statement? I can go get this black power shirt, right? Is being black a box, check? Going back to our ancestor ground of Africa, I’m from the Bahamas. Hands up with cops, yep. Having the medical system against us the second we are convinced, yes. The school is whitewashed and brainwashed by color-wait wait wait? What was the question, Oh-what it means to be black? I mean that I will stand next to my brothers and sisters and other genders for the rights of one of the most jailed and oppressed ethnicities in America. I will not stop there, native Americans, Asians, Hispanics; we all are victims of European oppression passed down through racism, segregation, blind killings, and senseless violence just because we look different and damn good at it, To be black means that I might have a disadvantage in your eyes but we are changing the system. We are not our ancestors, we are going to throw hands and pick up the other minorities. We out-power you, we outnumber you. Once we stop letting you divide us then what then? To be black is to fight for our liberty, freedom, and equality.
The screams of her husband’s people echoed in the burning palace. She never wanted to be here, she never wanted to bring harm upon another. She was forced. The traitor Empress stood tall with her armor and blade. To bring peace she had to suffer. To free her people, she had to be caged. A guard comes charging from the smoky column, attempting an ambush. Without hesitation, she cuts him down and kept walking. Walking past the ruined throne room littered with wealthy corpses of nobles. She kept walking until she came to the Emperor’s study. Over the bodys of his strongest guards stood her freed people. The door was opened and the Emperor sat, tied to his last throne. The man whimpered and the woman smiled. “King of Glen, I offer you a choice. Since your kingdom enslaved my people after draining our mana filled mines. You broke the peace treaty.” The king hung his head in shame. He was a mere puppet, the money grubbing nobles pulling on his strings. Grabbing the hilt of a discarded sword, she used the tip of the blade to make him meet her eyes. “Poor King Zogg, your failed redemption of your kingdom’s former glory by enslaving another race, fails greatly” The woman gestured to the burning kingdom behind him. “My redemption for trading my freedom for a broken peace treaty begins with your head”
These prompts were written by Ashlee Fields. Keep an eye out for more of her work in the future!
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