by Kate Frewerd

Created on: February 20, 2009

"The Final Protest"

"It never would have worked." She said under her breath. She thought of walking away, but then what would she do with herself. While the world was busy around her she could not hear it; silence had fallen around her. Traffic on the street before her sped past; the wind from the racing vehicles pulled her hair, blouse, and skirt away from the right side of her body. She heard the wind as the immaterial parts of her whipped through the air. She didn't move. Looking to her left and then to her right she could see them all walking past. Maybe she could gain strength from their motivation. "What are they doing? Where are they going? What is the point?" She thought. As she adjusted her footing she could hear the dirt on the sidewalk grind beneath her feet. The toes of her shiny red high heels fell slightly past the curbs edge. Looking up from her adjustment she thought, "This is as close as I can get." She could barely see the magnificent white structure through the trees.

Having never protested like this before she didn't know how to feel; most of the time she was numb. The only time she had ever protested in the past was for him. It was difficult for her to remember, but just as difficult for her to forget. The last day she protested for him was especially hard. Other times she had told him she did not want him to leave, but this time was different. This time she wasn't just saying it to show she cared about him. She became fearful that day like no other day in her life. She knew it was going to be bad; she could feel it. This time she had to scream out to him. "Don't leave me again! I can't do this without you! I don't want to do this without you!" She cried. She knew he couldn't be stopped; she wasn't physically strong enough and knew he had no choice in the matter. Even knowing this she stood in front of him and was not going down without a fight. She hated protesting, because she knew it was making him feel even worse than he already did. She grabbed him by the arms and pleaded with him to stay. He kissed her forehead and hugged her, but he did not say a word; he couldn't. His swelling eyes told how he felt, and as he moved to walk away his tear fell on her face. She pulled at his uniform while her father held her back. It was her last attempt to keep him. She cried, screamed, and fought to break free; she refused to believe it was a pointless effort.

As she stood on the curb she remembered the last time she protested for him. As much as it hurt her to remember that protest it gave her the strength to do it again. She thought of how much he suffered, she suffered, and his family suffered. Her heart ached as she thought of all he went through; his sacrifice. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her Ipod; it had been in there, alongside a small piece of paper, for a few months. As she put the Stone Sour song Zzyzx Rd on repeat she placed the head phones in her ears. She took the time to listen to it once more; she glared at the big white building as the song played. She could see traffic coming out of the corner of her eye and she was almost at the end of the song. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Still too tired to care and I got to go!" she heard the singer scream; the last words of the song. She leaned forward as it came; her shiny red high heels were falling with her on her final protest.

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