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REVOLUTION

‘Don’t stop!’

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My thighs burn as I struggle to keep up with the prison guard.

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I was told he could be trusted, my mother had paid him well, but as I run through the dark, narrow, underground tunnel, I wonder if he had agreed to help me escape because the money was good or if it was because he believed in the cause.

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In the golden lamplight, the prison guard’s glossy eyes and damp leathery face remind me of my father. Ever since I can remember, he’s carried a constant uneasiness around with him like he’s always expecting the worst to happen, and more often than not, his fears are valid.

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Yet he understands the sacrifices my mother has to make. The battles she chooses to fight will leave a dent in history until the end of time.

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My heart pounds and sweat drips into my eyes. I wipe my brow with the back of my hand and look behind me to make sure no one is following.

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‘We’re here,’ says the prison guard.

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Ahead, moonlight seeps through a canopy of mature oak trees and the smell of dank earth fills my nostrils. I step out of the tunnel and he recovers a backpack from under some bracken ferns.

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‘Everything you need is in here,’ he says as he hands it to me.

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I unzip the bag, pull out a torch, and throw the backpack on my back.

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The prison guard takes my arm and his tired eyes lock with mine. ‘For the record, I’m more afraid of them winning the election than I am of getting caught tonight. I have kids, you know?’

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I nod as I try to catch my breath.

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‘I may not agree with all the methods your mother uses to get what she needs, but I also understand that the only way she’s going to win is by playing by the same rules.’

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‘My mother has the biggest heart of anyone I know,’ I say. ‘When she comes to power, the world as we know it will change for the good.’

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The prison guard squeezes my arm and I catch sight of the same desperation that is simmering across the entire country.

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‘Just tell me she’s going to—’. His voice is both thick and broken.

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‘—she’ll win.’

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The End

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© Michelle Upton

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