Ficly

The Revolution

dad, my mom, maybe even my younger brother, they had been killed in the revolution. I could almost hear my family singing, singing the revolution song. But now, a girl who had little chance of ever achieving her dreams was now hopeless. The revolution had ravaged the land, ravaged the people. Nothing was left untouched. I snuck around for a few weeks,interviewing those that had survived. Then I began on my own story, one of a family of peace, then of the death and destruction of the revolution. I sent my story to a handful of newspapers, in America. Three weeks later, I received a letter from my neighbors. One. Of the newspapers wanted to publish my story. They had sent 20 American dollars in advance, with more to be paid if I accepted. I accepted.

This story has no comments.