The Shadowed Rebel

I walk alone too much, and I really shouldn’t considering the reputation I’ve dragged with my name. Calypso Alston: the tragic poet and the person responsible for the uproar of the century; the one and only revolutionary. Though I don’t have much time to write poetry anymore, I am very passionate about the subject and I have taken the time to teach my nephew the ways of words when we find ourselves bored.

I was speaking to myself and in my head reciting a poem probably comparing human nature to a bird or maybe a flower. There was another person ahead of me which was ardently unexpected. They were standing so still as if they were waiting for me. I approached with not even an ounce of caution to see. Afterall, it does feel nice to be needed.

“Ms. Alston?” The person’s face was shaded by a black hat that most likely proactively hindered their vision. “To what do I owe the pleasure, dear stranger?” I reached out my hand and the person shook it with hesitation. “You are not as tenative as I would have thought. Do you know who I am?” They seemed almost disappointed by my answer. “I don’t know you whatsoever, but if you were trying to make you’re appearance seem like a bad omen, then you’ve definitely done well enough.” I lied and laughed.

“So you are not afraid that I could be here to kill you?” The person shifted their weight uncomfortably. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever been afraid, more like paranoid or terrified in a melancholy way, and yes it’s extremely synonymous but not if you think about it for a bit.” I grinned in a candid way, “And if you wanted to kill me, you wouldn’t have confronted me like this. So,” I paused and stepped closer to them, “why have you come to look for me when you know I’m supposed to be dangerous and such things. You’ve obviously been warned not to come here, so you hide you’re identity.”

The person paused to consider their response, “I guess,” they cleared their throat, “I wanted to see if you were real, if you were what they said you were.” “Do I meet your expectations?” I grinned. “Yes.” The person smiled back, “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” I replied.

“Why aren’t you the actual leader of the rebellion turmoil? You were the one who made up the idea and took the undergoud movement into a bigger thing. Why stay in the shadows when the people owe you so much.” The person questioned intently. “Since I’ve decided you are not here to hurt me I shall tell you.” I replied.

“Do you know what they do to revolutionaries, to innovators who challenge the mundane that was horrible in the first place?” I didn’t wait for thier reply, “They silcence them, kill them, I mean. I’m not the face of the revolution because I’m the one who was fierce enough to say that things needed to change. My people would miss me, I came up with all of the plans and what not. I would like to be there to finish what I started instead of rolling in an untimely grave wishing I could have fought alongside the people that I inspired.” I finished, “That’s why.”

The person remained speechless for an uncountable amount of seconds, and we stood trying to read each other’s expressions like the pages of a complex novel, but I was unequivocally the better reader. “Can I join?” The person spoke as if they were a child asking to play a game of tag with kids they’d never met.

“I’m not going to tell you no.” I replied, smiling satisfied, “I’m sure you know the risks you’re taking. You’re leaving a lot behing by doing this, you know?” “Yes, I know.” The person responded.

“When you phrase it like that, you make it seem like you’ve lost everything.” Ther person looked at me, almost sad. “Well, I wouldn’t say everything, but it’s pretty damn close.” I sighed. “Oh… I’m sorry.” The person said, unsure.” I didn’t say anything but instead smiled slightly because I couldn’t ever show anything else but that cockyness.

“I guess it’s just the price of being a revolutionary.” I said.

I turned on my heels and gestured for the person to follow after me. I would take them where the other rebels hid and they would become one of them, and I would probably never talk to them afterwards.

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