Luca Simi The Barlow RC High School

Luca Simi

The Barlow RC High School

Sunrise. Today we march. Today we break the chains. Today we revolutionise the future.

My name is Lewis. I am 14. I am alive.

The people in charge of our country neglect that. To them we are just walking debts that they collect. My Mother, my Father, my two older sisters and my baby brother. All of us together can’t make a change, but an entire city with one idea, sharing one belief can.

I picked up my scruffy grey jacket. My Father picked up the blue and golden banner.

The 16th August was going down in history. The old gypsy (our next door neighbour) said croakily, “The crows are coming.” My Father told us to ignore her. I was confused but she wasn’t going to survive the winter so we tried to be as kind as possible.

We walked out on to St. Peter’s Square. The wind danced on my skin. 60,000 people, 60,000 men, women and children. This will be the biggest gathering in Manchester’s history.

A man named Henry Hunt stood on a raised wooden platform. He spoke with words as sharp as knives, “We are the forgotten, we are the hungry, the dying and the poor,” As he spoke I looked around and I saw a woman. She was in her window. She saw me and shut the curtains. It was strange. Why wasn’t she here? The protest continued throughout the day. A man on stage was speaking. When he stopped. Why did he stop? GALLOP! What was that? GALLOP GALLOP! Something was coming. My baby brother began to cry.

A murder of crows flew into the Square. A sudden silence loomed over the crowd. The floor vibrated. The Square lit up with an outburst of squawks from the crows.

“CHARGE!” exclaimed a man.

Without warning, masses of men on horseback filled the Square. Panic spread across the crowd as quickly as the plague spread through England. People ran to the sides of the Square. It was no use. There was no escape.

They came in with sabres out. They came in with drunken rage. They swung their sabres slicing a woman’s arm to the bone. A horse ran between me and my family, separating us. I stared into my Father’s eyes. His eyes filled with fear. More and more horses ran past. I only saw glimpses of my family. My Mother was crying, holding my sisters in her arms. Something sharp hit my back. I turned to see blood spilled on the floor and when I turned back around my family was gone. I ran and didn’t look back, scared of the horrors.

A man on horseback sped in front of me, slicing a man’s throat. The man clutched his neck in agony. It was too late, he fell to the floor as the blood stained his shirt. I spun in a circle, the noise being blocked from my ears.

All around, people were screaming. Men, women and children were being cut down before my eyes. They were pushing and shoving to escape the inescapable. In the corner of my eye, above the bloodbath, the woman that was in the window before peered out at the pain and confusion.

Amongst all the screams, she chuckled. While we were being cut, she laughed. Whilst we were dying for basic rights, she just smiled.

Out of the blue, my Dad ran at me with my baby brother. He gave me my brother and told me to run. I saw an opening. I ran. I fell on a boy and dropped my baby brother. I crawled to reach him. But not in time. A horse charged and trampled my brother of two years. The man on the horse hit me over the head.

I awoke to silence. I awoke to crows. I awoke to blood. The world felt different. The floor wasn’t vibrating. I looked around and saw my Mother, I looked around and saw my entire family. Trampled and surrounded by an ocean of crimson blood. I held my brother and cried.

The blood dried and stained the rocks. It stained the Earth. I looked to the sky and looked at the sunset and the Earth laid still.