Chapter Nine: First Ending...
When the last Newspaper written by Marylin was published, you could almost hear everyone’s reaction.
“Oh my god, the daughter of Clayton!” One husband says to his wife.
“Wait, his own daughter disagrees with him?” Says a supporter of the Supremacy. “Do you think this is good? I mean…she is right. A lot of people died.” He asks his wife – wife that was raped three months ago and is now pregnant. His wife does not answer – of course, Marylin was right. Things needed to change.
“I can’t believe it was her all along. Do you really think he will kill his daughter?”
People that lost their loved ones cried while reading The Newspaper. Marylin was the voice of them all, if she is gone, who’s going to speak for them?
Fewer people were supporting the Supremacy. In fact, even soldiers of the Supremacy were giving up Clayton Marshall. It makes sense; his own daughter disapproves his choices. If he can’t maintain his daughter, how can he keep a whole nation?
When Davin read The Newspaper – when he read his part, he closed his eyes as tight as he could. “I should’ve listened to you.” He says, full of remorse. He reopened his eyes and forced himself to read the whole article. Her words definitely were her weapons; she stabbed him in the heart. And he deserved it.
Once he finished reading the article over and over, he puts it down and stands up.
When the very last Newspaper has been distributed, there were thousands of hundreds of people in front of Marylin’s house, some were praying for her, for them. Some were singing; some were chanting her name, some were chanting the national anthem. Even if Marylin could hear it, she wasn’t in her house anymore. She was walking to the principal public place. When someone yelled, “To the public place!” they all followed and went there.
When the little amount left of the soldiers of the Supremacy saw Marylin, they ran to her and handcuffed her. One soldier went inside the building and into the office of Clayton.
“Sir, your daughter is outside, we got her.”
Clayton looks up and sighs. Does he really have to kill his daughter? Of course, he does. Does he want it? More than anything. Clayton stands up and straightens his suit, almost like he wanted to look presentable for the moment he will shoot his daughter.
He nods and walks out of his office. When he arrives outside the whole place is silent, he looks at the people watching every move he makes.
At this right moment when he’s standing in front of his daughter who’s holding the eye contact with her father.
“You’ve betrayed me, Marylin.”
“Oh Father, forgive me for what I’ve sinned…” Marylin was smiling. She knew what was coming.
To Davin’s side – he went to his bedroom and took his gun. Should he be a coward until the end? It will make sense anyway, and to be honest with himself, he’s not the type to fight, not like Marylin who was standing in front of her father, the leader of the Supremacy.
So he decided to give up, he did not want to fight at all – whether it was the right or wrong side. He killed his sister, and the girl he loved was going to die too. So if there is truly a Heaven as they say, if he’s lucky enough for him to be forgiven of his sins, he will go up there and will join his sister and Marylin. But he did not think much of it if there were a Heaven and a Hell – he’s going to hell for what he did. And he deserved it, at least that is what he thought.
Clayton closes his eyes. Marylin was irritating him, and he knew this is what she wants. He stands up straight and speaks louder for everyone to hear.
“You’ve transgressed every law of the Supremacy. As the daughter of the leader you should’ve never betrayed your nation and me.”
“I’m honoring my country by standing up to you, who wants to destroy it! Your way is not the way to do things! You can’t decide life or death on another human, you don’t have this right, you don’t have this power and you never will. You might kill me today, but my memory will remain, the souvenir of my acts will keep me alive.”
Clayton raises his hand. “Give me the gun.” One of the soldiers gives him the gun. Clayton charges it without breaking eye contact with Marylin. “On your knees.” He orders. Marylin scoffs “Never, father.”
Davin looks at the picture of Emilia, Marylin and him. He sadly smiles, he loads the gun, aims it to his temple and pulls the trigger. His body falls limp on the ground, his blood on the ground and the walls. On the table next to the picture of the three of them, was an envelope, “The letter of a guilty Supremacy’s soldier.”
Clayton aims the gun at Marylin’s head; he takes the safety off and shoots. You could hear a global “Oh!” from the citizens. There was a silence, Clayton took a moment to put his arm down. He looks at the body of his daughter on the ground in a pool of her own blood.
“Let my daughter be an example of the consequences of betraying your nation and me. If any of you think you might get pity from me, remember the day I shot my own daughter. We own you; you owe us!”
Nobody said anything. He was right if he did not hesitate to kill his daughter he would never hesitate to kill one of them. So even after years after Marylin’s death – nothing changed, no things went worse. When Clayton died, his son he had with a woman he raped, took his place. People would say that he’s worse than Clayton, but on Marylin’s death anniversary, they remember that no one can be worse than Clayton. When the previous generation died, and the new one took place, things were moving as Clayton Jr. wanted.
How did you want things to happen? They grew up in a world where raping women is the only way to keep the high Supremacy going, where when you’re too old to be useful, you must die. In a world where little girls or little boys can’t reproduce themselves, they get killed.
Once a week, every house was being searched for any trace of betrail. The highest crime is to have anything related to Marylin Marshall, she is a real symbol of hope, even to the new generation. Her story is shared from mother to daughter or son and on to the next.
Parents use Marylin as a model for their daughters and use Davin’s letter as a model for their sons.
Perhaps there is no skyscraper, towers, anthem, or flags as a symbol of freedom, hope, and love, but there is still the memory of Marylin and Davin as symbols. And this is the real aim Sad Stories was for.
