I don't struggle as the guards lead me up the stage. The crowd watches in stunned silence, all eyes on me and me alone. There is nothing I can do now. My past means nothing anymore and all my words will be forgotten. Red and Scream will be left alone. They're standing on the other side of the stage, well-guarded as well but lacking chains. I flash them a small smile.

Red screams my name and rushes towards me. Guards try to hold him back but he pushes through. He manages to reach me and cries into my hair. His eyes are puffy and more tears spill down his cheeks. I choke back my own, knowing that no pity will be shown here today.

"Mute," he mumbles, "I can't. I just can't do it." I move my hands up to grip his shirt, pushing myself away just a bit. He looks down at me and I can tell he's trying hard not to break down into a mess of screams and cries. I know he'll never give them that satisfaction.

"Red, listen to me. Live. Continue on. This is where I end, but not you." Red is about to say something before a guard finally comes to take him away. Again, he tries to break free but the guards know better this time. They grip his arms and pull him back to the edge of the stage to Scream. She's trying hard not to cry too.

The guards lead me to the center of the stage and force me to my knees. I comply as they link the chain around my wrists to the wooden floor. Once they make sure I'm going not anywhere, they leave me for all to see. I look at the crowd, my eyes scanning over each and every person. People pack in together as far as the eye could see. All of them have grim expressions. But no one dares to move.

After a few moments of silence, a man dressed in a crisp black suit comes onto the stage. In one hand is a vial of red liquid and in the other a sheet of paper. Everybody knows what's on the paper before he even reads it. Yet the tension is still thick. He walks across the stage until he is standing next to me. I look up at him while he sneers and holds the paper out in front of him. He coughs a couple times before speaking, which is unnecessary. You could hear a single heartbeat.

"The Government of Equalis and Her people have charged you with crimes against the society as a whole, as well as committing illegal acts of rebellion against our rules and regulations. How do you plead?" he asks, his voice dripping with poison. I look defiantly out at the crowd.

"What people have charged me? These people? If that were the case, then why are you reading off my convictions and not one of them? And what crimes have I committed? Equalis is supposed to be a safe place for all-" A sharp kick in my ribs sends me to my side, momentarily taking away my breath. I hear Red cry out in anger and Scream start shouting profanities. I simply sit back onto my knees and try to regain my breath.

"I plead . . . not guilty." The crowd begins to murmur to themselves. They all know I've done nothing wrong but speak the truth. And now they're starting to realize it. But it's too little too late. I watch their expressions change from somber to slightly outrage. Still, the prosecutor keeps talking, ignoring the crowd's sudden change in attitude.

"You have already been tried for your crimes. You are guilty. Yet you still plead innocent? You are an ignorant child, Mute. These people are not convicting you because nobody wants to deal with a child. A child cannot be reasoned with." The prosecutor starts to walk around me, eyeing me carefully. I watch him out of the corner of my eyes but still keep my gaze focused on the crowd.

"Not guilty," I say again. The prosecutor steps in front of me. He slaps me hard, causing me to fall to my side. Red's gasps and struggling reaches my ears. My cheek stings but still I say nothing and sit back up. I look up at him before spitting out blood at his feet, staining his black shoes red. This gets me a kick in the gut. I start coughing as he walks away.

"Fortunately for you, Equalis has execution rules that even I must follow. You are allowed ten to say whatever more you have to say before you die," the prosecutor explains, sounding bored. He steps off to the side, near Red and Scream. Both are sending him death glares. I tear my gaze away from them and look at the crowd. My words need to be memorable. Because these are going to be my last ones.

"You may all see me now as a traitor or a monster. Those are just titles; none of them true. What I am is a human being who has realized that there's more to life than conforming to society's standards. Life is all about growing up and being you. And if that means being different than what you're taught to be, then so be it. That's how you were born and nothing can change you. It all depends on how you see yourself and how you decided to use that information

"My family looked at me and saw a beautiful young lady. I looked at myself and saw somebody trying on a costume. You look at me now and see a rebel in your own country, a terrorist even. But you don't see me for what I was, just what I am now. You don't realize how happy that makes me. For the past year, I've been ME and not some stupid rule.

"Most of you have heard my words. You know who I really am. I'm not just an ignorant child as the government would have you believe. I have known and experienced a few things that even they can't begin to understand or know. The two you see on the other side of the stage can vouch for me on that. I'm different, but because you see me as different. You don't realize how many people you see every day who might be living a lie, just as I was. Think about that and your own life. You might be that person and not realize it.

"The world is full of mysteries outside of our own little country. There are religions and ideas, philosophies and beliefs, foreign to our own. There are people out there who live the way they were intended to live with natural freedom and no government telling them how they should act and in what manner they should behave in, based on how they were born. I know this because I have seen and heard accounts of these worlds. They exist. Not only that, but they are thriving with life.

"Living a lie isn't living at all. You wake up; go through the motions of the day, all the while faking what you're feeling. Society has forced that on you. They're telling you how to feel. You don't get to see what you could become. And yet they tell you that what you feel is wrong and you're being brainwashed. Society has brainwashed us, though nobody notices. Take a look around you and your own life.

"Every morning at school, the kids say a memorized pledge to a country who doesn't even acknowledge personal freedom. That's considered patriotism, not brainwashing. Every day, you have to act as if the government isn't corrupt and killing innocents because they don't like them. That's standards, not brainwashing. So you mean to tell me that I'm wrong because I won't allow myself to be brainwashed by a few people who think their idea is better just because they're in power?

"What do you think of when you see me? Do you think of me as a rebellious teenager? Or as a convict? There are those out there who see me as a hero and a role-model. I'm standing up to injustice in our supposed "perfect system." If it were so perfect, then people like me wouldn't exist. Just because you make it illegal, doesn't mean we are going to change. Nothing can change how you feel about yourself and how you see yourself living. It comes from deep inside you, taking hold of your being until you can no longer stand it.

"I have seen people rot away as their minds keep lying to their hearts. I have seen people die from others telling them that who they are isn't right. And you plan to do the same thing to me? What will accomplish besides creating a martyr? How many more children have to die before you realize that what you're doing is murder? How do you even live with yourselves? You're living a lie just as much as those who are in hiding.

"Every single one of you is a killer. Even I am. We force our opinions on others, killing them with our own thoughts. We have this idea of how others should be and force that onto them. It's in human nature. Based on how someone looks, we get this preconceived thought about how they should act and be in the real world. Someone who is homeless might be the smartest person in the world. But you wouldn't know that by looking at them from the outside. You need to hear their voice, watch them behave, be them for only a moment before deciding who they are.

"Look around you. You all came here today. For what? To see me die? You could have all just read that in the news or saw it on TV. No, you came here for something else. You came to hear what I have to say. To see for real if all the rumors about me are true. Well, they are. Though now it's too late for you to pass your judgment on me. My fate has been decided, whether you agree with it or not. So are the words "Her people" true now?"

"I'm going to have to stop you there," the prosecutor says, walking over to me. I narrow my eyes at him. I'm not finished. He stands behind me and grabs my hair, making me yelp, then forces me to look at the crowd. I struggle to free myself though it only causes him to yank up on my head. The prosecutor then grips the back on my shirt, literally ripping it off of me.

"Do you see why we have rules? It's so this doesn't happen to our own children. This is why our country has regulations." The crowd begins to talk within itself, louder this time, as they look at the two long scars on my chest. I feel the rage swelling inside me and take a deep breath. I can't get angry. Not when I'm so close.

"Listen! These scars are nothing compared to the price I would've paid if I stayed who I was. I would be a walking corpse, living a lie forced onto me by our society. Nobody wants to live like that! It's a personal Hell far worse than any punishment that can be dealt upon us by human beings. It's up to us to choose how we live. As a lie or as ourselves. I'm not the same girl who was born 19 years ago. I've matured into the man I was always meant to be. Everything happens for a reason. That's why I exist." The prosecutor lets go of my head as the crowd begins to uproar. My words are reaching them.

"You exist for a reason. That reason is to live the life you were meant to, not the one you were born with. People and feelings change. None of you are the same person you were a year ago, or even a month. You're constantly changing. So why can't I? Why can't others? Why can't we defeat the cultural norm and do something extraordinary? Because society doesn't approve of it? If you ask me, I don't approve of that. And If others don't, then where does that put our "rules"?"

The crowd is on the verge of rioting. People are clamoring to get close to the stage, fighting against the guards and shouting obscenities. Satisfaction fills me but only for a moment. The prosecutor steps in front of me and bends down. His sneer is back and he waves the vial in front of me. He opens it, grabs my head, and forces me to drink all of it. The poison burns my throat and I begin to cough immediately. The prosecutor steps away with a devilish grin.

My lungs suddenly feel like they're filling with liquid and it's getting harder to breath. I collapse on the ground, my breathing heavy. I struggle to get back into a sitting position at least. Though the damage has been done. The red poison is now coursing through my veins and spreading to my heart. How ironic, actually. Red is my favorite color.

"You don't have to keep living like this," I try to shout over the growing crescendo of the crowd. Though with getting very little oxygen, it was making my head spin. "If we join forces, we can defeat them. All throughout history there have been accounts of revolution against the government. It's our duty to-"I break off in a coughing fit, doubling over as my body starts to lose feeling. The crowd just gets louder. When the fit subsides, I pant for breath and speak again.

"The government is nothing without the people. You can chose to stand up for your rights or continue to be oppressed. That's what your choice is. Not how you were born to think or act." I cut off quickly as another coughing fit occurs, this one lasting longer than the first. All feeling suddenly leaves my body and I fall to my side, curling in on myself. It seems as if my arms and legs are unresponsive to anything and my head weighs a ton. My vision is becoming fuzzy before focusing again, going back and forth. Yells erupt all around me and I hear Red shout something. A figure comes over to my side and bends down, taking me in their arms. I blink a couple times and realize it's Red.

"Oh God, Mute. Please no..." he says, rocking back and forth. I cough and taste the metallic tang of blood. Some of it dribbles down my lips. Red buries his face in my neck and I can feel his tears slide down my back. A coughing fit comes over me and I know I stained his skin with some of my blood. When it's gone, I try to speak once again.

"Red, listen to me. Don't hang...too long," I say, my voice getting caught in my throat as another coughing fit comes up. My chest feels like it's tightening up and I know I only have a few moments left to say what I really wanted to say. Red grips me tight and I would return the embrace but my body wouldn't move. He's still muttering.

"Red, listen. Find another. I'm done." At this, Red sobs loudly and begins rocking faster. Another figure stands behind him, all black. The prosecutor looks down at the two of us with a smirk. I'm too weak to even be angry at him. The only thing I feel now is pity. For those who have to watch this and for those who know what this feels like. This moment has happened to so many others.

My breaths are only pants now and my vision is starting to turn black at the edges. A few more seconds and I'm gone. I have no regrets for what I've done. To others and to myself. I was just trying to survive. My parents probably don't feel any pity. They lost a son, though they'll never see it like that. Scream will be hurt for a while, but she'll soon move on. She normally does. It won't take long for her to start a rebellion. I'm sure that she'll have willing participants when this is all over. That's the thing about martyrs. You never really get rid of them. As for Red...

I can still feel the warmth of his body pressed against mine, even as the feeling in my limbs begins to fade away completely. His sobs are faint now and his body shakes with the effort to try and keep them back. So badly I want to hold him. I want to repay him for all those times he's helped me. But now the darkness has almost won over my sight. There's a slight pressure on my lips and a hand through my hair. The touch begins to fade as the time comes. Red needs to know, though.

"I love...you, Red. Just don't...don't forget me. I...need you to...do that. Red, don't stop-"

Then the darkness won.