we, the people || Atticus's speech
Jun 8, 2017 5:59:50 GMT -5
Post by ali on Jun 8, 2017 5:59:50 GMT -5
Atticus readied himself at the side of the stage as the person ahead of him came to the end of their speech. He fidgeted with his que cards inside his jacket pocket- a jacket worn and moth eaten from days stood on frosty hillsides over grave stones and freshly turned earth. Atticus had tried his best to make look presentable. The seamstress had told him she'd sewn up the biggest holes, but the rest she could not do without patching it up. He told her he did not mind and had thanked her for her work.
The round of applause signalled his opponents exit, and his entrance. He held back for a brief moment, his gaze fixating on the podium before he strode up the steps with as much confidence he could muster. The crowd applauded again like well trained animals, before they fell quiet once again as Atticus took his place behind the microphone. Withdrawing his cards, he set them down on the podium in front of him, inhaling deeply to calm his nerves.
"Ladies, Gentleman..." He began, clearing his throat, gaze casting downward momentarily to look at his cards before returning his gaze to the audience. "You may not know me, or care much for who I am and if I were in your position I would probably not care about who stood on stage. They are not like me- I would think- they have charisma, talent, knowledge, wealth. The list could go on, ladies and gentleman, but I can assure you, I have...absolutely none of that"
He chuckles, and so do some members of the audience.
"I may have charisma, after a drink or two but I am a simple man. I have not grown up in wealth, in prosperity. I have worked hard everyday of my life just to put bread on the table for my family which is what the majority of us are doing. Day in. Day out. Not all of us are Doctors, pharmasits- they are the few. The majority of us do not even work in the trade our District is known for- the majority of us, are, just like me. Just like you. We work in the factories, the streets, the schools, all to put bread on the table to feed our families-"
A pause.
"-And even then. It is a struggle still- we may be able to feed our families but we do not have the money left over to care for our families. My wife died of a cold. A cold- the simplest of things to cure killed my wife because we could not afford to pay for the medicine that is so readily avaliable to those who can. Why should we stand for this- us, the majority- stand for our children dying because we cannot afford medicine, food, the basic neccesities in order to survive.
If you vote for me, as your mayor I will not only be a voice for those of wealth and power- but I will be a voice for the majority. I will insure that not another child dies in their mothers arms because they cannot get to a Doctor! I will ensure that husbands go to work without the dull ache of hunger in their bellies! I will ensure not another wife perishes in childbirth simply because there is nothing the Doctor can do because the family has no more money for him!
And for those who I may seem to neglect- those who's brilliant minds who make our District one of the most prideful of panem- I have not forgotten that you to find it hard. That you too- sometimes cannot put bread on the table, that you are worn thin by pressure- I will ensure that you are fed, paid and safe too.
I have not and will not forget anyone- if we stand together, work together, care for one another that we all have done in times of hardship then we can pride our District on something other than our namesakes- we can pride it on us. The Majority!"
And with that, the speech comes to an end and the crowd cheers. He smiles, broadly, his gaze glancing down to the cards on the podium.
To the pictures of his daughters.