User blog:Kat2wind2archer/Respect

"Today passes the eighty-first anniversary since the day Jamaa became free."

A older Jammer, white cloth draped over their shoulders spoke, his face settled on the text before him.

"As a sign of respect, we'll be placing flowers upon the statue that stands in memory of those who died for Jamaa to be free."

The jammer continues reading the words, not taking his eyes of the paper. He has to read the words in order to say them.

"We please the Leader of Jamaa- Zios, to put down his flowers."

A large figure, wearing a simple suit and a few roses walks up to the statue of a blue bird, putting them down. The statue which represents those who gave up their life to keep their lands free. Those who lived in misery.

He walks back.

"We please the second in command- Mira to put down her flowers."

A larger woman, in a dress hanging to her knees walks up, places a bundle of flowers.

A Daisy, a Rose, a Daffodile.

She walks away.

"We please the higher's secretary- Liza, to put down her flowers."

A woman, a bit of weight, in a simple black suit and comfortable jeans walks up, placing a similar bouquet to the one before her.

A Daisy, a Rose, a Daffodile.

She walks away.

"Now we please for those of the old hidden army to put their flowers down."

Three older Jammers walked up slowly. One, of old age using a cane, yet walking up with a whole crown, a large bouquet of flowers. The second, slightly tripping over himself, yet determind to get to the memorial of his brothers, his sisters, the ones he's fought alongside. The last so week, his daughter, who two, old of age helped him get to the statue, held a million white and red roses.

All wore the suits representing what they have done; all wore blue armor, a single symbol- the symbol of Jamaa patched into the suits. True honor stood upon their shoulders. They held the freedom, the faith, the determination most jammers lacked these days. They were the ones who have fought for Jamaa's freedom- and lived to see it. Now, they're trying to show the ones who didn't make it, that it was all worth it. That Jamaa made it. That they were free.

"Now, we please two woman who survived the phantom factory to place their flowers."

Two women, both of black hair that stayed up in a neat bun, long black dresses covering them. In their arms they held more flowers then they could.

For the ones who lived in the dark, the ones who never lost hope for the light, yet didn't live to see it, deserved more flowers then the world could hold.

The jammers, all crowded around the central, taking seats on benches, ready to listen and give thanks to those who aren't with them anymore.

Yet, before the older wolf starts thanking, the Leader, the second in command and secretary move into the front seats. Nobody besides them; three single chairs before all the others. The warriors, those of older age, sitting behind them.

The women; one, by some miracle fit in the benches in the middle.

The second, thought, stood to the side, for all the seats were taken.

Eventually, one of the penguins, stood up, and gave up their seat for the woman.

The older jammer of white robes finally started telling he story, started thanking.

Who, tell me who, should we respect?

Those, who fought for their lands, those who fought for the freedom of others? Those, who didn't dare speak a word to the enemy, even if they didn't have a arm the next day? Those who's death's were simply because they decided Jamaa needed heros? Isn't it sad, that many people helped keep everyone safe. Freed everyone- and yet we'll only be able to list a couple of their names?

Those, who lived blind; didn't know if it was even worth it, yet still fought?

Or respect those, of higher titles? Respect those of wealthy families, who built buildings of stone? Who carefully watch over, yet do only that?

Next time, be the respectful one, get out of your seat, and give it to the woman who you're thankful for what you have now. That's the least you can do.

I know this was probably a bit weird, really, but listen me out-

This actually happened, I just switched up all the characters and places.

And names; everything.

But the same situation still stands, and it just pissed me of a bit. (maybe a lot)

It's worth thinking about it. It might teach you something in the future.

(I'm not talking about being disrespectful to those of higher titles; simply, those who actually deserve the respect should, in fact, be respected. Not like whatever happened in this story.)

So yeah~

Have a g' day nonthless