For context: Margret is the wife of Ethan the Traitor, a man who through luck and chance wound up on the side of an invasion fleet of aliens from another galaxy. Because of his treachery, he was allowed to take some land for his own, or rather for Margret. As the Invaders give the land to the women while the men run it, it’s being left to Margret to receive all boons from the labor of the humans in her hold. And she doesn’t like it one bit.
He has made a liar of me.
That snolly goster of a human being.
How could he include me in his treachery.
Once I could hold my head up to my fellow people, tell them I was no part of this, I was innocent of any wrong-doing. I could hold my head up proudly, boldly playing the role of hostage, beholden to the people only, as I play the unwilling host to these invaders from the stars. I am both host and prisoner, keeper and kept. The people saw this, and would nod to me, a shared expression of being still a part of them, of duty forced on me, and servitude forced on them.
Then he made me the Dame of our district. The owner of all things and all people. By declaring me thus, he has made me complicit in his treason. How could he?!
Now that the title of Dame has been placed on me, now that I’ve been given domain of the land and the people therein, now that I hold sway over their futures, how can I still be one of them? This title came with all the pomp of a coronation. My duties are laid out before me, and before them. With his word, I am no longer one of them. I have been placed on a pedestal the likes that no one can view me, let alone speak to me. They toil for me and the empire. They have been put to work by the Invaders, with my spouse leading the charge. As for me, I have become the figurehead that will reside in a mansion specially built for me. I will enjoy the largess that comes with my position while the people, the humans, are used as draught animals. I will live above all worries while they trudge through the dirt.
And my husband? He will lead the subjugation, willingly and thoroughly. It was he that placed me on so high a pedestal. It was he that turned his back on humanity. And it is he that I loath the most. I will retire to my new home, pompous as a queen, because of him. I will take possession of all I survey because of him. And worst of all, I will set myself apart from all of humanity, because of him.
How dare he!
To be fair, I had hopes to be in a position of haughtiness. I put my faith in Ethan, for he had dreams of greatness. He was smart and able, a head for business, and the looks of a charmer. I loved him so, and awaited with patience for his plans to bear fruit. Then I would be the envy of others, who would wish to be so lucky as to have a man like him.
But not this way. Not with mankind reduced to the level of cattle. And not with her holding the reins. This is my shame, and I feel the heavy weight of it on my shoulders.
Perhaps I will go mad with this unwanted power. Perhaps my anger will allow me the courage to find solace in a blade plunged deep inside me. Perhaps this is a dream, rather a nightmare that waits for me to awaken.
Perhaps.
Perhaps I shall find a way to make it all go away. Perhaps. But first, I wish to bath in my anger, relish it, let it fill me to the brim. It is all that I’m allowed, it is mine to churn, to flesh out and turn and flip inside me. The answers to this dilemma will have to wait. I need to feed this anger for a time. Perhaps find a blade to sink into his flesh.
Arid Testimony 