The Worst Thing We Can Do Is Nothing (Twisted History)

I sit in the back of the beer hall, writing down as much as I could – shorthand was never my strong suit. He speaks so fast and often his words are lost in the noise of over two hundred men jumping to their feet to applaud him. I cannot blame them. He is so charismatic, and unafraid to speak aloud their secret thoughts. I am tasked with reporting his fanatical speeches, but they sicken me.

I fear for my country. I am afraid of what this… small man, with the big ideas will do, what he will turn us into. He is promising us freedom. He is promising to lift us out of poverty and make our nation great.

At what cost? I read his speeches over and over. I find them to be filled with hatred. This vitriol is shaping the minds of our youth. Something must be done. He must be stopped. Will no one be a voice of dissent? Will no one oppose him before it is too late?

I look around at the men, at their glazed, adoring eyes staring at him. No one looks at me as I rise from my seat and aim my gun…

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