Power

Jackson had won the elections. He was now the most powerful man in the country.

His political career had been astonishing, and his light and easy relationship to laws had paid off good. He used to be quite a idealist, he thought. He used to believe everyone should be happy. Lately over the years he had changed, he now felt there was a reason why he was rich and others poor. They sucked, he rocked. He hated the poor and the weak. They were disgusting.

He started his presidency good. It was a new life! Everyone wanted to talk to him, and people did what he said in a new way. He got used to it. Soon he became the most powerful president ever. He owned most of the media, and a big share of everything else, and he changed some laws to make things easier.

Power gave him a good feeling. He felt big. He even looked bigger. One day he realized he was bigger. He was taller. Wider. Heavier. His charisma reached new levels. People did whatever he said. Whatever. He felt good. Lots and lots of power. Lots and lots of pleasure.

His skin started stretching. It was even getting annoying.

I’m worried about you, his wife said one day. You look strange.

He laughed. I feel better than ever!

When he woke up the next day his skin had a huge rift in his back. It was itching. He started scratching. His skin pealed off like the skin of an orange. All of it. He looked in the mirror. He saw a monster. His skin was pinkish, ugly. His flesh was bulging out in a strange way, like an over-strapped meat loaf. Still, he felt good. He went to office. People looked at him strangely, but no one said anything. He called his closest counsellors and secretaries for a meeting.

What do we do? Asked Minister Maple. The people can’t see you like this. You look like a monster!

The others agreed, he was really not representative for the government. Jackson didn’t.

I’m  stronger than ever! He said, and explained to them how this would show people who’s really in charge. They just had to do the right marketing.

We need to use this new situation, he said. People needed to see that their president was more than human.

I’m the strongest president ever!

He convinced them all. It was like people could not say against him. Like if he had some kind of rhetoric superpower. They started putting up posters everywhere. They made a campaign on how their president had changed for the people. Vote for a president with power! was the slogan. He won again.

How stupid people are! He thought one night he went to sleep. They bought anything if it was sold the right way. People had a lot less rights than four years ago, and still they voted for him. The economy were going quite bad for anyone that wasn’t already ridiculously rich, and he were accused of several corruption issues. He even looked like a monster! People didn’t seem to care.

But lots of people were unsatisfied as well. They had no rights. No jobs. No money. There were riots in the streets, protests on the internet. The protests got stronger, the protesters more. He had taken away all their civil rights to protect the people against terror, but people seemed to have gotten the scam. Mani-festers were invading public buildings. The police seemed to be doing nothing more than beat the crap out of them, tied by laws he had to change as soon as possible. He was loosing control.

If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself! He thought and went out in the streets for the first time in a long time, escorted by police and security forces. There was a demonstration down town. Windows had been broken, cars lit on fire.

He could see the fear in peoples eyes when he arrived. He was big now, big as a truck. He had tentacles and fangs. Riot police surrounding him as he pushed into the crowd. He threw people around. Some he ate. He liked it. Power. People fled as he grew bigger and bigger. The police did as he said. He was the president. He was in power.

Some demonstrators were throwing rocks, but it wasn’t doing him anything. He laughed. Muahahaha!!! Die, minions! He shouted. Die!!! The excitement became unbearable. He felt pain in what would have been his chest if he still had one. It was hard to breath. He grabbed a policeman. Help! He managed to say. Help m..! He fell to the ground.

A medic! Shouted Officer Johnson. We need a medic! But there was no medic around. Just lots of protesters. They were surrounded. Johnson was overpowered by people. They took away his shield and weapons. The others also lost control.

The president is dead! Shouted people. The president is dead! People ran out in the streets. They entered town halls. The police no longer fought them. The presidential offices were taken over. The government was overthrown. It was over.

There would be no more presidents. Presidents were too dangerous.

https://littleweestories.wordpress.com/2016/05/31/end-of-an-age/

https://fallingintoincandescence.com/2016/12/02/trumping-fear-safety-resistance/

The Witch Doctor