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End London Rule (Chapter One)
End London Rule: Chapter One
(A wee project I started working on)
Edinburgh was in party mood. There was a buzz around the city not even matched during the Fringe festival held annually during the Summer. Holyrood Park was the place to be. A sea of Saltire flags blew in the breeze. It felt as though the entire population of Scotland had turned up to celebrate this historic moment. Well, the side of the population that supported Scottish independence at least. Public transport had been mobbed. Hotels packed. People had travelled from far and wide. Some from as far South as Lockerbie, others from as far North as Orkney and Shetland. Others had flocked from everywhere else in between. Privately hired coaches lined the road through the park. Everybody wanted to be here.
Even the First Minister had made a guest appearance, and danced the Macarana. Much to the delight of the onlooking crowd. Music continued to blare through huge speakers strategically placed around the area. Important figures in the Scottish independence movement poised to deliver their speeches. In just a couple of hours Scotland would know. Scotland would be free. Three hundred years of Union oppression would be over. Scotland, no longer an unequal member of the United Kingdom. Instead a free country that would finally be able to reverse the centuries of poverty and hardship bestowed on it. The people here today could hardly wait. They'd waited a long time for this, and worked incredibly hard to achieve what was coming. This was Scotland's moment.
It hadn't all been plain sailing though. An onslaught of UK Government propaganda via the media, had almost derailed the whole dream. Almost. Every day a new doom story.
"The oil is running out."
"Pensions will suffer."
"Scotland is just too poor."
"Scotland will not survive without UK funding."
"There'll be no jobs."
"Independence is the end of the world."
Well maybe not that last one, but you get the idea. The only thing the media chose not to print was that every other nation within Great Britain was suffering the same plight as Scotland. Purposely delivered by the Westminster Government in London. It had been the same way for centuries. Keep the people poor and fighting for scraps. Fortunately for Scotland, there was an opportunity to break the mould, and the people had taken to the idea. A huge majority of 62% to 38% had so far been counted as having voted for change. To break the status quo. To free Scotland from the shackles of UK driven austerity and hardship. To gain their place in the world as free people, not just the collateral of a country being systematically stripped of its assets by the country next door.
So the people were in party mode. Well except that 38% of course. Unionists as they're known. Completely devoted to the crown of the Royal family, and the red, white and blue of the Union flag. Or the 'Butchers Apron' as many people in Scotland referred to it. A symbol of invasion, murder, pillaging and hardship. The epitome of the British Empire. A symbol that a majority of people in Scotland no longer wanted to be attached to. Just those Unionists.
For weeks leading up to the referendum they'd caused trouble. Social media campaigns to try and prevent said referendum from even happening. Equally, a team of Unionist delegates had met with members of the UK Government to try and influence the result of the referendum being declared null and void, if it didn't go their way. Unfortunately for the Unionists, Westminster had maintained throughout the process they would honour the result. However as it grew more likely that the referendum result would go against them, they'd been less and less vocal about supporting the result.
As far as the Unionists were concerned, desperate times called for desperate measures. There had been huge protests in Glasgow and Aberdeen that had unfortunately turned violent, almost descending into riots. Blockades on the A1 and the M74 had been put in place, to try and prevent vital supplies from reaching Scottish supermarkets. These were quickly dispersed by Police Scotland, so life quickly went on as normal. The support for Scottish independence continued to grow.
Today the Unionists hadn't even bothered to turn up. Not even the usual suspects who had over the last few years appeared at every pro-independence march, trying to drum up support against the rise in Scottish nationalism, and the desire to, "End London Rule," for good. A tiny number of Union flag waving people, in comparison to the thousands upon thousands that turned up to wave Saltire flags, chant for independence, and generally spread their hope and happiness. It had been the same at every event. Maybe today the Unionists were conceding defeat. Maybe they had finally realised that their fight against the inevitable was a busted flush. As results had been trickling in throughout the night, it had become clear that Scottish independence was indeed coming. Every called result a clearer indication of this fact. The United Kingdom in its present form would cease to exist.
Today the sun was shining. The feel good factor had reached fever pitch. In just a couple of hours, live on the centre stage, Holyrood Park and the hundreds of thousands gathered inside it would hear the final result. Scotland would be free. A prominent figure from within the SNP Government had just stepped onto the stage to deliver a speech on the future for Scotland. People pushed forward to listen. A chant broke spontaneously out amongst the crowd. The exact same chant that had been relayed at independence marches all across the country. The chant of the entire movement.
"What do we want?"
"Independence!"
"When do we want it?"
"Now!"
People clapped and cheered. Air horns activated. A rendition of Flower Of Scotland broke out. A song that when sung by thousands of people at the exact same time, was guaranteed to provide you with goosebumps. The SNP figurehead put his lips to the microphone. Ready to address the crowd. To deliver his carefully selected words of inspiration, desire, and hope.
"Hello!"
The crowd cheered again.
Just then there was a huge flash of light, followed by an enormous bang. The ground of Holyrood Park shook. People screamed. Bodies fell. People hit the ground, in both shock, and pain, as smoke engulfed the whole area. Beyond the screams a deathly silence. People tried to stand. Choking on the smoke and debris. Trying to make heed of the situation. Bodies still lay scattered on the ground. What had happened? Had there been an explosion? An electrical fault maybe. A bomb?
Had somebody sabotaged Scotland's day of glory?
© Ashley (urb4npo3t)
(A wee project I started working on)
Edinburgh was in party mood. There was a buzz around the city not even matched during the Fringe festival held annually during the Summer. Holyrood Park was the place to be. A sea of Saltire flags blew in the breeze. It felt as though the entire population of Scotland had turned up to celebrate this historic moment. Well, the side of the population that supported Scottish independence at least. Public transport had been mobbed. Hotels packed. People had travelled from far and wide. Some from as far South as Lockerbie, others from as far North as Orkney and Shetland. Others had flocked from everywhere else in between. Privately hired coaches lined the road through the park. Everybody wanted to be here.
Even the First Minister had made a guest appearance, and danced the Macarana. Much to the delight of the onlooking crowd. Music continued to blare through huge speakers strategically placed around the area. Important figures in the Scottish independence movement poised to deliver their speeches. In just a couple of hours Scotland would know. Scotland would be free. Three hundred years of Union oppression would be over. Scotland, no longer an unequal member of the United Kingdom. Instead a free country that would finally be able to reverse the centuries of poverty and hardship bestowed on it. The people here today could hardly wait. They'd waited a long time for this, and worked incredibly hard to achieve what was coming. This was Scotland's moment.
It hadn't all been plain sailing though. An onslaught of UK Government propaganda via the media, had almost derailed the whole dream. Almost. Every day a new doom story.
"The oil is running out."
"Pensions will suffer."
"Scotland is just too poor."
"Scotland will not survive without UK funding."
"There'll be no jobs."
"Independence is the end of the world."
Well maybe not that last one, but you get the idea. The only thing the media chose not to print was that every other nation within Great Britain was suffering the same plight as Scotland. Purposely delivered by the Westminster Government in London. It had been the same way for centuries. Keep the people poor and fighting for scraps. Fortunately for Scotland, there was an opportunity to break the mould, and the people had taken to the idea. A huge majority of 62% to 38% had so far been counted as having voted for change. To break the status quo. To free Scotland from the shackles of UK driven austerity and hardship. To gain their place in the world as free people, not just the collateral of a country being systematically stripped of its assets by the country next door.
So the people were in party mode. Well except that 38% of course. Unionists as they're known. Completely devoted to the crown of the Royal family, and the red, white and blue of the Union flag. Or the 'Butchers Apron' as many people in Scotland referred to it. A symbol of invasion, murder, pillaging and hardship. The epitome of the British Empire. A symbol that a majority of people in Scotland no longer wanted to be attached to. Just those Unionists.
For weeks leading up to the referendum they'd caused trouble. Social media campaigns to try and prevent said referendum from even happening. Equally, a team of Unionist delegates had met with members of the UK Government to try and influence the result of the referendum being declared null and void, if it didn't go their way. Unfortunately for the Unionists, Westminster had maintained throughout the process they would honour the result. However as it grew more likely that the referendum result would go against them, they'd been less and less vocal about supporting the result.
As far as the Unionists were concerned, desperate times called for desperate measures. There had been huge protests in Glasgow and Aberdeen that had unfortunately turned violent, almost descending into riots. Blockades on the A1 and the M74 had been put in place, to try and prevent vital supplies from reaching Scottish supermarkets. These were quickly dispersed by Police Scotland, so life quickly went on as normal. The support for Scottish independence continued to grow.
Today the Unionists hadn't even bothered to turn up. Not even the usual suspects who had over the last few years appeared at every pro-independence march, trying to drum up support against the rise in Scottish nationalism, and the desire to, "End London Rule," for good. A tiny number of Union flag waving people, in comparison to the thousands upon thousands that turned up to wave Saltire flags, chant for independence, and generally spread their hope and happiness. It had been the same at every event. Maybe today the Unionists were conceding defeat. Maybe they had finally realised that their fight against the inevitable was a busted flush. As results had been trickling in throughout the night, it had become clear that Scottish independence was indeed coming. Every called result a clearer indication of this fact. The United Kingdom in its present form would cease to exist.
Today the sun was shining. The feel good factor had reached fever pitch. In just a couple of hours, live on the centre stage, Holyrood Park and the hundreds of thousands gathered inside it would hear the final result. Scotland would be free. A prominent figure from within the SNP Government had just stepped onto the stage to deliver a speech on the future for Scotland. People pushed forward to listen. A chant broke spontaneously out amongst the crowd. The exact same chant that had been relayed at independence marches all across the country. The chant of the entire movement.
"What do we want?"
"Independence!"
"When do we want it?"
"Now!"
People clapped and cheered. Air horns activated. A rendition of Flower Of Scotland broke out. A song that when sung by thousands of people at the exact same time, was guaranteed to provide you with goosebumps. The SNP figurehead put his lips to the microphone. Ready to address the crowd. To deliver his carefully selected words of inspiration, desire, and hope.
"Hello!"
The crowd cheered again.
Just then there was a huge flash of light, followed by an enormous bang. The ground of Holyrood Park shook. People screamed. Bodies fell. People hit the ground, in both shock, and pain, as smoke engulfed the whole area. Beyond the screams a deathly silence. People tried to stand. Choking on the smoke and debris. Trying to make heed of the situation. Bodies still lay scattered on the ground. What had happened? Had there been an explosion? An electrical fault maybe. A bomb?
Had somebody sabotaged Scotland's day of glory?
© Ashley (urb4npo3t)
