The Prince of Uganda part 1
This is a story I am starting this summer. Please give constructive criticism and if you would like me to continue then tell me.
I sat in the carriage looking outside the window, witnessing the chaos outside. Black men wearing matching camouflage printed pants. They also wore black knee high boots and red berets. They all held AK-47s and stood with their back to the carriage and the crowd screaming Africans. Through the cart I could hear chants like , "Death to the king" and "Down with the royal family." I knew the village loathed us. Every time we went into the village a crowd like this would gather. Once there was a time when a couple of villagers threw rocks at my head. However, My dad had them executed the next day. But this crowd today was bigger and much more violent. They wanted blood. They hated us because our country was in turmoil and my father did nothing to help. he just continued to make his money and watch as the villagers stayed poor. I continued to watch and I saw children my age with ribs showing and their stomachs enlarged by hunger. They were much skinnier than I was and that made me feel ashamed.
A disgusting feeling in my gut settled to the bottom of my stomach as i felt the guilt of who I was. Because of my father my world was not a reality. There were no problems. As opposed to those boys I watched I had never missed a meal. I had never felt hardship or suffering. It wasn't fair that I was above them socially. It wasn't something I could control but still I hated myself because of it.
"Son stop looking through the window, you don't need to waste your time watching those in grateful eyesores." His deep voice and harsh tone were like sharp knives cutting through the air inside the carriage. I responded to his command with rebellion in my voice.
"That is why they hate you isn't it? You don't care about them. You sit there fat and rich and you view them as eyesores. Those eyesores are dying of hunger because of your selfishness." My dad ground his teeth. He was a very dark man. His skin was the color of night with a blue gleam and his temper was like his sword able to be drawn quickly. Gritting his teeth was his signature sign of anger. Had I not been his only son he would have cut my head off. But before his temper rose even more my mother being the peace maker softly pressed her hand on his shoulder. She whispered to both of us through her thick blood red lips.
"Akimbe don't antagonize your father. He tries the best he can," She said it so elegantly and Queen like, just like her title, but her eyes, highlighted with purple eye shadow, warned me that it was wise not to get him angry especially now. I sat in silence for the rest of the carriage ride. During this time of silence I recollected the times when I was more naive. I always asked my father why our people hated us so and he just responded with the usual your too young to understanding. Today I found the answer. It was because my dad thought he was better than everyone. Finally we arrived at our castle.
A servant wearing a tuxedo opened the door and we walked out. I walked ahead of my parents so that I could avoid talking to them. I walked into our castle. I was inside of a main circular room with marble floors and columns in a semi circle to support the second floor. I turned to the right to see a long hallway with doors on each side. I walked down to the single door at the end of the hallway. It was a white door with a single gold knob. I turned the knob that lead me into my large room. I fell into my king sized bed. I reached on top of my night stand and grabbed my book.
It was a story about a teenage boy who had lost his parents in a car accident and had no relatives to raise him. So he raises himself by his own rules and surviving by any means necessary. It gave me insight on terrible problems that I would never face but it made me sympathize the citizens in my village.
After an hour of reading I decided it was time to eat something. while I was walking down to the kitchen I saw that one of the doors in the hallway was left ajar. It was the door to dads study. This was unusual so I backed up to the wall and peeked inside the room. My dad was sitting down in his chair talking with our butler Winston.
"Winston have you come to kill me?"
"Sir how did you know?"
"I had seen this coming. The crowds were getting worse and the staff were having unscheduled meetings. But I didn't run would you like to know why, Winston?"
"Winston, it's because I've been a terrible king and it was inevitable that you would all rise up and overthrow me. But Secretly I hoped you would wait a while till my son could be king because he cares about you all and I know that he could change this country."
"You know we cant' wait. This can't wait. This is bigger than you me or even your son. We here are all starving and you've forced a war that I'm not sure we have the money or the man power to fight. Before you hand over the throne their will be no more Uganda to rule."
"You've been a great servant, Winston" Then Winston reached for his pistol and shot my father right between the eyes where he stood. The bullet was deafening and I screamed at the sight of losing my father. Winston turned his head to see me at the gap of the door with my mouth wide open in shock.
"Dammit I shouldn't have left the door open. Akimbe I didn't mean for you to see that" He said as he hid the gun. I knew he was going to kill me to so I ran out the door and made way to my mothers room to warn her. I opened the door to her room and saw her on her bed bleeding through a knife wound at her stomach. She was still alive and she could see me.
"Akimbe the rebels will be here soon to take the house. You need to run. Run!"