Them.

The Government, all four people, stood tall and in pure black with their hands behind their backs. Each emotionless face held secrets within the high cheekbones. Lies boiled cruelly on their thin, colorless lips. I stared across the Town Square at them, over the heads of nearly a hundred people. Hatred built up high as I was prodded in the back by one of the guards. I stumbled forward, breaking the bond of two people holding hands. Muttering my sincere apologies, I kept walking forward, now seeing why I was poked. I ambled through the parting crowd with utterly no emotions on my face; I wouldn't let them have the satisfaction of seeing me afraid as I went to meet my death. Glancing over at them as I stomped up the steps of the wooden porch, I met the stare of four sets of black eyes. Someone gripped my hands and pulled me forward, slinging a noose around my thin neck.

Author's Note

Just something that came out of our writing workshop.