Easter Rising

A short historical piece based on the Pearse brothers who met their deaths at the end of the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin. Written as a piece included in my masters portfolio.

     Silence filled the courtyard of Kilmainham gaol. Blood splattered in a neat line across the back wall, a chilling reminder of the fate that beckoned the leaders of the rising as they waited in their cells. The men who fought for freedom were awash with a delicate calm; knowing that they were giving their lives for what they believed in.

William Pearse's head throbbed and bones ached as he listened to the scratching of his brother's pen through the small grate above their heads. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and burned painfully through his sinuses. He ran a tongue across his lips, wincing as his saliva met the chapped and sore skin. His throat was dry and his belly rumbled; his thoughts floating back to his mother's kitchen. Roast lamb, potatoes, and red wine; his mother always knew how to make them happy �" keep them content.

“You'll be home soon.” Patrick's voice echoed through the grate; his tone was resigned, but William heard the sadness behind the words. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.” William's voice was scratchy and tickled his throat. He lay his hand against the wall, fingers splaying out against the frigid stone, reaching for his sibling through the barrier.

“Look after them.” the plea was almost a whisper; the ghost of a sound. “They should not suffer. My sacrifice is hard; but it is for the good of the people. A task which God has set for me and I am willing to pay the price. Every man should be afforded the freedom he deserves.”

“Nothing is secure.” William murmured, his voice sounded deflated. His hand dropped away from the wall in defeat, bloodied finger tips knotting themselves into the ragged blanket that served his prison bed.

“No. Nothing ever is. But the road to independence is long, and hard won.”