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Cher Journal. François Garland . Cher Journal / Dear Journal ,
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Cher Journal François Garland
Cher Journal / Dear Journal, My name is François Garland and I have a four-year-old daughter Lacie Garland; unfortunately her mother Allison Garland died of a sickness when she was only two. It’s January 27, 1785, and well, I’m going to talk about my daughter Lacie and I. We are of third estate level of the three estates but the nobility and clergy just call us the citizens. Yet, among us “citizens” are those called the peasants. Lacie and I are peasants and life is so hard with King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette’s spending, not to mention the taxes and prices for bread! Even with all this weight, our neighbors are still hanging in, my daughter smiles and says, “Life will get better, just you wait and see!” To her reality is make-pretend and all this unfairness is just a phase she would say. “France is stronger than this! He will pull through! He won’t fail!!” For her age she is quite the wise little toddler. Anyway, while we starve and experience this famine the royals are throwing mad balls and parties with our money! I must say, this monarchy feels as if it’s cracking. After the long workdays, and you finally get home to a just about empty table with no bread you just lose all hope; you shuffle your way to your “bed” and collapse, closing your eyes as hard as possible and just listening. If you do that long enough you can see little golden flecks of light dancing before you and hear the sound of something breaking. Something is breaking. The next day, after feeding Lacie I went for a walk around when I finally noticed how much crime there was and how many people were on the streets, starving. Things need to change soon!
Cher Journal / Dear Journal, François Garland is my name and I have an eight-year-old daughter Lacie Garland; unfortunately her mother Allison Garland died of a sickness when she was only two. Its now June 13, 1789 and the Third Estate and King Louis XVI, the coward, and nobles and clergy. They have all gathered and strangely sat together to try and find a solution to the financial crisis. The Third Estate suggested that they tax by head. Yet, the other two estates said to tax by estate. After they pitched their ideas the Estates general told the king to choice and both said no the Third estate. Out raged the Third estate left the room and the king’s speech and went to the only room open, the tennis court. They all pledged that they would together get rid of the so-called king. That day they made the tennis court oath. They called themselves the National Assembly. The reasons for it quite simple, they the citizens, the ones doing all the work and paying all the taxes were pushed to their limits and out raged. They were done with the king, nobles, clergy; they were done with it all. After the word spread about the National Assembly the King, felt a dark feeling spread through out him, he felt fear. Anyway, about Lacie, she’s fine; we just ‘celebrated’ her mother’s birthday. We played around. But, at the end of the day, she asked me “When is mama coming back? I can’t remember her face, or voice anymore! Where did she go?” I just stared at her as my eyes looked down at hers. “Don’t worry, well meet her again in this shimmering summer heat haze.” She looked up to me and smiled widely saying, “Yay! I can’t wait!” Upon hearing this in the distance I could see this blur of purple and red, smiling then disappearing. How weird.
Cher Journal / Dear Journal, My name is François Garland and I have an eight-year-old daughter Lacie Garland; unfortunately her mother Allison Garland died of a sickness when she was only two. Anyway, it’s now July 14, 1789 and chatter has been flying all around. The women are out raged watching their children and beloved starve, and if I remember correctly I heard them planning for something but once they saw me they scattered. At the time I didn’t think much of it, well, my daughter and I have been booted to the streets! Paris has become more and more of a city of chaos. The king has done nothing about his debt and he continues to lowly look at the National Assembly! Anyway, onto the point of this entry, today an uprising occurred. A start to the French revolution you could say. The women, they all angry marched to Bastille, and can you believe it?! THEY GOT IN! They freed a bunch of prisoners and took weapons. But what came next is what really sacred me. They then went straight to Versailles. And they were even angrier than before; they were boiling over in rage. They killed a lot of guards and nobles and then finally approached King Louis XVI. They demanded bread from him and just like the COWARD he is and always will be he said yes. The women then put the heads of thenobles on pikes, and the two in the front carried them high above their head. They lead the king all the way back to Paris where they chopped off his head. From that day, democracy was in their reach. People cheered and cheered and, my friends and I were brought to tears, tears of joy. Yet, from what I could tell there was a man that looked to be around 20 with shoulder length blonde hair and a bit of a stubble chin. He was wearing some kind of purple outfit and red pants with a brown belt. He was crying tears of joy as well but it seemed as if he was also crying tears of sorrow. What a strange person. Even so, Lacie brought me back to my senses when she got overly hungry so I told her, “How about some bread?”
Cher Journal / Dear Journal, My name is François Garland and I have a twelve-year-old daughter Lacie Garland; unfortunately her mother Allison Garland died of a sickness when she was only two. Well, onto more current matters! Today is October 2, 1793, and Robespierre has risen from the blood of the royals. After killing the COWARD king, he also beheaded Mary Antoinette after catching her trying to escape. This feeling of total power and freedom of voice is just so thrilling, that we the Third Estate of France have decided to give the man who sparked the light for rebellion power, he is the new ruler! Days passed and Lacie and I lived in peace back in our old home; we were happy. And even happier when I heard Robespierre beheading anyone having anything, anything at all having to do with the king; Finding the corrupt became like a game of hide and death. For those who HAD power were now living in fear, they all called it the Reign of Terror. The people who were in charge of the beheading were called the Committee of Public Safety. Anyway, Robespierre rule so far is going fairly well, nothing that bad is happening compared to the ex king. Also, we are no longer JUST France; we are the Republic of France! Alright so, enough of that, so about that weird man that keeps appearing, well, I have not seen him at all yet! Its as if he never existed. I wonder if he ever did exist.
Cher Journal / Dear Journal, My name is François Garland and I have a thirteen-year-old daughter Lacie Garland; unfortunately her mother Allison Garland died of a sickness when she was only two. Its now July 28, 1794 and the Committee of Public Safety gotten rid of pretty much anything and anyone connected to the ex king. When the victims were arrested and executed the public would watch in awe. The Dictator, Robespierre, used his power and controlled the people and protected the people by using the guillotine. It was quite the human way to die compared to the horse method France use to use. The day was going all right when suddenly as Lacie and I were walking through the execution grounds we saw Robespierre walking up the steps and lying down. People started to stare and gather around that's when his old workers came up and said that his ways were becoming more and more like Louis XVI! I couldn’t believe it! One old man raised his hand, and said, “Power corrupts absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Everyone around all thought about what the old wise man had said and no one said a word, they only stayed to watch as Robs. head was chopped off. The thing he used more was his undoing. And with that the revolution came and the Reign of Terror ended with it. People no longer lived in fear and were happy that they were finally truly free.To close friends the death was hard to overcome, they weren’t able to smell of his once good intentions rot as his power and ego soared. To the ones out there like me, we feel betrayed and yet a little happy that we were able to kill yet another rotten king! Lacie pointed to me that night at dinner that the French seemed to have become more proud of being French then before! And that bread is life. We both laughed and continued to eat our dinner (which was bread and some water) and passing the time with small chitchat. After dinner when Lacie was about to retire for the night I asked her if she knew about the man in purple and red, she looked shocked as I mentioned him. She turned around to look me dead in the eye and said, “You can see him too?” I just stared at her. “I saw him crying a lot so I asked what was wrong, all he did was just say sorry over and over again. He said he was sacred of all the blood after claiming down. He said he could feel death behind him.” She paused for a moment before looking down to the ground as if it was the most interesting thing ever. “I asked what his name was once, he told me not to tell another soul, but I think I can tell you.” She looked back at me with such sharp eyes it was like looking into the eyes of a shark; dead center. “Don't tell another soul, understood?” I was shaking. There was something strange in her voice that I could not shake off, it sent shivers down my spin. “His name is France.”