Franklin Richards I PSI

He had observed how humanity had learned to be silent, he had seen how people with a voice were told not to use it, how anyone who had something taken away from them was told it was their own fault. Questions were considered annoying, feelings were considered weakness, and anyone who wanted more was told to shut the fuck up. People held back their thoughts, their hopes as well, even what made them feel alive was swallowed down. Conforming was safer than being honest, obedience was easier than confrontation, and he knew he had been no different. He had tried long enough not to stand out, had muted his own reactions, and pretended that none of it bothered him. But the moment he felt that crack inside himself,that admission that he didn't fit the mold, the silence was no longer sustainable. It broke, and he could pretend all he wanted, but he couldn't ignore it anymore.

Now it was up to him, he had to make a decision. Remain silent, as was expected of him,continue to pretend that nothing had changed, or stop making himself smaller just because it was more convenient for everyone else. He knew that some people refused to remain silent. They didn't hide who they were, what had been done to them, how wrong the world felt, they made themselves heard, louder than before. As long as he was alive, as long as he felt something, as long as there was still something left in him, he had a choice.