Chantelle Lee GEORGE II BASED ON HENRY V

THERE ARE ALWAYS PROTESTERS.

Even through the thick, bulletproof windows of the limousine, I can hear them. I never did before, but today I do, as clearly as a whisper in my ear.

“If you really want us to go to war, then you should be the one to fight!” one girl shouts, sitting on the shoulders of a burly man. “Let the blood of our brothers and fathers be on your hands!”

I close my eyes and, pretending that she can hear me, mutter what has become my mantra, “His cause being just and his quarrel honorable…”

I love this office. Great men have sat here, and many more have desired to sit here. Now, it is my domain. Now I am the Great Man. The other great men before me have sent many men to their deaths. Why couldn’t I? Wait, am I really sending them to their deaths? After all, if a father sends his son to a corner store to fetch a jug of milk, and the son is struck by a car, is the father to be blamed for the accident? Hell no! It is the son’s carelessness that is at fault. I am sending our young men to bring justice and order to this world, not to die. In this endeavor, if the soldiers should meet their untimely end, it is their mishap which fells them, not my declaration of war. How could it ever be the Great Man’s fault?

Once again, I am overcome by all of the obstacles that have suddenly sprung up in my path that are now my responsibility. Responsibility. I’ve never liked that word. I hate the whole image that word conjures up in my mind. I always try to run from it. But being born to the greatness of him cut off all of my escape routes. But I never wanted to be like him. I just wanted a life of an ordinary man. But no, that was not acceptable to him. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, and I could never truly be happy being like him. I never thought I could handle the responsibility that comes with this position, but he worked me harder than I’ve ever worked before to get me to where I am now.

So here I am, once again, leading this country to war. I bet he’s immensely proud of me now. Every day I have to pray to God that I won’t spend an eternity suffering in Hell because I’m sending my country to war yet again.

My mind continues to drift back to what that girl said on the street, and in all honesty, I don’t understand how I am responsible for the spilling of their blood. I’m not responsible for making sure that every individual soldier comes back home safely. My goal is not to keep all of our soldiers alive – it’s to win this war.

Damn that girl. Damn him. Damn them all.

I don’t care what they say. Who are they to question me? I’m the goddamn commander-in-chief, and if it’s anyone’s right to send our army to war, it’s mine. Really, these people should be on their knees thanking me! I’m going to finish off the job that he never could. I’ll be remembered as the hero that he never was. My name will go down in history for this deed – books will be written about how heroic I was, how even though everyone was against me, I overcame all the obstacles and stood out amongst the rest. I will be the most famous Commander in Chief there ever was. From this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remember’d.

I’ll forever be known as the Warrior President.

“Mr. President, they’re ready for your announcement.”