The Invitation

It all started with an invitation. I found it one day, just sitting on my doorstep. It was an intricate envelope, with no name or address, just a simple black stamp. I knew immediately what it was, and my heart started racing.

I had heard rumors about this group, an underground activist group that was always one step ahead of the authorities. They were said to be responsible for some of the biggest protests in recent history, but nobody knew who they were.

I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of me and I tore open the envelope. Inside, I found a simple card with a date and time. The event was tonight, and it was secret.

I arrived at the location just as the sun was setting. It was an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. There was a lone figure in a hoodie standing at the door, and they let me in without a word.

Inside, the warehouse had been transformed. There was a stage at one end, and the walls were covered in protest art. People were milling around, chatting and laughing, and I suddenly realized that I recognized some of them.

These were people who had been on the news, people who were famous in the activist community. And yet nobody knew who they were.

The event went on into the night, and I found myself becoming more and more involved. I was passionate about the cause, and these people seemed to understand me in a way that nobody else had.

Eventually, I was asked to join the group. I hesitated for a moment, but then I realized that this was where I belonged. I was part of something bigger than myself, and I could make a difference.

Since then, I’ve been to more events and protests than I can count. We’ve taken on the establishment, and we’re winning. And nobody even knows who we are.