This man was one of the many victims of the violence that plagued his time. Living during the French Revolution, Pierre; that was his name, was subject to many of the terrible events that took place. He, like many other people of that time, had seen the aftermath of the riots in town. He had even witnessed more than one public execution in his time, but never had he thought that he would end up dead like those beheaded in town.
Pierre was a writer, and a very good one at that. He had the opportunity to receive some education and he took that prospect graciously. He had taken the knowledge he had gained and used it to become an author. He loved to write and he poured his heart and soul into all of his work. On a smaller scale, Pierre could be considered a great mind.
Like any great mind, he had his quirks. In Pierre�s case, it was that he always enjoyed writing in his bathtub. No one was really sure why, but perhaps it was that the setting inspired him. It was here that he was found dead. Now why would anyone kill and author in his bathtub? It was obvious that he was murdered because of the stab wounds found on his chest and the paper still in his hand, but what had Pierre done to deserve death?
In reality, it was self expression that killed Pierre. One day he sat down in his tub and he wrote a letter to his dear friend Jean expressing his sadness over the current situation in France. He had said, �Nothing is wrong with change, even revolution, my friend, but there comes a time when we must look at the line between reason and reform and foolishness and chaos, to see if we come too near to crossing it. I fear that line has been crossed and in our greatest hopes for reform we have unleashed a monster that shall destroy us all and take France down with it.�
Opinions were something to watch in this time, for if someone who disagreed with your opinion heard what you had to say, you put your life on the line. Through a seemingly innocent letter, Pierre had actually signed a letter that would be his doom. His friend Jean had seen his letter as mocking the idea of revolution. In the late evening Jean had come into Pierre�s home and killed him whilst he wrote in his favorite place, as he wrote of his dreams of the future and of France�s glorious prosperity that would last for many years to come.
Pierre was no one special, no one overly important. He had no cause other than his love for writing; he was no martyr, and no revolutionary. He was a victim of the violence and hatred brought about by the change of revolution.
