(AIASP) The Politician

The day began at 6 a.m., as it does each day, with the alarm clock pounding…pounding like a headache that lacked the use of Excedrin. I wake to find my coffee brewed and hot, just the way I like it. I continue my daily morning routine anticipating this day to be just like any other. Typical routine, I later come to find, is not the case for today.
I step out of my Manhattan apartment to find the City in utter shambles. Cars burning, buildings toppled, bodies everywhere, none of which appear to be moving. In fact, there is just a sense of death all around. Absolutely nothing moving. Not even the wind. I head up the street to the subway entrance to make my way to the office. As I approach the tunnel entrance, there is nothing but thick, black, ominous smoke pouring from the concrete opening. It appears that I will be walking the remainder of the way. Maybe I will be able to figure out what happened if I can check things out along the way. As I continued down the street, I recalled an erroneous email that I received claiming someone had blueprints to the subway system and they intended to share them with people who may not just use them to do routine maintenance. There are so many bogus emails out there, how could I take that seriously. Maybe I should have forwarded that one to the proper authorities. But they would have just tossed it aside I am sure. As we all know, we are all safe from another attack. That is why we are fighting the war.
I proceed to the next major intersection where the security cameras that were recently added to the City Security Network have been severely damaged. It is almost as if someone was outraged at the invasion of privacy and took their anger out on the machines. Nothing but burnt and melted wires remained. As I crossed the street I was approaching the New York Presbyterian Hospital. I decided to have a look inside to see if anyone maybe alive. What I found was bone chilling.
As I entered through the police taped ER doors, there was nothing but dead bodies strewn across every square inch of the emergency department. I made my way past the sign in desk to find a torn down sign that read “This hospital has been closed due to government decision and lack of funding.” Further investigation of some of the rooms in the ER revealed very low supply counts. I had gathered that the hospital was trying to remain open and see patients with whatever means they had left. Apparently it didn’t last long. Maybe I should have looked at that petition about funding health care facilities a bit sooner. But there were other things more important on the table. What could I have done?
I leave the hospital and continue my walk. I come upon school number 53. Naturally, I have to look inside.
I walk through the once bustling playground and make my way to the main entrance. I was afraid at what I might find. As I suspected, what I found was grim and gruesome. Bodies of young children lay across their desks and on the floor. I stop to check and see if one may be alive. As I bend down to check the pulse of this young man, I see his backpack is unzipped. I empty the contents onto the floor which is covered in his dried blood. I find amidst the contents multiple bags of illegal drugs and a 9mm handgun. Loaded. I walk a bit down the hall to check another body. Again, I see some narcotics and another weapon next to this young man. I began to cry. How could I have ignored the letters from the school officials stating the current influx of drugs and weapons in their schools? How serious could it be though? I briefly attempted to bring it to the attention of the authorities but we do not have the money to pay for officers in school or measures to control weapons entering schools. We had to cut education programs so how could we afford to increase security?
Wiping my blood stained hands and tears on my pants, I make my way to my office. I can only imagine what I might find. As I go through the normal bustling security checkpoints, I walk through unimpeded. The security guards were nowhere to be found. As I have seen at the other locations, it was no different here. Bodies on the floor. None with any hint of life. Why am I here being the only one alive? I have yet to figure this out. I make my way to the elevator and push the button for the 23rd floor. Arriving at my destination, I was surprised to find my office intact. Nothing burned or out of place. How could this happen? I sit down at my desk and replay everything that I have just seen and experienced. I had a sinking feeling in my gut. I began to wish I had taken the previous preventative measures with more consideration.
The email, the petitions, the concerned letters were all signs. Why didn’t I see that? I guess that is the way politicians think. We are bred to do what is best for us, not everyone else. No matter who gets hurt in the process. As I spun my chair to look out the window and get a view of the remainder of the city, I see a message written in what appears to be blood. It reads:
“YOU HAD THE POWER TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE AND YOU CHOSE THE WRONG PATH…..YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED….WELCOME TO YOUR HELL!!”

Touche. Point well taken.

Excellent.

Waiting with bated breath for an equally fine short story from you.

Flagged and Starred.

Dizzie

reply to post by dizziedame


Thanks dizzie. Greatly appreciated. I am a rookie writer that is exploring my thoughts. Hopefully I can come up with more.