It was over relatively quickly. I won't say painlessly, because we all suffered. We all lost someone. Our parents, our grandparents, uncles, aunts.
Someone we loved. By the same token though, we learned very quickly to play The Game. That's what we called it, The Game.
First, it was what seemed like ludicrous things. Being afraid to speak aloud to neighbours or friends at the grocery or at work. Conversations were
reduced to whispers out of fears of who may overhear. You never knew who would turn you in, and you had to prove yourself in one way or another to
become a Trusted. Once you were a Trsuted, there was no more fear of honesty between us, and we spoke freely. Never once had a Trusted turned on
At first, people disappeared quietly. Sometimes, no one noticed. If they did, they stayed silent from either shame or fear. Then it was becoming more
obvious. The herd was being culled. This struck terror in our souls. We couldn't understand how many had not learned by the time the elections came,
to play The Game. We lied to the pollsters. Of course we adored their candidate! We would want for no other, he was our saviour, he always would
The elections of 2012, once over, ushered in a New Age of Hope they said. What they really meant was they silenced any dissent. They murdered us. Our
loved ones, our elders, the people who had raised us. While many sat idly by waiting to be rescued by aliens, or the world to end, or to ascend to a
higher dimension, our lives were stripped bare of all of our rights and freedoms. No aliens came, the world as we knew it did end, and the only people
that ascended were those that played The Game.
We huddled together, sometimes violent whispers in darkened rooms as we discussed our choices, made our decisions. The toys were all gone. The one
thing they didn't give us credit for while we played with our toys was though we enjoyed them, we were still aware, awake to what our parents were
teaching us. Young, intelligent children growing up with guidance from those who loved us, but now are gone. They just didn't give us credit.
The toys were the first to go. We knew they not only used them to track us, but to spy on us. They followed our every move, and some great database in
the sky was deciding who may be guilty of thinking that was not in line with the status quo. They knew us by our habits, our thoughts, our desires.
Some weren't so easy or willing to let go of their toys, and they got culled too.
Then came the drones. We yearned to do something, anything, to show our anger, but doing so would reveal our true desires. Doing so would cause us to
be culled. We would simply go about our lives with no more than a glance at them as they hovered in the hundreds now, even the thousands over some
cities, over neighborhoods, shopping centers, malls, gathering places. Anywhere there were humans, there were drones.
If you were perceived to even be thinking of retaliation, a laser would shoot from the lens near the camera and take you out. People would step over
you, tsking, and go on about their lives. Tsking about what a waste of life you were, tsking how the government had wasted their money on you,
educating you, placing you in a job, and paying you meager wages.
We no longer had paychecks and taxes, we had allotments. You only got what was fair. Even if you didn't have a job, you got a Fairness wage. It was
very nearly the same as everyone elses allotment. No one was rich, no one was poor. We all just were. If you wanted anything, you had to go without.
Without food, shoes, clothes, until you had saved enough money to buy the toys. The suffering for the toys was placed on you by yourself, no one else.
Obesity was no longer an issue, as the stores had been cleared long ago of all foods that were empty calories. There was no sugar, it was illegal to
buy or own sugar, it was now a controlled substance, and owning or possessing it would land you in prison like coc aine or other illegal drugs.
Drugs were more rare, as they had been droned out of existance, as well. There were no more cartells, drug king pins, or drug users. All dead. They
didn't learn fast enough.
We had saved, stringently, carefully, secretly. Our group was large but as of yet undetected. We knew it was risky, but we felt we had no choice. We
knew that we grew up learning this was not what life was supposed to be, the memories of our forefathers before us, the books we had read, long seared
into our memories. Owning these books now was illegal. They had long since been burned. There was no more Constitution, Bill of Rights, or
Declaration of Independence. Everything that rang of freedom and liberty was now gone. But, they never gave us credit, and this was to our benefit.
People would move in bands, usually at night, forming tight knit groups to carry the goods and personal spoils. Raiders on the roads were common, and
running up on them meant hand to hand combat as our guns were long gone. If you were spotted by a drone with a gun, you got lasered. We had our
weapons. Knives, machettes, long rakes, shovels. We called them tools because we farmed the land for food. We canned, we saved in secrecy, because we
knew we had to make a move soon.
Our night came, and I met with the group. I had a large backpack and two smaller ones. We were heading northwest to a camp hidden in the mountains.
Word travelled by word of mouth by the Trusteds. We had been summoned. I saw Kaylee waiting for me. She had a fretful half smile, and I thought I saw
a hint of a tear flicker in her eye reflecting from the fire as I approached her. I took her bags to offer her some relief, which she gratefully
accepted. I kissed her gently, assuredly, on the forehead as we joined the others. We didn't speak. No more hurried whispers. No words were needed.
The drones would be back soon. Having timed them, we knew we had mere minutes, so we were called to head out. I gathered all the bags and we began our
march to the new camp. Silent footsteps in the woods, each of us screaming in our heads, wanted to call out our anger, frustration and pain, but not
yet. We continued to play The Game as we trudged out of town.
As we headed down the trail, I was one of the last in the group, Kaylee close in front of me. I, like Lots wife, glanced over my shoulder for that one
last look. I paused a moment, taking in the sight of the weather worn and aged fabric of the American Flag someone had hung as a farewell message to
the others still playing The Game.
It hung motionless on a large branch near the fire. I sighed deeply, taking in the sight. It was beautiful! It meant something to me, and as I smiled
at it, the laser from the drone hovering silently nearby shot out and took my life.
My bags dropped from my hands as my body crumpled to the ground. Kaylee paused a moment, barely glancing back as the others stepped over me, tsking as
they stooped only long enough to gather the belongings, tsking that I would now be the the salt of the earth, tsking that I hadn't really yet learned
to play The Game.
edit on 3-9-2012 by Libertygal because: (no reason given)