posted on Sep, 6 2012 @ 11:31 PM
"Keep your head down, and hold your hands open to the side."
She nodded, the mud-caked dirt clinging to her visage. It was her way of hiding her youth, and her gender. Earthly the disguise, beauty underneath.
After California and the San Andreas Rupture, and 3 millions lives lost when the quake hit and a whole state sunk into the ocean, Obama declared
Martial Law. There was no election, and he remained in power, and martial law was never lifted. The economy, precariously balanced, collapsed.
Cities fell, and the only "safe zones" were the areas unpopulated.
We walked slowly, through the checkpoint. Most of the guards of the government established check points didn't have bullets. They used them during
the first year of chaos. It was only a remnant of protocol to walk slowly with arms open, but we still followed it.
We were almost through, when one of the guards whistled short. We stopped immediately, familiar with the whistle. To run now would to be marked for
death, to comply.....
The guard came up to us, a grimy youth, probably nineteen or twenty, brandishing his weapon proudly before him. Bullets or not, he acted rudely.
"Hey, we like young boys, you need to stay."
My daughter cringed. Her disguise was holding.
It was not my place to interrupt, even though I wanted. I had to let her hold her own. She had to learn survival, at eighteen, and realize reality
after years of denial. There was no more TV to watch, no cars to ride in, no gas, especially after it hit seventeen dollars per gallon, and the
United States was now a socialist regime.
She promptly swung, and hit the kid in the jaw, flipping his head backwards as he collapsed on the ground. The other two guards laughed, and we
shuffled along through the checkpoint, with the unwary guard passed out on the ground. I looked at her, and chuckled, and she grinned back at me.
The next checkpoint wasn't so kind. The last had apparently radioed ahead of us.
They stopped us, and stripped our clothes. His gender was realized, and many servicemen took turns raping her as I refused to watch but forced to
listen from my constrained bonds within the camp. My blood seethed revenge, helplessly, and I wept softly, not just for the violations of her young
body, but for the cruelty of mankind.
As tears flowed, and I sobbed, she remained silent throughout her assault.
They let us go in the morning, and gave us extra water to boot. I seethed with rage, my flesh warm, burning within. We were silent for several
"Yeah?" I kept looking ahead, ashamed.
"It's just us now."
I looked at her, finally, overcoming my inability to keep her safe.
She smiled back at me.
We stopped walking at that point, and I hugged her with all my lost dignity.
"I'm sorry." The tears flowing down my cheeks prevented any further words, and I just held her.
We stood there, in the middle of the road, an embrace between father and daughter, both sobbing gently.....