We must never forget.
The scentence played over and over as I made my way through the black mudded streets. The splish, splash of the ground was trying to drown out the awful speakers that hang on the wall of every light post. Rain decided to make a visit tonight I see. That is not the only thing making visits tonight.
I look at the wolf in sheep's clothing across the street. I see the Watchers are stopping by for a chat with the folks about the rebel attacks. The one last week has really made things diffulcult for me.
The wolf holds the door for his friend. Both are wearing the standard military green suits I see. That is rare around here. Most look like you and me. As they exit the buildings I notice the weather hitting them as they walk along the road. The "rain" better be careful; the wolves might get the den mother involved.
I see the city soak up the rain, and reflect it on me. All the "posters" dance across the towers in the sky. The decay is still evidence of the lack of care "Teacher" has for us. The only clean thing in this city is his statue.
Between the lights glaring and the speakers I am surprise anyone sleeps in this horrid shovel of a place. Looking into the window of the broken store window my reflection laughs at me.
"Home sweet home" it mocks. The hollow eyes stare back at me. Eyes make me think of the people across the wall. They say those "Pretty People" have beautiful eyes. I wonder what it is like to be pretty. Growing up I was never a pretty child. The large black chunky glasses I wear always look weird on my hollow, pale face, and the baggy hand me downs from mom made me look low class.
Sometimes I would think that if I would climb the wall that separated us from the Pretty People, perhaps I would be considered pretty too. We use to live so close to the wall, I would go and color chalk on the bright faded red bricks. I ponder some days how the wall looks now. Probably decrepit by now by the lack of up keep.
On sunny days I would go sit on our porch, and watch the wall. I just wish that on beautiful days like those I didn't have to watch the people "fly". Those people always looked dirty, sad even. I was so proud of those people that my young mind wished they could take me with them. However the pain soaked truth revealed itself as I aged. Those people were not birds, nor planes, and the landing gear would never deploy.
I stopped one once . He was young, however not as young as I was at the age of four. He had the most innocent eyes. I was stunned as to what could cause such innocent to come across. Want to leave as everything over there seemed peaceful compared to the wars here. I never did find out what happened to him. He made his way to the top, and froze when he looked at me. The next thing I know I screamed and he fell backwards. I felt bad for all those for never could make it.
Now I just laugh at the people stupid enough to enter into this place. Sometimes I wonder though if someone would have survived what the person would had said. Father would make me keep the barn nice, and clean for if they made it. I think mother would cry. Not in front of me or my siblings, but alone. Mother was always the glue that kept the family together. Now it is my turn. That is what my purpose is tonight. I hope that is why I am here tonight. For if it is not to protect my sister, and brother from there fate; I would feel mighty stupid for bringing a chance of death such as this. Hopefully next year I can convince them, but as of right now you can not change the past.
WARNING: CURFEW STARTS IN 15 MINUTES
I watch the lights bounce off the buildings lighting up my path. How can the light be so cruel. It aluiminates my face. I need to hurry before I get noticed.
Running in between cars and buildings I watch as the cruel lights turn into flames. Not real ones although I wouldn't complain. Some days I wish the flames would take me. Swallow me up to never be seen again. Of course it wouldn't make a difference to a lot of people. Maybe my dad, little brother , or my sister, but not to anyone else. For you see I don't really exists. I am a ghost. Not literally,but to the government I died a long time ago. Alongside my mother. On that fateful day. As the evening moon provide perfect lighting as an evil animal took the life of my mother. As those people became grotesque wolves. I made myself promise to never let that cold fire die. Sometimes, I wonder if mother missed me beyond the grave.
My mother once told me thoughts are like the embers that feed the fire of action, and with every action another flame is bound to erupt.
I guess in a sense that was true. I was never much for metaphors, or similes. They just seem too irrelevant for me. However I can not argue the truth they can bring. Even if I can not understand the riddle. I remember she would softly whisper that saying to me as I laid there during my chemo treatments. She would lay there next to me with her auburn hair mixing with my blonde strains in the sunlight. I would always question those words as if they could unlock the future for me. She would always smile, or giggle at my questions. However, she never belittled them or me. Mother would simply reply you would know when your older.
Almost eight years later, and still I have no clue. I will figure it out one day i feel it in my bones. Probably not while I sneak a ride on the military truck. Some day though. For I have a feeling those words will help me bring stop this country from taking anymore of my joy, and happiness away. For I will fight them til the end of my days for what they did. I will stop them from hurting my family.
As I ride pass the sign that pronounces the name of my final destination. I also witness that writing that haunts me to this day. Although, those words don't scare me as they are suppose to. To them I am a ghost.That give me strength, because it is true.
We must never forget, but I will always remember.
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Sorry I took so long lot of things occurred. Will keep trying to keep up with updates.
~cousins
YOU ARE READING
Secrets
Science Fiction"The once great nation was now no longer, and it was now broken in pieces. People thought the story was done. The dark days were behind us. It was all straight forward. They were done with secrets. I wish that were true, because the dark days affe...
