Behind every society are the ones who pull the strings. Our lives are controlled by government officials and politicians who brainwash their citizens and rig their elections so they are always in power. They've created a secret organization that use...
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"Mrs. President! Mrs. President!"
Flashing cameras shined upon a tall, middle aged woman behind a brown podium. It was one of the life changing days of American history, a woman was elected as president. Her name was Vivienne Westbrook, a professional businesswoman who rose through the political rankings to get herself on the election roster.
She also got some help from her husband, Porter Westbrook, who was the Vice President to the pervious leader of the free world. The two become a national powerhouse. As Vivienne created speeches that the citizens adored, Porter gave his undying support to her publicly. Thus, making the people love her even more.
"Please! Please! One question at a time, I promise to get to all of you. What do you have to ask?" Vivienne's voice echoed into the microphone. She pointed out to the bright eyed, young journalist in the front row.
"Mrs. President, how does it feel to be the first female president in American history?"
"It is an honor to be up here today and change history for the better. I hope to become a role model for all independent women out there who's dreams are larger than life."
Her bright, red lips smiled out to the crowds, allowing them to take more pictures of her for their news articles and reports. Her mouth opened to say with grace, "Next question, please."
"Mrs. President, what's it like to work with your husband in the political work field?"
Vivienne looked towards her husband, who was standing to her left. The two came together, Porter wrapping his arm lovely around his wife's shoulder, pecking a kiss on her lips.
The president blushed, "It is helpful to have a person who is always faithful and loyal on your side in this tough work. I wouldn't want to have it any other way."
Before the woman could continue, an official guard wearing an expensive suit interrupted and spoke out to the crowd, "I apologize but the president can no longer take questions. She needs to get ready with a meeting with foreign leaders."
All the reporters outraged, screaming for them to answer their questions and take pictures. The guard ushered the couple out of the public eye and into the White House. As the massive brown doors closed behind them, the president's smile curved into a frown and violently pushed her husband away from her.
Her cinnamon brown eyes filled with anger, the lady's voice switched from soft and gentle to loud and furious. "Why the hell did you kiss me, Porter?!"
The man yelled back to her, "You said to make this relationship look believable! I'm just doing what you ordered me to!" Porter fixed his auburn hair that was turning gray.
"If you ever try to do that nasty shit again with me, I swear to you that I will ruin your 'perfect' reputation." Vivienne threatened to Porter, pointing her finger in his face.
Porter scoffed, "You have nothing against me, Vivienne."
"Oh, I don't? Then please tell me, what were you doing with that 15 year old girl in your hotel room in 2001?"
The man's eyes widened in fear, knowing very well that if this information got out to the public that it would murder his political career and would be sent to jail for the rest of his life.
Down the hallway, the two saw a feeble man wearing round glasses sprint down to them. Out of breathe and sweating from how nervous he was, his speech was stuttering, "M-mr. Westbrook! Someone hacked into the database again!"
Porter's face turned into disgust, "Don't tell me it's-"
"It's the 'Error 303', sir. We need your help immediately, they're extracting information!"
"Damn it!" He cursed, running down the hall with the feeble man. "They always have to start problems with us!"
Just as they left, the guard handed over a black cell phone to Vivienne, "Mrs. President, it's a call from the foreign leaders."
"Thank you." She took the phone and walked into the Oval Office, locking the door behind her. "Hello, everyone."
"Ms. Vivienne, congratulations from all of us on winning the election."
"I couldn't have done it without all your support and helpful information."
"Shall we begin the operation?"
"Yes." She told into the phone as she gazed out of her large window, exposing all the citizens who believed in her lies and tricks. They were unknowing to their president's true corrupt methods and wishes, "We shall."
