Jemima Wilson
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅
In 2121 the government of Orion finally relinquished the British as the head of state and adopted a republican system. However, the day of the coup d'état on November 5, 2125, was one of the country's greatest ruination. It marked the day of the 'Uprising'. The country's people rose against its corrupted leaders. It was anarchy, anguish, and bloodshed. The flashes of bright red and blue lights that once meant protection now signals war.
Three years after the coup d'état, the island has fallen into what is now called the Economic Ice Age. Every day it was the same old news, the same headline on the front pages, an explosion here, and another one there. Twenty bodies were found dismantled beyond recognition. Gang war broke out in St. Maris. Last week it was St. Augusta. Maybe today it would be in Kingston. A government building was consistently demolished at the hands of criminals.
Welcome to 2131.
Even with all the destruction surrounding us, the citizens went on with their lives. Some schools remained open unless there was an attack. Government workers, although fearful, still tend to their jobs. I don't understand why we aren't staying inside or, better yet, living underground. The streets are a political mess. If I should wear a shirt representing either Michael Wade or Howard Mason; our two best candidates for the next presidential elections. I would kill the moment my toes touch the pavement. At least once per week someone forgot the dress code in their area and turned up on the news—Dead. Just another victim of political warfare.
It was my second year at the University of the Newlands. I survived last year mainly because I stayed in my dorm room and only came out for food and classes. I wasn't brave like the other students who brazenly partied on campus without fear. Despite the countless guards situated on the school grounds and the army of soldiers posted in Halcyon Square, that was certainly not enough to convince me that it was safe to let my guard down.
There were too many stories about the soldiers being ambushed. If one should go back to check the headlines, none of these criminals or political activists were ever caught or even reported injured. Sometimes, I wonder if law enforcement wanted to catch them. If you ask me, they are doing a terrible job. This is why citizens don't believe that they can protect anyone. They can't even protect themselves for that matter.
I stepped out of my mother's car and hurriedly went to the trunk to retrieve my suitcase. We have been outside for more than fifteen minutes; my anxiety was already getting the best of me. Spending too long on the road was like waving a flag that says 'shoot me'. Maybe it was my mind coping with the level of violence around me. I wasn't going to take any chances today.
Who knows when they will decide to attack?
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you inside?" My mother, Ann asks worriedly.
"No, you'll be late for work. I'll talk to you later. Good luck on your big case," I tell her, then close the trunk. She waves goodbye before speeding off in the direction of Halcyon Square.
We hadn't been the same since my brother died three years ago. The events surrounding his death were a mystery. The authorities didn't do much to investigate what had happened. They ruled it as a tragic accident, guess they had bigger issues than a dead twenty years old.
My mother handles the news by burying herself in work and distancing herself from me. I choose to forget and push the fact that he was dead to the back of my mind. Brandon wasn't an angle. I didn't know what exactly he was doing all those late nights but I'm sure his death was no accident. My father on the other hand is someone I cannot find myself missing because he passed when I was only three months old.
You can't miss someone you don't remember but somehow I wonder what life would be like if he had got sick.
The tiny wheels on my bag scrape against the rough gravel as I pull it behind me lazily. I was about to stop to fix it, but I froze when the smell of smoke filled my nostrils. There was undoubtedly a building burning nearby, hopefully, it wasn't too close.
Once I passed the security checkpoint and the huge double-iron gates, I was inside the campus. It was easy to get lost if you didn't know where you were going. The campus was a complete contrast to the disaster that was happening on the island. Each building seems freshly painted. The grass was a light shade of green; the long trees danced in sync with the wild September wind. Students were on the lawn laughing carefree. It made me almost forget the harsh reality of the island.
"Jemi!" My lingering gaze was torn from the students towards a beaming Lia who was coming toward me. She immediately envelops me in a bone-crushing hug.
"I can't breathe!" I choke out, causing her to let me go. When she did, the air rush back into my lungs. I open my mouth to yell a few profanities at her. Her ringing phone stops me. A look of trepidation comes over her features; her trembling hands reach into her pockets.
"I have to take this. I will see you at class, don't be late," She puts out hastily, then turns on her heels and walks away in the direction of the gate.
Seeing the look of trepidation on her was strange; I had known Lia since the ninth grade. She was always cheerful and happy compared to me, who was depressed eighty-five percent of the time. I'm certain it was nothing. I didn't bother to ponder on it any longer.
I find my way to the dorms. The entrance had transparent double doors with the words 'DORMS' printed in a white stylish font. At the front was a mahogany desk, with a woman, dressed in a professional suit standing behind it. Beside the desk stood a trophy case made of Cedarwood. This made the place to smell as if there were dozens of pencils sharpened not too long ago, a scent that I associate with studying. I walk up to the desk and place my receipt in front of the receptionist.
"Good morning," my voice was chirpy and ecstatic even though it was the exact opposite of what I felt.
"Good Morning. Is this your receipt?"
"Yes"
"Jemima Wilson, right?"
"Isn't that already on the paper?" I ask already starting to feel irritable. The receptionist glares at me and then shoves a key toward me. "Thank you," I mutter, and she hums in response.
Upon entering the dorm that Lia and I would share; my mouth hit the floor. Lia's clothes were thrown all over the place. It looked as if the room had been torn apart. My eyes catch a glimpse of water coming from the kitchen. The tap was running; I turn it off, draining the sink.
Twirling around in confusion, I begin to wonder if we were robbed because I know Lia would never do this. I place my suitcase in my room. There is only fifteen minutes until my first class for the year started. There was no time to clean or unpack. This was why I should have packed my stuff and moved onto campus over the weekend instead of procrastinating.
Finally, I resort to gathering the clothes that were in the way and mopping most of the water, I was finished in ten minutes; with only five minutes to spear—I tie my curly brown hair in messy bun and dash across the lawn, ignoring the guard dog that was furiously barking. When I get to the room, the Lecturer was just about to begin, and there was no sign of my best friend. So much for not being late.
I took a seat in the middle of the room and try to focus my attention on the video presentation; the words reach my ears however my brain couldn't comprehend them. I couldn't calm my breathing for some reason.
It happens in the blink of an eye.
A massive, ear-shattering explosion went off somewhere on campus. The room enters a frenzy as everyone tried to fit through the small door. There was excessive screaming which made focusing on my surroundings almost impossible. I stumble from my table to the door. A thick grey smoke covers the campus lawn. My eyes could only see a few feet away from me. My lungs were burning at the scent of the smoke. It tasted like metal on my tongue. Feeling a warm liquid trickling down my lips, my hands instinctively touch it. I was bleeding, and so was everyone else.
Some had already passed out from inhaling excessive smoke. I was about to join them. Even my efforts to pull my blouse over my nostrils didn't help. The scene becomes blurry and mystifying. The only thing keeping my body upright was the wall.
Through my hazy vision, I see a man wearing what appears to be a gas mask, walking toward me with a gun in his hands. I didn't have the strength to run; no one did. He stops right before me, and I swear I felt my heart stop for a second.
"Seems like I'm right on time," His husky voice sounds far away with all the ringing in my ears.
"Daniel, we need to go before the police get here," Another male voice says, but I couldn't tell where exactly it was coming from.
"Let me think."
A pair of strong arms lay me on the ground gently. The action helps my muscles to relax. Unfortunately, my chest was still on fire. I want to run. What if they kill me? It didn't matter, though, the smoke would do the job for them. A few seconds after my back touches the ground; my sleeve was torn off. Followed by a pricking sensation on my upper arm. My mouth parted to scream, but the sound gets caught my throat. The pain didn't last long. Soon my breathing went back to normal.
Were they helping me?
"Are we leaving her here?"
Those are the last words I hear before heavy darkness came over me and forces me into a deep slumber.