The Sadens

On a random Tuesday morning, the sun shines and the flowers bloom. I look around, breathing the fresh air, as I step outside. I guide my way down the long, heavily guarded staircase hoping to have an uneventful breakfast. Much to my dismay, a masked guard followed me into the cafeteria. I start moving faster, trying to sit at a dusty wooden table and grab anything, before the shadow of the guard covers my plate. I am forced to eat a dull muffin for my morning meal. I take my time nibbling on the corners from the plain quick bread. The nosy guard stands above me, watching my every move, thinking me to be untrustworthy. I try my best to ignore his bulky body, but his presence is undeniable. I look at him in his fearless brown eyes with detest.

Although his grey armor shines in the sun, his silver sword draws my attention. Its sharp edges and great length made me rethink any plans of escape. I turn back to my devastating muffin and take my first real bite. It tastes like flour and stale bread, just like yesterday's meal, and every other meal before that. I hesitate to take another, but I force it into my mouth for fear of starvation plagues my mind. Once I finish, I grab the plastic wrapper and throw it into the half-full trash can. The guard noticed that I’ve finished my food and ruthlessly throws me to the stairs by the front of my shirt. A few people curiously turn their heard at the unexpected noises. Anger rises within my veins, but I decide not to make a dramatic scene in the full cafeteria. I unwillingly walk up the stone stairs and into my metal cell. My two cell-mates sit on the floor, devastated for what’s to come. They look up at the guard, then me, wistfully waving at me. Their eyes show fear, knowing their time in the cruel world was almost up. The silver guard pushes me into the depressing cell. I join my mates and sit down on the cold floor. They had their heads hung low while tears trickled down their red eyes and onto the ground.

Charlie was fidgeting with her fingers. It was easy to tell she was distressed and overworked from anxiety as her whole body was shaking from head to toe. She was sobbing and mumbling a few words that I could not make out. I patted her on the back telling her everything would be alright, although it was not certain.

Max looked like he was searching for an answer. His face is cupped by his hands and his long fingernails scratch on his wrinkled forehead. He seems dumbfounded by the events from the past two days.

It was difficult enough to stay optimistic, but when the roar of the crowd that would witness my death is heard, my heart skips a beat. It’s weird to remember that just fifty-two hours ago, I was enjoying my cup of coffee reading the daily news. Although everything was upsetting, what with all the twisted things that were occurring, my family and I were still safe. Sometimes little miracles like that were enough to keep up morale.

It was early in the morning, meaning my mother and father were still sound asleep in their room upstairs. I had just finished breakfast when three loud knocks on the door rang loud and clear on the hall. All I can remember were that is two armed men running at me with a needle. I must’ve fallen asleep at some point after that. I woke up in this cell with Charlie and Max and have not seen my parents since.

I sigh loudly. Max and Charlie look up from their despair with hopeless frowns. Their heads turn to the bars of the cell. I imagine they were desperate for an escape and wanted to remember what freedom felt like.

I hear keys bouncing from their chain from outside of the cell.

“Another prisoner.” I thought.

What surprises me was our door opening. The guard signal us up, and handcuff our hands behind our cramped backs. About fifty powerless prisoners stood in a straight line leading down the spiral stairs. The guards lead the long line and march step by step. Almost everyone knew what was about to happen. I saw friends exchanging their final hugs and couples kissing each other goodbye. Charlie and Max were uncontrollably sobbing, the fear of what's to come taking over the rationale part in their brains. The vicious roar of the crowd drew closer as the men in silver armor drew us near. We pass the cafeteria and multiple other restricted rooms before reaching an arched tunnel. In front of me stood about 20 people, so it was difficult to make out where we were, but I was fairly sure that a crowd of twenty-thousand eager supporters of this cruel takeover, executors equipped with the most deadly weapons, and the leader, the queen, awaits us. We walk into the arena out like a sports team emerging from the dugout. Wild cheers spread across the great platform. I can hear the crowd around me yelling and jeering as we are led into the arena. I can only compare this to Ancient Rome and their gladiators fighting to the death.

The Queen menacingly grinned at our arrival. Her grey eyes maliciously peer into the vulnerable standing in line.

As she looks around, I notice a golden, heart-shaped locket. In this locket, two pictures are carefully cut out and placed. She opens this locket, smiling. As I strain my eyes to see what could possibly be so precious to her that it makes her smile, I’m pushed away by a guard. As I stumble, I can only think of what picture could be in this piece of jewelry. The Queen is dressed in an elegant blazer and pants. I can see the others around me, hesitant to look at her as if she is the most terrifying being on the planet, but there is something behind this fear. There is a sense of defiance. Of course there is, they wouldn’t be here with me if they weren’t. Their once brave persona crumbles, as they are left as a shell of their once former being. As I am pushed closer to her, I am able to make out 2 pictures on the locket. One is a picture of 2 children, looking about 5 and 6. The other is a picture of a beautiful woman, dressed in light green, mid-laugh. She looks happier than I’ve seen most people in my neighborhood. Where I’m from, there is no time to be happy, only time to work and work until we drop dead.

I still can only think of the locket with the pictures as I stand next to 3 others. Do they know that the person they love has a double life? Do they know the horrors she has caused because of lies and manipulation, giving the public false information layered with biases? The people sitting in the stands are cheering and laughing, laughing at our mistakes, laughing at our unfortunate lives. The leader isn’t old, only 35, but she is ruthless, never caring for anyone’s feelings if there was no money to back them up. Capitalist views have destroyed our democracy. The rich get ticker, and the poor are thrown out. They can’t have any bad apples to infect the rest.

Finally, our time comes. The Queen raises her flag, then jerks it down. The guards pull the trigger and I already feel my insides numbing and paining. The sound of triggers consumes the wild cheers. Blood covers the dirt and sand. I feel multiple bullets hit me, one on the stomach and 2 on the arm. I knew we lost the fight. To be fair, there wasn’t much fight left in us to begin with. The Sadens Organizations had successfully taken over every country in the world ending here, in Paris. My body collapses and the scene turns black.