1. Starting In The Middle of The End
Prologue and Chapter One
PART ONE: THE END OF THE WORLD
Prologue
WE grew up in camp, but unlike you, we weren’t born here. My sisters and I were born in another world.
I say that not because we came from another planet or another country or something. It was this planet, and this country, but it literally was another world.
The older folks here remember, and they may tell you if you ask, but they don’t talk about it much anymore. I guess it must hurt them to remember.
It hurts us, too.
Well, mostly it hurts me, because I remember the most. Mae remembers a lot, but Dawn doesn’t remember anything. She was too young; and as far as that goes, it’s better that she doesn’t.
You’ll understand why soon enough.
I am your teacher now, and yet…I don’t know whether to call this story time or a history lesson. I guess it’s a little of both.
There will be some people here who won’t like that I’m telling you this story. They can come and talk to me later if they’re angry. But I will tell you this right now — every one of you is older now than we were when this happened. If we could live through it, I think you’re old enough to hear about it.
Besides, any kids who are being taught how to take care of guns, fight hand-to-hand combat and sword fighting should be able to hear a little story without too many ill effects.
Yes, it’s a scary story. But you already know the outcome — we lived. We’re here, aren’t we?
I don’t know quite how to start this out, except to say that there once was a country called The United States of America.
Yes, I know we still call it that; but it’s different now. I don’t even know why we cling to the name — except that it makes the older people feel better, maybe.
In that United States, their old United States, there were millions of people. The land was vast; and it was divided into 50 states. There were territories, too, that hadn’t ever become states.
I’ll explain states later.
There were other countries: England and Japan, Australia and Germany. They were across oceans from us. Maybe they still are.
What? Oh! An ocean is a huge body of water. Not like rivers or ponds or anything we have around here. Huge. You can’t see to the other side, it’s so big.
How do I know? Books and pictures. Maps of the world. I’ll show you sometime soon. I’ve been to the city, you see. I salvaged what I could from the library and schools and bookstores.
I look at those pictures and I think all that land is still there. It has to be. The city was bombed, but the land is still there. There have been fires, but the land remains.
I suppose there are people out there we know nothing about. I’m sure of it, in fact. But we can’t ever know for sure — not unless we want to leave our home.
We can’t do that; we’re safe here.
Also…we don’t want them to know about us.
So, I’ll tell you the story of how my sisters and I came to be here, and then you might understand why it’s so important to be our very own state.
There once was a country called the United States of America, where millions of people lived. There were cars and trucks driving on busy highways, big stores full of food and toys and clothes, schools for the children, and playgrounds and parks.
Everyone had electricity and televisions and cell phones.
No one lived under the ground.
~~**~~***~~**~~
Chapter One
Things didn’t go so well in the early years of the 21st century, I guess. It was like it all went backward. People were fighting all over the world. Other countries were staying apart from us. No one wanted to work together anymore.
The military tried to keep things together, going off to do battles with other countries that might want to destroy us.
Just lately, though, it seemed like there was plenty of trouble in our own country, and that it might be our own people who wanted to destroy each other.
There were mostly men in power in our country. They were all rich, and most of them were old. They wanted more money, God knows why; they already had everything they could ever need.
They were too old to fight, but not too old to start fights that younger and poorer people would have to finish. What did it matter to them? They could stay home in their big houses with all their things and their good food and never have to lift a finger to protect it all.
They had the military for that. They had the young people, the poor people, to do their dirty work. They dangled offers of rewards and honors that they never delivered, and the military, ever loyal to the country, feel for the rhetoric and served.
They served; they were maimed or killed for the honor of defending old, rich men who only cared about money and things and not for the people they were supposed to protect.
America.
It was not a great time to be in a military family.
We lived on base housing, but it was all falling apart. Routine maintenance wasn’t getting done; the playground equipment was no longer safe; the school was closed. the only thing being taken care of and used regularly was the commissary, that that was the biggest reason we were still there.
People were getting scared, and families were moving out. There were only a few people left on our street. There were the Johnsons, who lived across the street from us, and the Richards family who lived next door to them in the same duplex.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Montgomery, had taken her daughter and moved out the week before, so our side of the duplex was the only one occupied. The duplex next door to us on our side of the building was empty.
I don’t remember if there was anyone still living in the duplex on the other side, next to Mrs. Montgomery, and I guess it doesn’t matter, anyway.
Hardly anyone was living anywhere after this happened.
~~**~~***~~**~~
To Be Continued.
Starting In The Middle of The End was self-published by MyArts by Paula Publications on Amazon’s KDP platform in 2018. I hold all rights.
Starting in the Middle of The End: Shablo, Paula: 9781790786114: Amazon.com: Books
