The Passover

News

NEWS

Earth 2018 A.D

Tokyo, Japan

I surge to reach the bullet.

People rush through the train station on the littered concrete floor, the unnoticed walls dirty from lack and neglect. Advertisements have faded together into dirty mache upon the concrete walls, the underground, metal catacomb of walkways and bullet train tracks a dank universe in itself. Busy people go to and from work as day and night work shifts exchange. Green lights lead the way for weary citizens, and the dim light of an oncoming train signaled passengers of its arrival. A rat or two scurry across the floor through the litter along with busy, careless passers.

I sit down on a dirty, cold, plastic bench as I wait and watch, a fixed being in time. I watch people pass by, the trains coming and going, the place full of life; yet so dead, and the obnoxious din unheard. I cross my legs and arms that are warm from my blue uniform. I look down at the scuff on my boots, pulling my frosted blue bangs out of my face. Feeling self conscious, I place my hand on the pistol at my hip and tap my fingers, exhaling loudly through my mask.

I was anxious about my new project. As a detective and an intelligence analyst, I take known information about situations of strategic, operational, or tactical importance, characterizing the known, and, with appropriate statements of probability, the future actions in those situations. I hope my next assignment is not as terrifying and morally wrong as "a Mafia Warlord's Cocaine Overdose and Smuggling Sting Opperation in Dubai" assignment. That evidence will not be seen by the light of day, will never to be revealed to the public.

My train arrives, and I go on swiftly, ignoring society around me, which is socially acceptable because nobody is socially receptive except on a droid.

When I jump off the crowded, stinky, unsanitary, train, I run up the cluttered, crowded, steps into the evening. Sky trams rushed by and carbon from cars filled the air stinging my nostrils burning even with my mask. The fact that some people don't wear a mask for the sake of their ego and not their health, concerned me. I got away with it because my Respro matched amazingly with my suit, giving me the look of a shrewd assassin instead of an officer.

The sun has just set, leaving the light of evening and taking the stink of the afternoon with it. I run to my glass apartment, into the doors, up the metal elevator and into my small apartment complex. Unlike many, I like living humbly. Throwing my jacket and Respro to the ground and inhaling deeply, I run to my medicine cabinet and grabbed my bottle of pain killers. I stared at it. I have become addicted to them and now I am seemingly immune. No amount could take the stress nor migraines away. I put the pills away, defeated, refusing anything else. I should have seen a specialist for my problem, but I could have lost my job for my minor drug addiction. I hear the TV buzzing with talk, and I turn my ear to it, walking slowly towards.

Bombing in the middle east is once again in an uproar. A recent bombing at a refugee camp has created 45 fatalities and 70 injured. The United States has joined with Syria to stop the bombings. We have sent troops and supplies.

I flip the channel.

The rogue Hurricane Fauve that had hit the coast of France last July has had a huge impact on the french and has cut off their supplies. The U.S had planned to send them supplies until their tie with China was cut. Since then, the U.S has tried to tie with Japan. I can tell you that the tie has been made, the economy will increase, and supplies will be sent to France. Also, an airport in South Carolina was bombed by the Syrians last Saturday at 12 p.m killing 12 people and injuring 37. The president is planning to stop these terrorists as soon as possible and is coming up with a plan.

By now, I have sunk down into the couch. I turn the TV to another channel, sick of the news and the stupidity of it all. I had been at that airport to inspect the damage. The fact that the the United States are fighting with and against Palestine was ridiculous. Like kicking our own balls over and over and over again.

The next channel is a lewd romance that is targeted at children as young as 11. The sexuality of the TV show is vomit-able. Has the world aged me before my time of 32? I turn to another channel.

Even though deforestation has tried to have been slowed down, trees keep getting cut and they are not regrowing. Ladies and gentleman, the trees are no longer growing! This is a global emergency!

I flip the channel.

Poaching has increased because of higher demand for the disappearing animals. The last rhino in Zimbabwe's Animal Park has just died, therefore the African Rhino is now extinct despite trying to breed or clone. Here is a list of all the species we have lost since 2012.

I continue flipping through channels becoming more and more irritated.

Flooding has increased by 30% in Australia submerging 1/3 of the continent. People are suggested to evacuate...

Flip.

The U.S  has declined to signing the United Nation's treaty as it strives to become the one world power.

Flip.

A 25 year-old pregnant woman on Wednesday, in Louisiana, has been stabbed in the belly while buying hand me down baby clothes. The man cut the woman and took the fetus out of the womb. The woman has survived and is recovering.

How is someone supposed to recover form that? Her baby was ripped from inside her and killed before her eyes! They speak of the child's death so nonchalantly! Just like the end of this world. I glare at a blank space on the wall, breathing in deeply, before turning back to the TV.

We later learned that the man: Sean William Madison, was part of a Satanist group and may be trialed for murder.

He killed a growing child! It had a heart beat, nerves and a developing brain! I swear. In a fit a blind rage, I get up from the couch, pick up the flat screen, and slam it on the table. Over and over and over. It has a sickening, yet, oh so delicious sound.

The frame and screen cracks. I lift it up and throw it across the room. By then, the TV was no longer works. I was completely blind by anger and stress that I had thrown it at the large glass wall.

The flat screen hits the glass with a large smash and fell to the floor like a great, wounded, black, metallic bird. I look closer and notice that the window has a crack. Looking past, I notice the sky is finally darkening and the city skyline has lit up. The purplish city lights illuminate the tiny indent were the flat screen has hit it. Everything surrounding me is quiet, dark, and still; hushed in a muted, blue shadow.

My chest rises and falls despite the seeming peacefulness of the quiet room.

I stand still, the piling thoughts grow like my shadow. I turn on my heel, grab my mask and jacket, and leave the stillness, knowing that I shall not return tonight. I leave with a slam of the door.

The window cracks.