Day Without June : a legend fanfic [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5

It really kills me just to sit around and watch, not being able to do anything. Every day I sneak a look into my family's house, but nothing changes. Although Eden tries to walk around, show everyone they are strong enough, it is pretty obvious that he is in pain. His skin is now some sick green-ish colour, and he's lost a bit of weight. Mom nurses him when she can, and she sits on that old table with John.

My family's going through all this, but I can't do anything. I'm still too weak to go out and get money, and besides, the police and the soldiers around this area are now at the highest alert now that the words of me being around are out.

I've lost a few bottles of plague suppressors during the escape. Considering that I only took what was in the fridge - five small bottles, each containing doses for three days - that was a huge loss. I'd go out to get money or the cure, but what if I get caught? Tess told me that the police and the patrols are arresting any "suspicious" people on sight, and that a lot of people are questioned on streets. I am basically stuck in this old, broken down apartment complex, watching my family suffer, and watching Tess take risks.

So yeah. My life here pretty much sucks.

I, as usual, stare out the window and look at our apartment's street. There is a group of kids playing tag.

The site brings back memories, when John and I would play on the streets until dinner or until a routine plague inspection began.  When I was still too young to thing the Republic was good. When I was still too young and too naive to think that if I worked hard enough, I'd be rich and famous.

I'm famous, all right.

The kids - they should get back to their homes, if they even have one, before the goddy Republic soldiers beat them up to death. I never really understood why the soldiers hate us slum sector people but they just do. It's their thing, I guess. They think they're better, smarter, and do whatever they want to do with us.

Then two street police shows up at the corner, entering our street.

The kids glance at the police in awe, as they continue walking toward the kids. I can see the kids averting eyes, trying not to look at them, but there's one kid who appears to be Eden's age. He eyes the police. His gaze is fixed on them.

The taller police notices the kid, nudges the partner, and whispers something. They quicken their pace, making their way to that kid.

Even when the police are towering over the kid, he is frozen, locking his eyes with theirs. The police shoves him backward, and shouts something angrily. I don't read lips, but it's probably something like 'Why the hell are you looking at us?'

The kid hits the ground, and all the other guys back up slowly. The police trot says something again. The kid responds by shaking his head side to side frantically. The other kids look at each other now, clearly not knowing what to do.

The trot pulls up the kid by his collar, and then drops him on the ground. His boots drive into his chest over and over again. The kid crumbles on the ground, curling himself into a ball. He instinctively wraps his hands around his head protectively. 

I have to fight my urge to get out there and kick the trot's ass. His partner isn't doing anything. He just stands and watches. Doesn't matter - bystanders are the worst people.

My memory jumps back to the time when the street police hit me. Mom saved me by giving them all of our money and the dinner - chicken. It makes me upset so much that I clench my fist until my knuckles turn white.

Again, it kills me just to sit and watch.

But I don't know what to do. It's not like I can get out there, give them a few thousand notes, and ask for forgiveness. It's not like I can start a fight with him - I mean, I could, but I would only end up getting arrested.

I flinch every time the boot hits the kid.

The beating seems to last for an eternity. Finally a couple comes rushing out of their house, and hold the trot's arm. He stops, but soon swing his arm and slaps the mother. The father turns to his wife, worried, then to the police, and says something to him. The trot eyes the man from head to toe.

Then his partner finally steps in. He whispers something to the trot, and pulls him away. Together, they finally walk away, although the trot keeps turning back to look at the kid and the couple.

Hell, I don't know how the Republic defines the term "police"

The definition of police in the Republic of America: a group of people who have the license to abuse slum sector people if they feel like it.

I hate the Republic. I hate its system.

I've been trying to fix thing until now - and I'm not about to stop now.

 I'm going back to my old-school method. To my first action against the Republic.

Hey, y'all ready? 

I'm not just here. I'm coming for you.

I'm coming to get you. Now.

I got a plan. I grin at the anticipation of what I am about to do. Yes, I am walking down the memory lane right now.