Just up until a couple of months ago, I had to walk one hour to get to the fields to do my job. But now, my parents got me a bike, so it cuts the commute in half, to just 30 minutes. As a began my ride I start thinking of the money my mom just payed, why would she do that? What if the government just hoarded the money to themselves and didn't even aid the troops?
It was a pretty nice day to ride, I don't know the temperature because I didn't check it before I left, but it feels as if it is around 70 degrees. I look around me, a lot of hills, and to the west, it flattens out. My parents told me if you were to head west far enough, you would see the ocean, but that is out of our charter, so we cannot go there. When I used to go to school, my teacher told me that this area used to be a state, called California, but it was a lot larger than just our charter.
I have always wondered about why we were divided into charters, isolated from one and another, some ravished with poverty, others with crime. And then, some were like us, a little poverty here and there, and a little of crime. Then, there were the charters that were rich, and had everything they wanted at the tip of their fingers. The only answer I have received was that about 150 years or so ago, we as a country voted on it, but it doesn't make sense, why would we divide ourselves?
And then I wondered, how am I going to handle this extra two hours? 9 hours is already enough, they are almost dividing my day into half work, half home, but half home was really 9 hours of sleep, 4 hours of relax. We are barely payed anything at all, maybe they will increase pay to make it a little more compensating.
By the time all these thoughts crossed my mind, I got to the fields. The usual then occurred. I saw Trinity get out of her car that she calls, "the beater."
"Hey Trinity" I say.
"What's up James" she responds, in an odd way, different than normal, a flat, monotone response.
"You okay?" I ask
"Yeah, just a little pissed about the new work hours," she says, "Hopefully we will get payed decently."
"Yeah" I respond, not really knowing what to say.
I then see our boss pull up a stool, he says, "Alright people! Hush!"
"As you may know, President Aleman ordered new work hours," he says, out of the corner of my eye I see Michael running to hear what Boss is saying, "Now, the extra two hours you work you will receive 5 dollars."
I then hear a bunch of shouting mostly, "What!"
"I know, people, but I can't do anything about it sorry, now get to work!" Then Boss walks off with his stool in hand.
Michael and Trinity meet up with me, "So, for 11 hours of work, we are making 15 dollars?" says Michael. Michael is the one to express his opinions, he doesn't care who hears it, he will share it regardless.
Trinity says, "We should do something about this, there making us do all the work, while they sit around and do nothing. While they do nothing, they are killing our citizens and people abroad, it's a messed up system."
"Yeah but what can three teenagers do to stop this? I understand that our government is plummeting to the ground so to speak, but what can we do about it?" I say
"You know what my grandpa said one day?" Trinity says
"What is that" says Michael.
"The future is fueled by those who do things above and beyond what they are required to do, people that want to do good so that future generations are ensured a better future." says Trinity
I say, "Yeah, the future isn't fueled by pessimistic, ignorant, fools like our government, if they grab hold of it, we go no where, or if we go anywhere, we go down, not up."
YOU ARE READING
Malevolent
ActionJames Delgado is an average teenager that lives in the destroyed Republic of America. He makes a menial wage, and has no freedom whatsoever. He realizes that something needs to be done, but doesn't realize that he is about to join a large covert ope...