So, you wanna talk about how technology is crappy nowadays? It ain't about how sometimes the internet slows down or if your school blocked you from reaching "the weird side of Youtube," there's a whole lotta stuff going down in the city of Los Angeles. My name is Jake Cliffe, and... let's just face it. Phones suck. Computers are trash. At first I thought it was because people didn't know how to use them responsibly, I always see screwheads swerving all over traffic and killing each other. I thought it was just stupidity, but now I know it's something worse. You want the whole story? I think I got most of it down, I just need the end of it... here we all go. The first laptop computer was created in 1981. The Osborne 1 used the Zilog Z80 and weighed 23.6 pounds (10.7 kg). It had no battery, a 5 in (13 cm) CRT screen, and dual 5.25 in (13.3 cm) single-density floppy drives. In the same year the first laptop-sized portable computer, the Epson HX-20, was announced. Did you know that people didn't start using the term "smartphone" until 1995, but the first true smartphone actually made its debut three years earlier in 1992. It was called the Simon Personal Communicator, and it was created by IBM more than 15 years before Apple released the iPhone? Bet'cha didn't, because they didn't want you too.
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Jake kept strolling, mumbling to himself with his hands in the pockets of his ratty, dirty jeans. As if they weren't sponsored enough, there was yet another huge ad about the newest release of a smartphone. He honestly didn't pay too much attention to it, until he looked at the store around him. It was completely surrounded by millenials, plastered against the glass like zombies in those stupid SyFy shows out there on the web. At each entrance, there were actually guards, police guards. Not just normal cops, they were completely decked out in body armour and armed to the teeth. Jake approached closer, squinting in confusion. The doors opened and they all trampled each other to get inside, buying all the "best deals" that were advertised. Jake shook his head in disbelief and kept walking.
"What a bunch of nutcases... how important do they really think they are?" He snorted, lazing his way down the street. Jake heard something in an alleyway and his head darted in it's direction. There was someone actually collecting phones, some hippy-looking freak with a ski cap and scraggly beard. He was shouting some deranged nonsense about how there were aliens in the sky and God doesn't love us or something weird like that. Jake paid no attention to it, knowing that there were many homeless and unstable around. The guy, in front of him, was a big box, meant to collect phones off of passerbys. Jake once again shrugged to himself, still paying no mind to it. For some reason, he decided to stay and keep looking. The guards slowly turned around, swiveling on their feet as they peered at the hobo through their visors. Jake felt that something was very wrong.
Like ghouls finding a meal, the guards slowly close around the beatnik without him ever knowing. Jake wanted to tell him, scream out to him to look behind him but it really was too late. They grabbed him, and the homeless man screamed as they yanked his hair out, dragging him supposedly out of sight. Jake could still peer down into the depths of it. These... mechanical guards pinned him against the wall, and collectively beat him down with fists and billy clubs. Jake stared in disbelief, covering his mouth as his eyes widened. They pummeled him, trampled the poor fool to death. After a few moments of staring down at what used to be the protester and moving him into a convenient place to hide the body, the guards slowly turned around to leave.
Jake slowly backed up, until his back touched the guardrail. They stared at him for a moment, their faces hidden behind the thick glass of their raid helmets.
"Uuuuh... hello handsome~!" Jake grinned, giving a quick thumbs-up. They didn't move. "How you doin'?" Still, they did nothing. "Oh crap..." Jake took off running and they sprinted after him. Jake was honestly afraid, he hadn't felt this way in a long time. Whoever these people were, they were hot on his trail and they had their guns drawn. Bullets pattered all around him, Jake diving over cars and running through alleyways. Jake hid, covering his mouth and holding his breath. They skidded to a halt, looking around and searching for their witness. Oh God please... Dad, if you can hear me, please help... They got closer and closer, almost discovering him. Jake bolted, knowing he was soon to be found. The guards snatched onto him immediately, continuing the chase. Jake leaped over a fence, covered in dirt and sweat. He lost them, thankfully. Jake panted, limping a little as he slumped down beneath a large bridge, the cold water running past his legs. The sun went down, and finally he dozed off.
