Hexante

The Death of Hector

Spring in New York was brutal: unrelenting like the winter and unforgiving like the summer. The trees lining the streets sprouted from the ground like spindly skeletons reaching for the skies. The snow that had fallen days before had long since melted, leaving behind puddles of varying sizes on the sidewalks and potholes in the street. A faint musty scent flooded the streets, resembling wet asphalt. Unlike every other day of the year in New York, the streets were abandoned, the only sounds echoing through the neighborhood being the birds and insects in the trees and grass.

Despite the heavy coat hanging off his shoulders, the cold still bit into the boy's limbs as he walked along the long-abandoned streets towards his home. Although they weren't living in the city, he'd never experienced this level of "quiet" before in his neighborhood. Curiously, he turned his bicolored eyes up to the windows of the house he was currently passing. Before he could catch a glimpse of his neighbor, the curtains shut frantically. The other windows of the house and other houses alike had put up boards over their windows and probably had high-tech security systems to keep unwanted visitors out. Chuckling, he continued along his way, allowing himself to get lost in thought and whistle a little tune.

Today was March 21st, 2017, what would soon be known as Purge Day. As of last year, the New Founding Fathers of America implemented the 28th Amendment, introducing the nation to the Purge, also known as a day where all crime was legal, including murder. Enthusiasts tended to justify this by throwing statistics regarding homelessness, unemployment, and economic growth at people who knew no better. It was an easy tactic and one that Hector could easily dismantle as he walked through his neighborhood. Not that he was complaining: his one and only friend at school had plans with him to head out to the local game store and steal as much merchandise as they could carry.

A quiet thunk and squawk snapped him out of his thoughts. Before him on the curb lay a small bird, it's wings clearly not developed enough to get back to its nest. Hector approached carefully and crouched down by the bird. Its chest thumped heavily and frequently.

"Looks like you're in quite the predicament, aren't you, little bird?" Hector said calmly. "Sorry, I can't help you. I have to rush home."

Hector stood back up and, without hesitation, took his first step directly on the bird's head, it's skull crunching under his boot like a large chickpea, the satisfying crunch making his lip turn up. He continued the walk to his house in beautifully peaceful silence. His house — a painfully dull white two-story suburban home — came into sight at the end of the cul-de-sac as his phone chimed 6:50pm. Hector opened the oak door to his house a full five minutes later. He had just slipped his shoes off when another squawk came from the living room.

"Where have you been?" His mother shouted. "You shouldn't cut it so close, especially not today."

Hector didn't bother responding, just took his socks and coat off and headed to the living room where his family sat around the table and stared unblinking at the television. It was only then did he feel underdressed in his white shirt and torn-up jeans. His brothers and father wore button-up shirts and his sister and mother were wearing flowy knee-length dresses. Shrugging internally, Hector sat down by his youngest brother, Michael, and stared at the blank blue screen until the grandfather clock by the door chimed seven times and the emergency broadcast system blinked alive, screaming its sirens three times before a woman began to speak.

"This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government."

A feminine voice began monologuing about the Purge and the rules. Hector zoned out while she droned on and took this time to gauge his family's reactions. His eldest sibling — Frank — fixed his eyes in a hard glare at the screen across from him, his lips sealed tightly together. His older sister — Donna — sat next to him and grimaced when the woman mentioned the temporary legalization of murder. Michael and his mother looked about to cry and it only made Hector roll his eyes dramatically. His father frowned deeply and turned his attention to his phone, no doubt activating their own state-of-the-art security system. Hector returned his gaze to the screen.

"Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."

Sirens rang through the television and echoed outside in the streets. While Michael cried loudly about the beginning of what very well could be the end of his very short life, Hector couldn't help but admire the effort the government put into making the Purge appear as frightening as they could make it. The sirens continued to blare as his mother ushered him and his siblings into their basement.

The basement was a small room through a door in their kitchen leading down a flight of stairs. The grey carpet had just been put in and his father had only recently finished up the tile and plumbing in the bathroom in the corner of the room. His parents planned on turning it into an extra bedroom of sorts which Hector instantly claimed as his. He couldn't wait to redecorate.

The siblings and mother huddled together in a corner as Hector and his father locked the door to the basement and turned off all the lights. As his father joined the family cuddle pile, Hector couldn't help but roll his eyes once more and find himself a nice comfortable spot in the opposite corner across from the family's old storage closet. He grabbed a blanket from the closet, knocking over a few items in the process and scaring Michael again and, pointedly ignoring his mother scolding him for the fright, he tucked himself into a ball and promptly fell asleep, dreaming of a day when Saw would be a reality TV show.