Malcolm

part 1

Malcolm walked down the boulevard, wrapping his coat closer around him, pursing his lips at the biting cold. His stride was tired and gave the impression of melancholy, which was better affirmed when he did not attempt to avoid trudging through a puddle that had collected in the street. The bombed-out building cast twisted and warped skeletal shadows across Malcolms' path, though he did not notice them; they no longer caught his fearful attention, neither fazing him nor stealing even a minuscule reaction. A street lamp sputtered through the mist for a moment, and Malcolm stopped tilting his unseeing gaze in the direction of the disturbance as he let his mind wander. It was not unusual for him to walk home feeling as if he wanted to explode and tear the cesspool of capitalism he lived in apart. He continued onwards after a moment, and lowering his head in a slouch, he plodded onwards. Each step was taxing, and his mind did not better the situation. He thought of the cruelties of capitalism and how the great nation in which he dwelt was guilty of crimes far more significant than those they "punished" other nations for, primarily socialism, the greatest fear of the United States Of America. He grimaced to himself, the thought of the government nauseated him; he was in a state of perpetual nausea.

Video cameras followed him as he strolled through the pollution and mist; It was not uncommon for the government to spy on its' citizens. The government was not kind to its citizens much less tolerable of behavior that had been deemed "proggressive" by the central committee of the judiciary participants, in pre-american-totalitarianistic rule the judicial branch of government. Malcolm was well aware of the presence of the cameras though he made no sign acknowledging their presence. It would be foolhardy to look towards the camera, the government would be notified of your awareness of the totalitarian practices, and though they did not deny whether or not their practices and methods of control were morally justifiable, those who had the bravery and stupidity to challenge the government often disappeared to be found dead in some lonely sewer, dangerous amounts of Dredd Crack in their blood. The government employed many questionable techniques to control their subjects, and to Malcolm's great sadness, he had stumbled across records of some of the most nefarious. He had always possessed a high self awareness and awareness of what went on around him, and as such he became a journalist, though in the time of his parents, that profession had very different connotations. By the time Malcolm was ready for college, a journalist had morphed into a propaganda spewing machine, praising the government whenever they could. Malcolm, even as a child, had searched for truth and was honest even when he was not clearly at fault, and could have easily gotten away with lying. His honesty much to the worry of his parents had landed him in constant trouble. In time he had learned to hide his honesty by remaining quiet and he had adopted an introverted persona to conceal his detrimental truthfulness. It saddened him that the right that defined the nation in its heyday had become riddled with holes of hypocrisy and fake.

Malcolm reached his town house, a single timid looking building, alone among the ruins of old buildings. Why the government bombed their own citizens was beyond Malcolm. Technically, he understood their motives, but why they harboured those motives made Malcolm want to retreat into the sanctity of his mind and forget the world around him. According to the government, socialists (or as were referred to by the actual news reporters, commies) were infiltrating from everywhere that wasn't america, such as canada and china, and destroying the 'great nation' from within. And as such, they bombed. Malcolm had different suspicions, though he rarely dared voice them; he thought that they were instilling fear upon the citizenry so as to prevent revolt.