Yeah, what the title says. I love to write, I just really wish more people loved to read. It's depressing how many people just despise reading and anything to do with books! I need someone to read my stuff and tell me if it's weird or funny or really inspirational or just plain freaky or if I need to consider another line of work! D: Anybody out there want to be my official "taste tester"? Please??
Okay..anywho.. another weird little blurb that I wrote for CWG. As usual, comments welcome.
We are a people without a country. We live everyday wondering whether or not we will live to see tomorrow. Ever since that scientist Carl Silentia experimented with the plant life here, we have been cut off from the rest of society, considered nothing more than casualties. It started with the unexplained deaths at the Silent Point, previously Omaha, the capital of the former state of Nebraska. Hundreds had suddenly died at 9:27 am August 16th; there were no explanations, no calm investigations, only instant panic, and a single surviving scientist standing in the midst of it all.
No one bothered to ask any questions; they simply quarantined the area along with a 100 mile radius of populated land, and told us to stay where we were until further instructed. It wasn’t long before they broadcasted a newscast declaring to the nation of America that our area, callously dubbed Silentia by the media, was a hopeless cause. About a week afterwards, we received news that they were building a wall around our “hopeless cause” that was to be guarded around the clock, so that nothing and no one could get in or out.
Soon after that, our power was cut off. There were no delivery trucks coming in to bring us food, water, or fuel. We were abandoned by our own people and left to fend for ourselves. We knew just as much as they did about the Silent Point and the deaths, yet in running safely away from their fear, they left us to face it on our own. We drew together in our common cause, the few of us that were left. They no longer call us Americans; before the communications died, they referred to us as the “Silentians”.
In the past few years our small group of fifteen has found more survivors of the Point Effect, the occurrence, the unknown cause of death that struck us. It has only happened three times in the past ten years; once when Carl Silentia doomed us all, the second time was five days after the initial Point, which wiped out most of the population of the 100 mile radius, and the third time was three years ago, when we had managed to build a new, independent society. The third Point only killed a select few, but still rattled us and made us realize that we were far from being safe from the danger. The worst part was that we knew nothing of our invisible enemy, that we have no way or means of striking back, or even defending ourselves.
We struggle to live our lives everyday, and find ourselves looking over our shoulders in fear. Some of out children have not known freedom from the clutches of fear; they have not been able to know what being safe is. We have known nothing of the outside world, which used to be proud to call us their brothers and sisters, but rejected us at a moment’s notice. We have all lost some family, some have lost all family. Those of us who remain hope and pray that we aren’t the last generation; we hope that we will be the ones who survive until the end. We are a people without a country, a world without a purpose.
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