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What if I told you, creativity is illegal? Yellow t-shirts, purple shorts, red sneakers: jail time. Xbox 360, Temple Run, Black Ops? It's been almost fifty years since they were on sale.
What if I told you, there's a resistance? My group, the Creators, we're the top twelve most wanted criminals. We are rebels, and we are the voice of the people.
What if I told you, the rebels were the good guys? View table of contents...


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Submitted:May 29, 2013    Reads: 120    Comments: 19    Likes: 14   


Hot-wiring the 2099 convertible grey Mustang was too easy; I was improving faster than I thought. The repulsive sound of police sirens started to nag at my ears, so I checked the rearview mirror to spot red and blue flashing lights advancing in my direction. I didn't even need to think about what to do next, instincts took over.

Putting the Mustang into drive, my right leg nearly pushed the gas petal into the car as I attempted to maneuver not only through traffic, but away from the cops. A grey Nissan nearly smashed into the front of my car as I tried to drive down the left side of the road. Geez, some people. All I'm doing is borrowing the illegal side of the road for like 3 seconds and they freak out. Take a chill pill lady.

Already at seventy-five miles per hour, I swerved around my first block nearly getting hit by another angry lady in an awkward black BMW. Transitioning from one block to another went smoothly for me - more or less; however, two of the four cops didn't even make it past the corner. One swerved out of control and drove halfway into 'Greyson's Grey-ate Dinner'. The second officer made a sharp turn in the wrong direction to avoid running over a man in a grey suit, and that police car hit the side of the town's most popular clothing corner store, 'Nothing But Grey'.

Knowing what my next move was, I drove five more blocks past Grey Street and Blackout Avenue until I reached the entrance to a subway station. I parked the car on the main road dead smack in front of the subway entrance, practically jumped out of the passenger door, and then dived into some bushes a few feet away.

A minute later, the backup police arrived. Just as I suspected, they took the bait. Believing I went below ground to catch the subway train that departed in exactly one minute for Downtown Atieno, the police stampeded down into the subway. If everything goes as I planned, they'll get on the train, thinking I'm on it, and they'll be on their way about fifteen miles away from here.

About ten minutes later when the coast was clear, I calmly strolled out of that annoying bush, made my way back to the Mustang as if I had all the time in the world, hopped into the driver's seat, and drove back to HQ with the tunes of the illegal music I downloaded onto my illegal MP3 player.

Chapter 1

Once again, Ace out smarts the cops. I had assumed they acknowledged my criminal expertise by now, but I was sadly mistaken. Oh well, maybe next time I'll have an actual pursuit instead of playing hide-and-seek.

A few minutes later, I pulled off to the side of the road so I could do my cover up. I neatly took my coffee brown hair and tucked it underneath a long, blond wig with light brown highlights. Carefully, I put on some sky blue contacts over my golden brown eyes. After whipping my arms around to get out of the sleeves, I turned my royal blue jacket inside-out so that it reflected a cream white hue. After tucking in my "ROYGBIV" t-shirt, I put the jacket back on. I loved two sided jackets. The weather wasn't chilly or anything; I just needed some extra pockets. Once I kicked off my Nike sneakers and tucked my worn and torn socks into my pocket, I slipped on a clean pair of baby blue flip-flops.

I studied my reflection in the car mirror and concluded that I looked nothing like my original self, perfect. See, the identities of my group members remains unknown to the whole world. Not even the group members can identify any of the other members' secret identities. We might know some of our disguises, but not who we really are. We can't let anyone know who we are, we are rebels.

Rebels never succeed at anything if the police know who you are.

See, this town has been misled to where everything is about business, there's no creativity or imagination what so ever. Just numbers, facts, grey, black, and white. No color, nor rainbows, no toys nor games. Hologram Sports Unlimited? Xbox 360? Please, you'd be lucky if you can find PAC-MAN or a game card for GameBoy Advance SP, much less the latest Black Ops. Unless you're a rebel of course. Now that I think about it, the guys stole a copy of Halo 21 the other day … anyways.

The only real colors that are visible on the streets were police sirens, officers' uniforms (ugly colors might I add), and rebels' clothing. We're not going to follow stupid laws, especially one for no color. That's one of the reasons why my group and I exist as The Creators. But to the cops, we are known as the top twelve most wanted rebels. We are the ones who get people rallied up and create new rebels to help join the fight. To me, it is kind of more fun to be known as a criminal than a rebel. The title "Rebel" has been so mainstream the way we've been mass-producing them.

Once I was completely satisfied with my cover up, I put the car back into drive, and continued back to HQ. It didn't take long to get there. I parked the car two blocks away from HQ, and from there I ... well I can't tell you. That's classified information I can't just go sharing willy nillingly with the whole free world.

But, I can tell you about our plan we discussed while at HQ.

*A/N: Please don't forget to leave a comment!*

All contructive critisim, feedback, and reviews are welcomed! Thanks for reading(:

~ Sixella ~


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