The Day The World Burned

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
The dystopian future of Britain showing the potential effects of implementing certain political policies. The effects are on both individuals and the country as a whole.

Submitted: May 30, 2017

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Submitted: May 30, 2017

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John turned off the TV, he had been watching the news. He then got up and went into the kitchen, pulled the blinds open and stood, staring out of the window.
"Another bombing, third one this week." John said to himself, he hated the changes that the leader had made and the problems those changes had caused.
Still looking out of the window, John watched as a gang of six young thugs beat an old woman to the ground. He watched as the woman begged for mercy, eventually accepting her fate and laying still, taking the hits.
The woman moved her head slightly, just enough for John to see her eyes. She could also see him. She mouthed the word help before one of the thugs plunged a knife into her chest.
Someone in the group must have seen which way she had been looking, followed her gaze and spotted John.
As three of the band of thugs started to make their way towards John's house, he closed the blinds, opened a drawer and grabbed a knife.
Seconds later, John heard the smash of glass as a rock came through one of his windows, this noise was repeated a few times. There was then a series of loud bangs coming from the direction of the front door and an almighty crash as it burst open.
 
The city was rife with crime and violence was top of the list, every few minutes there was an assault or murder going on somewhere. It was no different out in the country either, the whole of Britain had succumbed to the violent outbursts that plagued the once great nation.
There was no-one to stop it anymore, the leader had banned all weapons. There was no army, no militia and the police couldn't defend themselves, nevermind other people.
 

Charlotte sat at the bar, she'd been sat there for three days. She had no home to return to, she had fallen behind on the mortgage repayments and the bank had seized her property.
Charlotte had worked for a bakery near a school, the children used to love the iced buns. They turned up with money whenever they had it, the smiles on their faces left a mark on her heart.
The bakery was a small, independent business and when the leader raised business taxes, the business couldn't survive so Charlotte lost her job when the place closed its doors for the very last time.
After losing her job, Charlotte fought with her husband more and more until he finally resorted to leaving her.
Without the support and income of her husband, the debts became too much and Charlotte fell into a deep depression, eventually spending her time in a pub, drinking to forget.
Another woman strolled in and took the seat next to Charlotte.
"Lost my job." The woman said.
"But you worked for a massive, international tech corporation." Charlotte replied, astonished and surprised.
"Business tax made them leave the country." Was the woman's final statement before ordering a drink, to drink to forget.
 
The businesses had all gone, the big ones didn't want to lose their profits and the smaller ones couldn't afford to run with the tax rise and the rise in minimum wage.
The leader had raised taxes on the rich and businesses which drove both away and at the same time had raised the minimum wage which although good for workers, irrepairably damaged businesses.
 

At the dump a dustman was emptying out a bin wagon.
Flags, banners and any other memorabelia to do with patriotism or the royal family had been thrown out when the Queen had lost her job. Whole landfill sites had been created just to accommodate the unexpected waste, some had been recycled but most had ended up in the dumps.
Money had been burned as well, all pictures of any royal family had to be destroyed.
Then the corpses fell out of the wagon. Two bodies, mangled and twisted by the wagon's crusher mechanism.
The NHS had had a budget crisis and was forced to start closing hospitals and charging for health care. The numerous sick and dying meant pestilence had become a major problem again.
Nobody could afford a proper funeral either so bodies were just bundled into bins and dustmen had started moonlighting as undertakers as a result.
 
The monarchy had been abolished and all patriotism had been banned. Big business leaving meant that less money was gained from taxes so there was less to fund institutions such as the NHS.
The leader tried to raise money by raising income tax but at the rate people were losing their jobs, nobody could afford much more than food.
 

Another rejection Biraj thought to himself, my degree is pointless.
Biraj had spent the last few years going to university, he had studied advanced computer sciences and had finished his course debt free. Only now, he couldn't get a job because he didn't have enough work exprerience to impress prospective employers.
He couldn't get any money so couldn't afford to buy or rent accommodation of any kind and he couldn't pay board money to live with his parents so he was homeless, hungry and starting to smell as he hadn't had a wash in days because the river had been taken over by a violent gang.
Income tax had also gone up so the best jobs were the ones that paid so little that tax didn't apply, those jobs ended up with people having more money than better paid workers who were taxed into oblivion.
 
University fees had been removed, this devalued degrees as everyone could have one, making enthusiastic, motivated people the last choice for employment as employers thought they had avoided full time work through laziness.
The leader had had to pay for free university with government money so income tax went up even higher.
 

The planes flew overhead. Backwards and forwards they went, scouting the area for threats. These planes were fighters designed for quick dodges incase AA guns started firing.
Once they had seen that there were no threats on the ground, the fighters fell back, allowing the huge bomber planes to fill the sky.
Flags of countries were painted on the wings of the planes, every country rich enough to afford a bomber had joined in.
The bombs started to drop, conventional weapons at first, explosives and napalm turning the whole of Britain into a scene that resembled the bombing of Dresden but this soon changed to chemical weapons and nuclear bombs.
The aim was to destroy Britain, to purge the land so that people could start again and take Britain from the state it was now in - an economically unstable hub for criminals, violence and terrorists - back to the glorious nation that it once was. Everyone would have to die for a new beginning.
 
Britain had no weapons, no way of defending itself from the aerial onslaught and didn't have the money in the economy needed to barter peace or alliances.
The leader had turned the place where everyone could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted which had caused a rise in hate crimes and eventually retaliation which could easily have turned into a civil war.
The rest of the world knew that destruction was the only solution.
 

But without Britain's prescence on the world stage, the other countries became less trusting of one another and after pressing the nuclear buttons once, they were more comfortable doing it again.
Smoke and fire filled the whole world as superpowers and poorer nations set to work blasting everything they had at each other.
Everything, everywhere was destroyed, burned to ashes by the devestation of the bombs. Some places were left completely uninhabitable because of radiation left by the nukes.
What survivors there were soon died of starvation and dehydration, they had nothing they could consume which had low enough radiation levels not to kill them outright, so they had chosen not to eat or drink, giving them a few more days to live in the wasteland that the world had become.
 
All that was left to show that life had ever had a place on earth were corpses and scorched earth.
The day that Britain was destroyed had proven to be the day the world burned.


© Copyright 2017 Lucas Barstow. All rights reserved.

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