Target Generation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A conspiracy begins.

Submitted: December 10, 2009

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Submitted: December 10, 2009

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"They’re targeting the teenagers," I whispered to Sann. "They’re wiping out the generation that their mind tricks and shit won’t work on. This thing they’ve made, this drug– it basically brainwashes you. I saw the tests. But it doesn’t work on us, on teenagers, because our brains are like plastic still. They could change our brains to be the way they want them, but it wouldn’t last. So they’ve got to get rid of us."
"Every teenager? Dee, how are they going to do that?"
"The high schools," I replied.
"What?" Sann hissed.
"They’re going to bomb the high schools."
"But what about the teachers?"
"Small price to pay."
"And the children? Little kids–"
"Are easily re-taught. Rehabilitated. They’d never know anything different. Or at least, they wouldn’t remember. Or their memories would be skewed."
"Okay, so we get fake Ids. Easy enough."
I rolled my eyes and sighed. That was such a typically Sann reaction.
"No, Sann. Not easy enough. "They’ve got the census information– which means that they know our names, our addresses, who our parents are. Mainly, it means that they know our real ages. They know our birthdays. And if we fall under the wrong birth year, they kill us off. It starts with 1989, Sann. Then 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, and 96. We’re a dead generation, Sann– most of us just don’t know it yet."
"Apocalypse, then." Sann tried for a joke, but her eyes were going wide and blank as she digested what I had told her. The shock was setting in.
"We’re all going to die, Sann, unless we do something about it."
"Something like what?!" Sann’s whispered shriek revealed her panic.
"Start rumours," I told her. "You’re good at that." Grinning, I took my exit in the wake of the expression of guilt that appeared on Sann’s face, jumping out her window and running home. I spent the rest of the night on the internet.


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