Dystopia

Reads: 752  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 9

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A futuristic world where metal men have taken over. Meat is rare and many are in danger of dieing.

Submitted: September 11, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 11, 2009

A A A

A A A


Madeline Dostal
Honors 1
Ms. Demello
9th September 2009
Dystopia
Meat was a rare delicacy in our small village. Ever since the fall of the government we have had to find our own food. Fortunately enough we have assigned jobs. We have survived this long, which is longer than many less fortunate villages near us. Many died out long ago. Just yesterday, our scouts came back saying that the village (a day’s walk away from us) has been taken over by the Isman, the bad ones, the evil ones. They are the metal men that took over the government long ago. Now they roam the land that used to be America searching for people like us, the ones that survived. Because of this, we live in fear. No one travels to hunt, thus the lack of meat. We have but a small stream near us, thus the lack of water. We have nothing, nothing but the people in our family who are still here.
Now we stand in a large circle around the fire, with the chief in the middle, thanking the hunters. The rest of us clench our fists trying to wait patiently, but our mouths water, our instincts tell us to go, eat. But we cannot eat. We must wait. If we do not, we are killed by an arrow through the heart. I look from side to side, there are the guards, standing with their bows at the ready. I can feel my nails digging into my palms.
My little sister pulls on my plain, muddy dress. “When can we eat, Hope, when can we eat? I’m hungry!”
“I know, Lily, I’m hungry too. But we have to thank the warriors for their work first,” I say, “It will not take long I promise”
She looks longingly at the meat roasting over the fire. I must not be the only one who can smell the juiciness, the sweetness of it. I am jealous of the fire as it reaches up to lick it. I take Lily’s hand in mine. A gust of wind hits us, and I can feel her nails digging into my hand. I wish to stop the pain in her stomach. I wish to ease the sharp sting of hunger’s bite. I know how hard it is to be her age and want, but not get. I want to reach out and get the meat and give it to her, to soothe the pain. I cannot. I must not. I will not make the same mistake my parents did. I will not leave Lily with no one.
I look at my brother, John, on the left of me. His eyes are also filled with hunger. I take his hand also. Though he is older by three years, I have to control him. I look in all the faces of the hungry villagers. Young and old the pain is the same. Kids and women and men I have known for as long as I can remember.
It hasn’t always been this way. I’m sad to say I do not know this from personal experience. I was merely three when they came, the metal men. The government thought they’d help us. They thought the metal men would make us better. Instead they killed off half the population. They are now known as the Isman, the ones who took out our neighboring tribe. Who knows when they’ll find us? Right now, I’m worried about food, that’s all.
Chief is now praying for the food to grant us energy, and keep us living. Another gust of wind hits us. John squeezes my hand and lunges forward. I throw my arm across him to hold him back. He snaps back to reality. “Thanks.” He says through clenched teeth.
Unfortunately, someone else isn’t as controlled as we. Someone pushes past us, in a hurry to get to the food. I realize it’s a boy my age, a boy I’ve known since I was six months. “Ben, no!” I shout.
He cannot hear me over the hunger ringing in his ears. He runs up to the meat, interrupting the service. We are silent. We know there is no way to stop it now. He tears a chunk of meat off with his hands, and savors in his mouth. My mouth waters. My feet tell me to move, my mind holds them back. Ben realizes what he has done. He stops eating as an arrow hits him in the chest.
I watch helplessly as he falls forward to his knees, then all the way forward.
“Ben.” I whimper. Ben is no longer here.
John turns and wraps his arms around me, I try to escape, to go save him, but that would only result in death to me as well. The ritual continues, as though an innocent boy has not died two minutes ago. Men from our village take Ben’s body away. The smell of meat no longer appeals to me. My stomach churns at the thought of it. I give my ration to John and Lily.
I tread back to my shelter, wiping my eyes on the back of the sleeve on my dress. I pick of the small white stoned next to my sleeping set and take a deep breath. I write Ben’s name underneath a list of 23 others, including my mother, father, and baby brother. Then I huddle into my corner to sleep and dream of a utopia.


© Copyright 2018 Maddieladdie. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Science Fiction Short Stories