20 Years of Hell - Chapter 1

         The sun's almost down, I'll have to move soon.  I can only move at night to avoid detection.  The trip to West Chester is over ninety miles, this could take me over a month.  And when I get there, will they still be there?  Or will the cops and the military have them rounded up and put in the camps with the others.
         The streets are littered with police and military units.  It's been twenty years since the president declared war on terror.  Now we see that this was a war of terror.  A way to scare citizens into giving up their liberties one by one until they became slaves to a ruthless tyrant.
         Just like Hitler's Holocaust, people are being arrested one by one for being what they call “security threats.”  Some are put in prison, some are put in camps, and a lucky few are executed.  Then theres us.  The few citizens that haven't been targeted yet, the number keeps dropping every day.  And of those, there is an even smaller number trying to escape.
         A small group of fearless individuals have started a resistance movement in West Chester.  They are helping people to escape to the Canadian border.  Acting as a modern age Harriet Tubman, they have created an Underground Railroad of sorts.  It's a long trip with many dangers on the way, but I would rather die than continue to live in this police state.
         The next patrol should be coming by soon.  I should probably get my shit and get ready to move out.  And to think, this all started only twenty years ago.

*          *          *

         It was a mild September morning, I was only sixteen at the time.  I was sitting in my high school Government class watching a movie.  Lord of the Flies of all things.  Out of nowhere, another teacher rushes into the room and yells, “Turn on CNN!  There's been an accident!”
         My teacher did as he was told and there, on the television mounted to the front wall of the classroom, we could see one of the towers at the World Trade Center on fire.  It appeared that a commercial airliner had been flying too low and crashed into the tower.  As we looked on with amazement, a second plane crashed into the second tower.
         This is no accident, I thought to myself.  By this point, I'm sure everybody else knew it too.  The looks on their faces, their quiet expressions.  You could see the fear in their eyes.
         As the day continued, more reports started to come in.  The planes were hijacked by members of Al-Qaeda, a terrorist network in the Middle East.  Two other planes had been hijacked as well.  One crashed into the pentagon while the other crashed into a field in Pennsylvania.
         As I walked the halls I remember seeing students crying, but I don't cry in public.  I saw students praying, but I don't pray in public.  So I just walked the halls to my next class, lost in thought.
         This all seems like a bad dream, I remember thinking.  But it wasn't a dream, it was real.  The burning bodies, people falling from the sky.  It was all too real.  And it was all just the beginning.
         The rest of the day was a blur to me.  As a matter of fact, I don't remember anything from then until the bombs started falling.  The President had decided to bomb Afghanistan, the supposed home of the terrorist.
         So the “facts” had started to come in and apparently Osama Bin Laden was in charge of the attack.  The Afghani's wouldn't give him up, so we started to bomb the shit out of them.
         I remember seeing some of these “facts” and thinking to myself, This is such bullshit!  How could this have survived the crash?  Why did the towers fall so quickly?  There must be something more going on here, something those bastards in Washington don't want us to know about.
         In a time where everybody else was Mr. And Mrs. Gung Ho Patriot, I was still asking questions.  I just couldn't believe everything they were telling us.  The Government had lied to us in the past, what would stop them from doing so now?  And we all know the media is owned by the Government, and the Government is owned by big corporations, just like a pimp and his whores.  So the corporations tell the Government what to do and the Government tells the media what to say.  Its been like that for as long as I can remember, and it will be like that till the end of time.  Unless a few good, strong people can rise up and take back what's ours.
         The terrorist still wouldn't give up, so the President sent in the troops.  I went down to Washington with a few other to protest.  Apparently, we weren't the only ones with this idea.  As a matter of fact, over five thousand people showed up to protest the President's move that day.
         And it just got worse from there.  Years went by and the President found more countries to invade.  He called them “terrorist nations.”  But these nations hadn't done anything to provoke the invasions.  First came Iraq, then Iran, soon we were at war the middle east, period.

*          *          *

         The last patrol has gone by, it's time for me to leave.  I have my face painted and my camo gear on.  I can't carry too much with me, so all I have is a few necessities in a black backpack.  Things like food, bottled water, and a small amount of cash.  And I can't forget my cigarettes, I don't know when I'll be able to buy another pack.
         The air is a bit nippy tonight, I should have brought a jacket or something to keep me warm.  It's too late now, I have to move.  I round the side of the large apartment building made out of brick.  I'll have to avoid the street lights and make it to the woods before the next patrol comes by.
         They seem to come by every half hour.  An army tank with soldiers marching beside it.  A small truck with a few soldiers in the back.  I remember seeing this on CNN back during the “War on Terror.”  Now most of the television stations have been shut down and they don't show us very much on the news.
         I crouch down and make my way stealthily to the woods.  I just hope they don't make patrols out here.  I'd hate to have a run in with those bastards while I'm trying to sleep or something.  Ah sleep, I haven't gotten much of that in a while.  And something makes me think I still won't be getting much.