Hi. I’m Bob Will. I was born September 1st, 2042. I live with my parents, and my brother. We live in what was formerly known as the United States of America. No one knows what the new government is called, and no one knows what they’re capable of. Some people followed the rules given to us, but others, like my family, refuse to sit still.
We don’t know our rights, who is passing the laws, why it even happened, or what to call them.
16 years ago, on July 4th, 2042 (ironic, right?) this new government (if you could even call it that) suddenly appeared from thin air and told us that the US Constitution was dissolved and we would be citizens of a new government.
I wasn’t around for it, but this, as you might suspect, caused major chaos. Suddenly the new government (I’ll refer to it “They” or “Them” from now on) started to evacuate cities and rebuild them, almost overnight, and soon the entire country was now theirs.
There were protests, of course, but soon laws were posted in public places with holopaper (an invention that allowed a document to be updated in multiple places at once through the use of holograms).
These laws caused an uproar from the beginning, including laws such as “No citizen of the government shall protest against the government”. However, these were soon quieted after the punishment of the law stated above was administered.
The punishment stated that “any citizen who dares protest against the newly founded government shall be executed and all legal documents relating to the person or persons (including their will, their citizenship, and other documents) shall be destroyed.
All their belongings will immediately go to the government”. My grandpa was among one of the first to be executed. I never will see his execution, his picture, or his art, but most of all, I will never know who he was. I’ll never meet him. I originally was named Westley Hared Will.
Westley was my grandfather’s name, and Hared was a mix of my uncles’ names–Harman and Rashed. But since they were executed, my parents hastily changed my name to something more generic to protect me–Bob Will. Now, I’m 16, and it’s the year 2058.
It was a cool September day in 2058. Everything was tranquil, and everyone was going about their daily lives. The day was a beautiful day, it was bright, sunny, and the sky was devoid of clouds. Everyone was enjoying the holiday, after all, September 2nd is Labor Day. The day was great–that is, until I came along.
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