Short Stories

by Simon Hallas


My ‘Distopia’

This place, this horrible place, used to be one of the most beautiful islands on the entire planet. Unfortunately until the water started rising, of course. The water rose over thirty meters. This ruined the island, it ruined life, and it ruined my life. Global warming had damaged the world’s seasons, and currently the weather was quite chilly as the water current had cooled down the area. I live on a metallic island. People from different islands decided to invade and take over the island I consider as my home. They call themselves the “leaders”. They are horrible people who use violence, who only care about people with their pockets full. These people have taken everything away from us. All of our privileges. They have taken our freedom, they have made people hate each other and they are splitting people into groups. Blues and greens are split up. Any person with a blue badge, are thrown onto the left side of the islands’ district, where it’s pretty much like a slum. The green badgers are put onto the right side, where things are a little bit better, but only a bit. Now, in my so called “world”, we don’t have the same currency as the world had before the natural disaster, or catastrophe. Our currency is fish, metal and oil. All these things create our money, our currency and our values. These are very limited and they are almost impossible to find. Some people, who don’t have any money, can use their body parts as a currency, only to get one of the three things used in the economy presently. The guardians of the island will take these body parts, and they will throw them to the zombies. Every year, when a fraction of the population turns sixty, they are thrown into a cage full of zombies. This is to stop the island from over population, as land is limited. The zombies have the right to eat these innocent sixty year olds. Is any of this right…? After the zombies have been eating, or ripping these innocent people apart, they are set back on land as guards for another year to go. Any sign of a living creature will be slaughtered by these vicious predators.

My whole life, I have been watching people getting thrown into cages and being ripped into pieces for fifty-nine years. They call it a privilege, to see what happens. I would barely call it a privilege as it’s wrong, but I cannot do anything to stop it. Tomorrow is the big day, and six months before the day residents get thrown into prison so that there is no possible way to escape the island, even though if the plan went wrong they would still get eaten. I hear a knock on the door, and as the guard comes into the cell with a tray of food, he drops the food on the cold, stone floor leaving the food completely ruined and unpleasant to eat. I was still very hungry, and I could start feeling back pains. This year my birthday gift would be to get thrown into a metallic cage, only to the sight of an ugly creature about to tear my existence apart. After a few days, I hear a key unlocking my cell as two guards rush into the cell and grab my body as if it is a feather, or a paper. As I get tossed around like a rag doll inside the unpleasant jail, they pull me outside to the fenced harbour. I can feel my knees have been skinned while being dragged along the concrete floors. My knees are stinging. There is a big open cage in front of my bare feet. As I take my last breath, I felt a sudden pain going through my body, and as I began to close my eyes from the disaster I knew would approach me, I knew it was the end


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