It started raining, and the hope seemed to have drained out of everyone. For once, the children sat quietly, tears streaming down their cheeks. Officers of all departments, fire, police, and even medics rushed around, giving everyone blankets, food, and water. It seemed pointless, firemen with water hoses extinguishing an already dying flame. In only rare instances, where death was draped over the whole city, did the medics come. Surrounding the city’s enclosures, radicals held signs, brandishing the flag of the Sedition. Emerging from the wall of smoke and flame came a child, alone and calling for another.
“Dante?” her voice pierced the silence, and woke the surfeit of onlookers from a depressing sleep. "Dante?" she called again with her voice ringing through the crowds. She now stood in the center of the lost, now homeless town. A small, pink rain jacket decorated her minuscule frame. She looked worse than the rest of them, with her skin practically hanging off of her bones. Her face was pale, but her eyes were fragile and shining with tears. It was strange, how a child that looked so broken had a jacket that looked so new. Even though I knew it was wrong, I, like many others, would have killed for a jacket like that in times like these. Her voice, once again shattered the silence with a heart-wrenching cry for a lost boy. "Dante?”
With her last attempt, she abruptly fell to her knees and buried her face in her doll like hands. The weight of depression had crushed her, and it spread itself among the crowds. Heads fell once again as silence encased the inner city. Although I knew it was dangerous, I continued to watch the young girl and wonder where her lost friend could be.
Perhaps he was lying under a white linen sheet in a world safer and less cruel. Or, perhaps he was lost among the crowds like this child wondering where she could be. I swallowed the worst thought my mind had wandered to; I convinced myself it wasn’t possible. They hadn’t asked for a child, and if they did his blood would be painting the city. I could still see the last one; the one cloaked in green. What had her name been? Rose? Perhaps Belle? Nonetheless, it didn’t matter what her name was, or the fact that she was someone's child, sister, or friend. It was dehumanizing, but really, in that time and that place with those people, what wasn’t?
The sound of shuffling feet arose me from my nostalgic state. The scratching went unnoticed by most, for the others were no doubt concentrating on happier times. My heart raced as I realized it was not the shuffling of displaced feet, but the march of the Seditions soldiers dragging someone on the ground. Bile rose in my throat along with the images of the girl cloaked in green flashing on the back of my eyelids. A voice I was most familiar with barked out commands, and the confused yet terrified citizens obeyed. The crowd parted, fearing their lives. All cleared the way, except for the girl dressed in pink. She had no movement in her, except for a weak breath every few seconds. The general scanned the crowd and I bowed my head into my hoodie, allowing it to cradle my face.
“Listen up scum bags,” he barked. “I’ve got a present for you. Another piece in our game,” a screeching laugh escaped his lips and was echoed by the ape like soldiers. I watched through the crowds as he slung a small child forward. As if the ground was frozen, he slid towards the girl. The child grunted when he slammed into her, and in that moment the general realized not everyone was where they should be. “Get up,” he hissed at the children. The boy whom he had slung began to stand, but the girl only weakly lifted her head. Her eyes searched around, dazed at first but then she focused on the boy. She widened her mouth and color began to return to her face.
“Dante!” she chirped. “Dante, you found me!” The general, not impressed or the least bit concerned marched his soldiers through the crowds. They formed a ring around the children and no protests were heard. I began to panic for I knew what would happen next. They were lifted by the men and cradled by the smog. I wanted to scream, I wanted to fight. But no one would stand along with me. These rituals, these games where the fear that they instilled upon us. The sun began to peek through the clouds and bathed the children. Images of the girl in green flashed in front of me. I started forward with no thoughts in my mind and no words in my mouth. I shoved through the bodies that stood as if they were dead. No one cared, it was clear no one tried.
“Adara!” Dante screamed as the blade was put through her. Dante thrashed around, trying to reach for anything he could. As the lifeless girl in pink was raised higher and higher, the boy from the shadows yelled more. The girl in the green, the girl in pink, the people of this town, were all wasting away. The sedition soldiers killed the boy with no hesitation, and his blood was spilled with Adara’s.
Someone from the circle became aware and let out a cry. Immediately, the general turned and held his blade out to the woman.
“Do you have a problem Ma’am? I’d hate to have to bury you with them,” cruel laughter followed. He slung the corpses on the ground, and as their blood pooled, I realized the rain had subsided. With a voice like thunder the general preached once again. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to say? Come on now sweetheart, smile for the camera,” he grabbed the woman by the chin and thrust her tear streaked face towards the sedition's holograph equipment. “All hail the sedition!” It echoed through the crowd in various levels of enthusiasm.
From the buildings, red flags were thrown out of the windows, and the general gave a smile. “It’s time,” he whispered once, then shouted it louder. “It’s time!” The army roared in recognition. Guns were raised, and children were ushered forward. People were lined up and turned to face the rest of the crowds. “Ready,” the general yelled, “Aim,” he continued.
“Hey brother, long time no see,” I yelled as the soldiers raised the guns. Theodore, the general, raised his gun and fired.