It’s the year 2119 and society has shifted into crudely organized ranks. Of course, this is the only way we can make sure to keep everything orderly, some say. Yet still others exclaim their disapproval with stern voices and frowned expressions, claiming that we as people have progressed too far to be forced into tight roles such as these. But I, Ruby De La Rosa, don't really have anything to say about the matter. As long as my bar is still in business and my town is bustling with people, I'm content. 

Mi mamá however, is the exact opposite. She despises my business and refuses to say anything concerning the small bar named Ruby’s Rincon. She doesn’t think a lady like me should be running such a place. But there's nothing that old hag can do to stop me. There isn't any other choice for me but to ignore her anyways. Us immigrants or “Amerínos”, as the higher classes like to call us, cannot be afforded the privilege of moving to different communities other than the one we were assigned. But that’s just how it is, I guess. 

I enjoy mornings. I get to leave my apartment full of disappointed adults and drag my bike out of its rack to pedal to work. The mornings here in Las Comunidades are often peaceful and bright as warm rays of sunlight pool onto the narrow streets, avoiding the shadows like the sun flees from the moon. I smile, enjoying the cool breeze against my tanned face and letting it play with my dark waves of hair. But the smile only lasts for a moment, disappearing as I pedal past a sign stuck into the sidewalk grass. It reads: –Jackson Vandermyke: Society’s Evolver! Making things better for ME and YOU!– Bah, by now, everyone in town had heard of his plans to level the low-class communities and make way for more space to turn into entertainment centers, malls, shopping centers, and parking garages so the higher classes could enjoy their luxuries. Jackson Vandermyke; what a joke. 

As I approach my bar I notice more signs and posters advertising the visit of Jackson Vandermyke for the 25th of October. Hmm… the 25th. Isn’t that today? My question is almost immediately answered by the morning announcements being played over loudspeakers down the street and in people’s houses, detailing the visit of the famous entrepreneur. Hay dios mio. I think, hurrying to unlock the door. I am going to lose an entire hour of my work time to this bozo when all my customers and employees leave to go to his event. I sigh as I enter the small bar and head to the back to throw my apron on. I might as well go to this guy’s speech thing. After all, there isn’t going to be anything better to do with no customers and no help. 

The morning goes by quickly as my employees bustle about, cleaning the bar and serving café to the occasional customer or two. Before I know it, it’s time for that Jackson man to make his appearance in the main plaza. I sigh and hang up my apron to walk down the street with my employees. When we get there the plaza is crowded with spectators assembled around a small stage in the middle, all chattering amongst each other. Some, tense and excited, others pessimistic and disgruntled. 

Suddenly, a voice snaps our attention towards the center. “Welcome, welcome all! How are we all doing today, ladies, gents, and everything in between?” He lets out a quick chuckle as if including all genders is a joke. I frown. The beginning of his speech is all the usual; he compliments our town with standard compliments, even letting hints of slight disdain slip into the inflections of his voice at times. I fade back into attention and catch him mentioning surprising news he’s got for us. 

“Now then, would you all like the good news? Or, would you rather hear the bad news first?” He flashes a charming smile down at the people around him and waves his hand, wanting to hear their responses. The crowd roars with different shouts and yells of “Buenas noticias!”, “Bad news!”, and “Malas noticias!!!” Jackson grins and plays around with the crowd for a bit before holding his hand up for silence. “Alright, alright. I’m going to go with bad news first to let the good news cheer you all up. 

The crowd goes silent as he pulls a paper out of his pocket and holds it in front of himself. The tension is high and everyone waits with bated breaths, some terrified while others seem to be buzzing with excitement. Jackson clears his throat and begins to read the announcement. “The local government has declared that Las Comunidades is to be demolished to make way for our prosperous expanding society. The residents of the area are to find homes for themselves, as there are not enough funds to spare for compensational housing.” He looks up from the paper and smiles nonchalantly at the distressed faces that look at him with pleading horrified eyes. Jackson sets the paper down on the podium in front of him to pull his white tux sleeve back and glance at his glistening wristwatch. “The good news is: you have thirty minutes to prepare your things and be gone before enforcers arrive.” 

There is absolute stunned silence as he tips his hat politely and exits to his car, being escorted by two hulking bodyguards and ignoring the terrified eyes all trained on him. All of a sudden, a woman screams and the crowd surges into a panicked mess of people who are all yelling and rushing to their homes. I am one of them. I fight my way through the crowd and burst out into the street, already sprinting back to my bar so I can bike back home as fast as I can. 

When I get there nearly fifteen minutes later, there are already bags of clothing and valuables being tossed down stairs as people rush to evacuate. “¡¡MAMÁ!! WE HAVE TO GET OUT!” I scream as I lunge up the narrow stairway and shoulder my way into our apartment. “¡MAMI, TENEMOS QUE IRNOS! Now!” She looks at me with a startled and confused expression painted on her face. “What's happening?! ¿Qué pasó?” She asks in a scared voice. “Mami we have to go, they're coming! Get your jewelry and clothes, quickly!” I tug her towards her room frantically and point to the dresser, tossing a suitcase at her. 

By the time we have finished packing and I have convinced my mother to leave her heavy sewing machine behind, it's been more than ten minutes. We rush down the flights of stairs with trembling legs and rush into the street where we are greeted by a cheerful voice being projected over the loudspeakers. “Dear citizens of Las Comunidades, unfortunately, we regret to inform you that your time is up. Please proceed out of the city in a calm and orderly fashion. Good luck!” The speakers go silent as panicked families run through the streets with mothers carrying their children slung over their shoulders, baby supplies and older siblings in tow. Grandparents and old uncles hobble towards the mountains for safety, going the same way as everyone else. 

A shot is fired, and a pained scream rips through the air. Then another, and another. All around me there are terrified wails of civilians running for their lives as troops march through the town with their guns armed and at the ready. It’s begun. A shot rings through the air and a young man tumbles from his balcony, his body hitting the ground directly in front of us with a sickening crunch. My mother’s eyes widen in horror as she opens her mouth and lets out a bloodcurdling scream. I squeeze my eyes shut and grab her wrist to begin running, dragging her behind me. “MAMÁ, WE HAVE TO GO. GO GO GO!!!!” I scream at everyone around me and scoop up a crying child who is wailing beside his lifeless mother laying on the sidewalk, blood pooling out from her body. 

I hoist the kid into my arm and run towards the mountains just beyond the cluster of buildings in front of me. Explosions from nearby community housing buildings boom deafeningly all around us, shaking the ground and sending rubble raining down onto the streets. Fires leap out of shattered windows hungrily, devouring any fuel they can find and licking into spindly trees as the flames advance ravenously. I can barely hear anything as I power towards the hills of safety which are practically reaching out to me, offering kindness. And then I hear it. A single gunshot stands out from all the rest as my mother lurches abruptly and falls to the ground. 

“¡¡¡MAMÁ!!! MAMI NO!” My voice cracks as I scream and kneel beside her heaving body. “MAMI, WE HAVE TO GO. GET UP, GET UP!” Fat tears drip from my eyes, splatting onto her stunned face. She gasps for air and grabs a weak handful of my shirt to pull me closer. “Mija, go. Vive, Ruby. Don’t let me hold you back from your dreams. I'm sorry I was such a bad mother…” I let out a sob and kiss her blood stained cheeks. “Mami, mami no. No I love you please just- let’s go we’re almost there. I can-” I’m interrupted by her raspy voice. “Ruby.” 

I look at her with a desperate look, my eyes welled up with tears. I can hear the troops getting nearer and nearer, advancing up the street towards us. A bullet whizzes past my head and I scramble to my feet, carrying the little crying boy in my arms. “I’ll come back for you, mami.” I haven't called her that since I was little. Grown adults don't refer to their mother as mommy. But right now, I don't care. Nothing matters right now except getting out. My emotional goodbye is cut short by a loud bang and a white hot searing pain in my arm. I yell in pain and nearly drop the child as I begin to run.

I finally make it out of the town and climb my way up the hills overlooking the town. Gleaming skyscrapers can barely be seen past the billowing clouds of black smoke rising from the small compact town. I glare at the law enforcement vehicles and the troops with hatred burning in my heart as I clutch my arm and hold the boy’s hand. I know I will never forget this. I will never let them hurt my people like this again. 

I look down at the boy by my side and squeeze his hand a bit tighter. Now it’s just us. “It’s you and me against the world, little buddy. Just you and me.”