(This story was written back in my freshman year of high school, so the writing is pretty rough to say the least. Inexperienced may be the better word, but you be the judge since I feel like what is the harm in posting it anyways? This was my first real attempt at a short story other than just school assignments, but I put a lot of effort into this one at the time. Also, the formatting isn’t ideal, but if it doesn’t bother anyone I don’t feel the need to change it. Let me know if it makes it difficult to read, though, and I will gladly change it. Enjoy!)

I’ve always wondered what happened. I’ve always wanted to know what happened to our world. I’ve heard stories, stories of what it all used to be like. I heard life used to be simpler, happier, and order actually existed. People used to not have to worry or look over their shoulder all the time. I even heard our neighboring countries along with us, used to be united. People say we were one of the strongest countries in the world until The Great War. But of course, that’s just what people say. Things are different now, anyways as I’m sure you would know. Only certain people are lucky enough to live in homes, and they are usually pretty run down or damaged. There are those who still maintain quality housing, but they usually have highly important jobs, which gives them the funds for such expensive living. There’s more people living on the streets than I can count, and the number of them seems to be growing every day… along with their desperate actions just to get by day after day. Sadly along with that, the majority’s hostility has grown and a general hatred for those who do have money is clearly there.

I always hear about someone getting mugged or beaten if they venture too near to the Urchins’ Camp that envelops the southern party of the city. The aggression of the urchins, or the people living out the on the street incase you are unfamiliar with the term, has gotten so bad that the government has those annoying riot speakers set up for when things get too out of control. So, traveler, you’re probably wondering how our great nation of The Western Republic, got to be this way? I could not tell you myself for most of us don’t really know due to the government’s censorship. I can, however, tell you about it broadly in one simple word. Mistakes. Several mistakes brought our country to ruin and it is always getting worse to the point where most people have lost hope. We all have our mistakes, though. Some are greater than others. I can still remember the worst mistake I made in my life. The one thing that I would change if I could change my past. I can remember that day perfectly as much as it pains me. Let me start from the beginning.

It was just like any other day, a Wednesday in late March I do believe. I was 16 at the time and I had been fortunate enough to live in a home. It wasn’t anything special, but it was better than the alternative of living on the street. I also had the privilege of being able to go to school because my mother taught the younger years there. I was getting dressed for another school day, looking into the mirror seeing my brown eyes look back at me, inspecting my brown hair, my red sweater, and my faded jeans with the rip just under my right knee. “Your friend is here, hurry up so you’re not late to school again!” I heard my dad call from across the one-story home. Pleased with my appearance for the day, I headed out of my room to the front door. “Hey Rich.” I locked eyes with the blue ones in front of me in greeting to my friend as I neared the door, noticing his messy blonde hair and some-what tattered appearance. It was bizarre seeing him like that, for he was part of one of the wealthy families in the city and as such, left his house each day with his hair combed and his clothes quite presentable. Each day, however, he messed up his hair and wrinkled his shirt a bit shortly after leaving. He claimed he did not feel any more important than the rest of the world, so why should he dress that way. This is also despite that he was becoming a regular celebrity in the city due to his father’s job as a public speaker for the government. Each time his father would speak he would always have his family up on stage near him so everyone could see that he was a family man, and each time a varying number of people would come to listen. Because of the many times he had spoken, Rich and his family were becomingly quite commonly known, but that still didn’t change his outlook on life about being equal with everyone else. Rich was also younger than me, being only 15. On top of that I was clearly stronger than he was, so I feel I filled in as some sort of unofficial bodyguard to him at school, though I never really felt I was up to the job. “You boys come by the shop today after school because I won’t be back in time to unlock the house. You can do your homework or something along the lines of that.” My father told us, which I nodded to in silent agreement.

With that, Rich and I left the place I call home and began our routine walk to school. Neither of us seemed to have much to say as we walked along the winding street. We passed apartment after apartment, house after house, and more hand made homes than I could count with the occasional person inside looking out at us. The silence lasted a good while until Rich brought up conversation. “So did you hear about the lady who got killed the other day?” “No, where did it happen?” I asked not completely surprised to hear such a story. “It was just further up the way actually.” He responded to my shock. “In this part of town? That’s a bit of a stretch. I only really hear stories of people who go around the southern part of town.” “I know it’s strange, but she was out after curfew so you can only expect this sort of thing to happen.” “That’s true…” I responded in grim acceptance of the fact that that was just how things were, and there was nothing I could do about it.

We stopped for a minute as we came by the spot where the lady had been killed. There was a dark red stain on the street where the lady clearly died. We shared ideas of what she could have been doing out after curfew, but that’s all we could do was speculate. After awhile I looked up at the “Riot Speaker” that was nearby. “Those useless things never seem to help anyone.” I stated referring to the lady who died. “Hey look! One of the speakers is missing.” Rich pointed out, though, I had already noticed. “What’s surprising about that? People steal those all the time. I would be willing to bet it was the same group who killed this poor soul. Amazing what some people will do just to get money…” My voice trailed off as we began walking towards school again.

Shortly after, we arrived at the large walls of Bermark Academy. We showed our IDs to the two, armed guards at the gate and they let us through. I always felt it odd that the school needed guards outside, but my father always told me it was because of the likeliness of the school being the target of an uprising from the urchins. Though I didn’t agree with the idea of the school being a target, I never argued the matter because I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere. At school, Rich and I took the usual classes of Economy, Political Education, Math, Computer Tech, and our specialized field. Rich took Advanced Business while I took Engineering. I had originally requested History because of my curiosity of the past, but I had been sternly told that such a course was not taught. I knew it wasn’t wise to question the matter, so I did not make any remark. As for that particular day, nothing out of the ordinary really happened at school. Each class went by as usual and nothing much in the way of social happenings occurred, so I won’t bore you with the details.

When school got out, I gathered my books and waited out on the front steps for Rich to arrive. Once he showed up, we took off from school. “Took you long enough.” I stated as we passed through the gates. “Don’t even start. I typically have to wait for you to be ready every morning!” Rich laughed in reply to me. “True, true.” I laughed as well knowing he was completely right. “Right then. Off to the barbershop! Hey, that has a kind of ring to it, don’tcha think?” I smirked at Rich. “Whatever you say man. Whatever you say.” He replied plainly. And so we walked on towards my dad’s barbershop without saying much else for a while. I decided to break the silence. “So how do you think things got this way?” “You know we’re not supposed to talk about that…” Rich said nervously looking over his shoulder. “I know, I know, but there’s no one else around, so why shouldn’t we question it? It’s always been something I’ve wondered about, so what about you?” Rich took a moment to become comfortable to the question and gather his thoughts before speaking, “I heard that basically, war is the cause of everything. I heard it was a big war, huge even, and in the end, we or at least the former we lost.” “What do you mean former we?” I questioned, looking quite puzzled. “Well you see the thing is, I’ve heard stories.” “Stories?” “Ya, stories. Stories that the country used to be a lot bigger. We used to be one country along with the neighboring countries out there.” The idea intrigued me. It was something I had not heard of before. “Go on.” I urged him. “That’s all I’ve heard, sorry.” “Well who did you hear that from in the first place? Maybe they know more!” “I don’t know his name…” Rich’s voice trailed off. “You don’t even know the person’s name who told you these stories?” “Well you see… he’s a urchin.” “You’re kidding right?” “Truth is, I’m not. I saw an urchin walking down the street outside my house a few years ago. I don’t know what compelled me to talk to him, but I asked him what he was doing in the north part of town. He just told me that “they” were after him and he had to tell someone what he knew before he was gone.” “And who did he mean by they?” I asked becoming more and more interested with his story. “He never said, but we sat and talked for a while and he shared with me everything he claimed to know.”

Our conversation was cut short as we heard another set of feet walking behind us. We both turned to look and saw it was a man in ragged clothes that was now following us. Not knowing what to make of it, we kept walking down the street towards the shop. As we turned the corner, one of my worst fears became a reality. A gang of men each in similar outfits as the man behind us was standing in the road, blocking our way. “Urchins!” Rich urgently whispered at me. “I can see that! What are they doing out in this area? It’s broad daylight!” I whispered back at him looking around trying to find a way out of the situation. “It doesn’t seem like they care about the time of day.” Rich muttered sarcastically. “Hey, you’s guys! Stop right there’s!” The group in front of us walked towards us, while the man behind us took up the rear. “Hey boss, that one. The one on the left, there. Isn’t he that Gregor boy? He must be loaded!” I could hear one of the men speaking to what seemed to be the group’s leader. “But that one on the right…. well he…. well, I don’t know who he could be.” The boss, acknowledging the man’s statement spoke out to me with a prominent slur that suggested he had been drinking. “Hey you’s! What are you’s doing with the Gregor boy? You’s his servant or something’s?” I thought for a moment to choose my words carefully, but the man did not let me reply. “Well’s? You’s with the Gregor boy or not’s?” Without thinking I replied to the ragged man. “I – I’m not with him…” I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth, but when I tried to stop myself I couldn’t. I don’t know what happened to me, but I do know that I was completely overcome by fear of what the men could have done to us. I believe that fear drove my actions and there was nothing I could do to break out of it. I couldn’t even bare to look over at Rich, but I could only imagine the horrified look on his face at what I had said. I don’t know how, but I had just committed the ultimate form of betrayal. “Well’s then, get out of here’s while I be feeling’s generous!” Hearing his words, my legs began to run in the direction of the shop and there was nothing I could do to stop running. I didn’t even dare to look back at my friend because I know I wouldn’t be able to stand to see the hurt expression on his face.

I ran and I ran until I finally reached my dad’s shop. I stopped at the door to catch my breath and looked behind myself to make sure I hadn’t been followed. “He’ll be alright, right? They’ll just take his money and let him go. Right? Ya, that’s all that will happen. His parents can easily replace the money he loses. It’ll be no big deal. If I had stayed, they would have just taken my money too, so I didn’t really do anything wrong. Right? Ya…” I tried to make myself believe what I had done was right until the point that I actually considered it as the truth. I went into the small shop to see my dad working and a few people in line. I slowly walked over to him with a bit of shame clearly on my face. I tried to tell him what happened. “Dad? I need to talk to you.” “Can’t you see I’m busy? Tell me later.” He told me without even so much as looking at me. “But dad, it’s important!” “I said tell me later!” When my father raised his voice, his word was final and there was no debate about it. Despite the circumstances, I accepted this long-standing law as a reality and gave up on trying to tell him. I slowly made my way over to a chair and slouched down into it, thinking about what had just happened.

I stayed in that chair for what seemed like two or three hours, and when I noticed it beginning to turn dark outside I became worried. “Rich should have made it to shop by now, shouldn’t he?” I thought to myself. After much deliberation in my head, I felt I needed to go search for him. So I rose to my feet and made my way out the door, noticing how my father clearly didn’t care I was leaving. I made my way down the street, back to the place where the gang had confronted us, becoming increasingly worried as time went by. As I came to that fateful spot, I saw a figure lying in the road. When I drew closer, I saw that it was indeed Rich lying in the road. At the sight of him, I began sprinting until I was at his side. I looked down at the closest friend I had ever had and tears began running down my cheeks. A small pool of blood was forming around his body and on his right side there was a spot where he had clearly been stabbed. I kneeled down beside him, looking him over, tears falling increasingly from my eyes. Rich’s hand was twitching and his eyes were flickering, which told me that he still had some life left in him. I grasped his hand in some form of attempt to bring him back. Back to the way he was, instead of lying on the floor hardly moving. “Rich!… I – I’m sorry!” But my words fell on deaf ears. It was too late. Tears came down my face uncontrollably as I saw my friend die, right before my eyes.